MATT JENSEN, THE LAST
MOUNTAIN MAN
SAVAGE TERRITORY
MATT JENSEN, THE LAST MOUNTAIN MAN SAVAGE TERRITORYWilliam W. Johnstone
with J. A. Johnstone
PINNACLE BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter One
Fort Bowie, Arizona Territory
It was hot and dry at Fort Bowie, where elements of the Eighth Cavalry were conducting their daily exercises. New recruits, under the watchful eye of sergeants, were at drill, both mounted and dismounted. Older hands were conducting work details, from mucking out stables to rubbing down horses, to making needed repairs on the various buildings of the post.
One hapless soldier, wearing a sign that said I WAS INSUBORDINATE, was walking around the perimeter of the post in uniform, carrying a fully loaded pack and rifle. He would be performing this punishment detail from sunup to sundown, the entire day, taking only a short, five-minute break every two hours.
The U.S. Cavalry, operating under a set of tactics known as Upton’s Tactics, was organized as ten regiments of three battalions each, with four companies to a battalion. Each company had one captain, one first lieutenant, one second lieutenant, and seventy-seven enlisted men.
The mounted trooper carried a light cavalry saber suspended from the waist belt. A pistol was carried on the right side, handle facing forward, in a large, flapped holster. He also carried a single-shot, breech-loading .45-caliber carbine, which hung from a carbine sling that was tucked into a leather socket affixed to the McClellan saddle just behind the trooper’s thigh.
Newly minted officers and new recruits alike were made to learn, and recite, the paragraph in the manual that dealt with horses.
Commanding officers must bear in mind that the efficiency of cavalry depends almost entirely upon the condition of the horse, which alone makes them able to get over long distances in short spaces of time. The horses must, therefore, be nursed with great care, in order that they may endure the utmost fatigue when emergencies demand it.
Elements of the Eighth Cavalry, under the overall command of General Crook, were stationed at Fort Bowie, and were engaged, and had been engaged for some time now, in pursuit of a militant band of Apache Indians led by Geronimo.
The bugle call for Officers’ Call was sounded, and the officers of A Company, First Battalion of the Eighth, assembled in the headquarters building in response.
Matt Jensen was one of those who responded to the bugle call. Although Matt was not an army officer, nor even in the army, he was currently employed as a scout for the army, and as such held the equivalent rank of a first lieutenant. He stood now at the window of the headquarters building, looking out over the quadrangle as he waited for the meeting to begin. Being a cavalry scout in pursuit of Apache Indians was not his permanent occupation. It was just an occupation that had temporarily caught his interest.
Matt was a wanderer, always looking for what was beyond the next line of hills or just over the horizon. When he was on the trail, he traveled light, with a bowie knife, a .44 double-action Colt, a Winchester .44-40 rifle, a rain slicker, an overcoat, two blankets, and a spare shirt, socks, trousers, and underwear.
Escaping from an orphanage when he was twelve, he was found more dead than alive by a man named Smoke Jensen. He learned everything he knew from Smoke, who took him in and raised him until Matt was old enough to go out on his own. It was then that Matt dropped the name Cavanaugh, which was the last name of his biological father, and took the name Jensen.
“Gentlemen, Colonel McKenzie,” someone announced, and all the officers stood respectfully as the post commander came into the headquarters.
“As you were, gentlemen,” McKenzie said. “Captain Trevathan has gone over his plans with me and I have given my approval. I leave you now to discuss your scout. Captain, the floor is yours.”
“Thank you, sir,” Trevathan said as Colonel McKenzie left. “Gentlemen, I call your attention to the Dragoon Mountains,” Trevathan said, pointing out the mountain range on a map that was pinned to the wall. “If every man in this company will follow my plan to the exact detail, I am confident that we will rid this country of the savage Geronimo once and forever. Our Indian scouts tell us he has made his camp here.”
Trevathan pointed to a spot on the map.
“Lieutenant Bristol, you will take your platoon out on scout to locate him. I will establish the rest of the company here. As soon as you locate him, send a heliograph signal informing us of the same. Once we receive your signal, we will launch the attack, smashing Geronimo once and for all.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Bristol said. “You are going to detach an entire platoon for a scout?”
“I am indeed.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I just took a scout and a couple of signalmen with me?”
“I want the scout to be in strength, Lieutenant,” Trevathan explained. “That way, if Geronimo attempts to escape, you can be in position to block him.”
“Yes, sir,” Bristol replied, though the tone of his voice indicated that he was not happy with his orders.
Trevathan sensed Bristol’s unease. “I am going to be counting on you, Lieutenant. In order for this plan to work, I must be able to depend on you following my orders to the exact detail. You do understand the importance of that, do you not?”
“Yes, sir, I understand,” Bristol said.
“Good. I’m glad that we understand each other. Now, gentlemen, I know that Geronimo has eluded the army for so many years that many of our troopers, I fear, have bought into the idea that he possesses mythical powers. But after this operation, that myth will be dispelled once and for all. If you follow my plan of operation to the exact detail, we will cut Geronimo to pieces, and the Eastern press will no longer make a hero of him.”