Springfield 1866
springfield_1866._(see_also,_rifles) A breech-loading rifle bearing an extractor and .50-70 caliber centerfire cartridge, the Springfield 1866 was oft praised for its rapid rate of fire. The design originated when the army modernized many thousands of Civil War-era muskets for the use of American soldiers, a highly pragmatic step in the evolution of the weapon.
The Springfield's speed and efficacy was particularly notable in several battles between U.S. soldiers and the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne, and Northern Arapaho tribes during Red Cloud's War, when a small number of U.S troops armed with Springfield 1866 rifles were able to defeat a large attacking force with few casualties. However, it was sometimes criticized for its weaker extractor mechanism.
Letter found in the possession of -REDACTED-
Undated
1/6
Got some answers for you today. Writing it down for you now before I forget any of the details, though I won't get to post it until next week.
Was camped last night with Thomas and playing it low. Some people just like to hear their own lips flapping. Don't need any encouragement but silence. So we're sitting around the fire and he starts up. Told the whole story about the brothers.
"We weren't always allowed to hunt in threes you know. That was all thanks to those brothers."Our own third was asleep already.
"Which brothers?" asked him, knowing damn well which brothers
"You never heard the story?"He paused to spit into the fire. Settled himself into his seat to tell the tale. Didn't even let me answer before he started talking again.
"It was always two before. Two hunters per contract. I don't know why. It was just what you did. You could hunt alone too, sure, if you had a death wish. Still can. But two was the usual number. Only one person to trust, and if you could trust them, you had an extra set of eyes on your back. Got to be a lot of superstitions about why it was that way. There was all that talk about the oath of two, and mirrors, and some sort of curse, and then that story about the twins. Well. I don't know what was true and what was tale, but it just wasn't done. Then these three show up and just ignore the rule. Just started hunting together."
He stopped speaking to stare into the fire, remembering and silent and eyes far away.
"They did alright at first. Pulled off more than a few successful contracts. Made more than a few enemies. People thought it was unfair, but most were too superstitious about the number three to do the same. Thought something might happen to them if they did. Rightly so, as it turned out. Whatever those brothers unleashed, they took the brunt of it, and we've been able to hunt in threes since. They were ripe for the asylum by the end of it, too. Before the end one of them bought a horse and painted the damn thing green. Said it was for good luck."
He paused, shaking his head at the memory.
Letter found in the possession of -REDACTED-
Undated
2/6
Up to that point in the story I hadn't said a thing. Everybody had heard about the green horse. Subtle as a dead pig. Horse even seemed immune, and I've told you what all the other horses around here look like; half dead and moaning and screaming, drawing those nightmare creatures right to you soon as they get going. Maybe it was magic, what do I know. Ha! Oh you know I don't mean it. know there's a sight of strangeness in this world, but there isn't any magic. If there was we wouldn't be in the mess
Thomas was clearly enjoying himself in the telling. That damn bear face perched on his head like a hat. I could have punched him. Instead I asked him to tell me more about the others, get him talking again. He says,
"Those three couldn't have been more different. The one with the horse was a crack shot, favored an old army- issue Springfield trapdoor. Could shoot the vest off a minister. The tall one, he was a good hunter. Told a good tale and stayed away from the bottle. Wouldn't trust him with my mother's life, but as far as hunters go he was what passes for good stock among us."
He paused to take a long sip from the bottle he'd been cradling in his lap. Guess he didn't think that much of sobriety after all. Didn't offer me a damn drop. I was getting impatient, but he got back to it soon enough.
"Third brother was a gambler. Lost ten dollars to him at cards once while the others just looked on and laughed. He didn't need it, but he took it from me all the same. But that was before things got really bad. Weren't nobody laughing by the end of it, nope. Not even about the green horse."
