ARMY APACHE SCOUT (The Apache Kid Chronicles-Volume 1)
Fiction / Indigenous / Historical Fiction / Native American
Date Published: 06-03-2015
Publisher: Hat Creek
From Army Scout to Outlaw, from Hero to Legend.
He survived the embers of the fires and murders at the Camp Grant Massacre
of the Apache. Young Has-kay-bay-nay-ntayl (“brave and tall and will
come to a mysterious end”), a child known by many names but later
feared and revered as the Apache Kid-grows up in two cultures where survival
means choosing between loyalty and betrayal, his people and their overseers.
Trained by the legendary Al Sieber and other former military officers, the
Kid makes a meteoric rise to prominence as a First Sergeant of scouts, a
warrior whose skill and leadership helps win the U.S. Army’s fight against
renegades and maintain peace between Apache bands at San Carlos
Reservation.
But neither war nor peace are ever simple. When forced to make an
impossible choice between his own People or the Army, he chooses his People.
His choice leads the Army to imprison him at Alcatraz. Released early by the
Army, Arizona Territory tries to imprison him again but he, with seven other
Apache on the way to Yuma Penitentiary, escape and become the object of the
greatest manhunt in Arizona history. The only one to survive the manhunt,
Kid becomes both a ghost and a legend, the most feared border outlaw for the
next ten years before vanishing into Mexico.
Seen through Kid’s eyes, The Apache Kid: Army Apache Scout brings to life
the thrilling and tragic journey of Apache Kid as a young man and the best
of the Army’s Apache scouts.
Excerpt
Redmond nodded down the arroyo. “I’ve already put some bottles
out for targets. They’re about fifty paces apart. You can just barely
see the glint off the one at three hundred yards. Which one would you like
Kid to use for a target, Al?”
Sieber leaned against the corral fence post and stared down the arroyo at
the little berms. He scratched the whiskers on his cheeks and made a face as
though deep in thought. “I can barely see that last bottle in this
light. Why don’t you just shoot the most distant one you think you can
hit. That ’73 Winchester you’re carrying would have to shoot
like the bullet was following a rainbow to hit anything at three hundred
yards. I don’t think that would be a fair test of your shootin’
ability. Go ahead and take a shot.”
I wasn’t sure what Sieber was talking about when he mentioned bullets
and rainbows, but I was sure I could hit the most distant bottle. I flipped
up the ladder sight and set the notch piece for three hundred yards. Sieber
watched me with one raised eyebrow that said I was going to make a fool of
myself. Redmond had a little smile. He’d heard enough stories about my
shooting from others that he believed he knew what I could do.
I levered a round into my rifle’s chamber, sighted at the distant
glint and, at half breath, squeezed off a shot. There was a short delay, and
then the bottle at three hundred yards exploded into many shattered pieces.
Sieber’s jaw dropped. He looked at me and then back where the bottle
was and shook his head. “Kid, that was one great shot. Can you do that
for the bottles at one and two hundred yards?”
I nodded, set the ladder notch to two hundred yards, levered a new round
and, taking aim, shattered that bottle. I flipped the ladder sight down
since the rifle was accurate without it at one hundred yards, levered
another round into the firing chamber, and quickly blew that bottle into
many sparkling pieces of glass.
Sieber looked at me and grinned. “You don’t miss, do you?
What’s your longest shot?”
I grinned back at him. “I no miss. Use Father’s buffalo gun.
Shoot deer on edge of clearing in Galiuro Mountains canyon. Father say best
shot he ever see with his buffalo gun.”
Sieber laughed. “I expect that it was. You must have exceptional
eyesight. Did you use a telescopic sight on the rifle?”
“Hmmph, I see far. Nothing on rifle. What is telescopic
sight?”
Sieber smiled and shook his head. Redmond said, “It’s a big eye
like those used in soldier glasses and another little eye attached to the
ends of a long brass tube. That combination makes things easier to see and
hit at a long range. Your People call this big eye in a tube a
‘Shináá Cho.’”
About the Author
W. MICHAEL FARMER blends over fifteen years of research into 19th-century
Apache history and Southwest living to create richly authentic stories. A
retired PhD physicist, his scientific work included laser-based measurements
of atmospheric aerosols, and he authored a two-volume reference on
atmospheric effects.
His fiction and essays have earned numerous honors, including three Will
Rogers Gold and six Silver Medallions, multiple New Mexico-Arizona Book
Awards, and a Spur Finalist Award. His novels include The Life and Times of
Yellow Boy, Legends of the Desert, and the award-winning Geronimo duology.
His latest novels include Trini! Come! and the Chato Duology, featuring
Desperate Warrior and Proud Outcast.
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