AN INCIDENT THAT SAVORS OF ROMANCE.
By the time the sun had fallen to the level of the summits of the Blue
Ridge, Butler and Robinson had progressed so far in their journey, as to
find themselves in the vicinity of the Rockfish river--a rapid mountain
stream, that traverses the southern confine of Albemarle, and which, at
that period, separated this county from Amherst. Their path had led
them, by a short circuit, out of the ravine of Cove creek, along upon
the ridges of the neighboring hills; and they were now descending from
this elevation, into the valley of the Rockfish, near to the point where
the Cove creek forms its junction with this river. The hill was covered
with a stately forest, and a broad, winding road had been cut down the
steep side, in such a manner as to present a high bank on one hand, and
an abrupt sheer descent on the other. From this road might be seen, at
intervals, glimmering through the screen of underwood, the waters of the
small river below; whilst, at the same time, the circuitous course of
the descending track left but few paces of its length visible from any
one point, except where, now and then, it came boldly forth to the verge
of some wild crag, from which glimpses were to be obtained of its
frequent traverses towards the deep and romantic dell that received the
mingled tribute of the two streams.
Here, as our travellers journeyed downward, their attention was awakened
by the cry of hounds in pursuit of game. These sounds came from the wood
on the crest of the hill above them; and the clamorous earnestness with
which they assailed the ear, and roused the far echo of the highlands,
showed the object of chase to have been suddenly surprised and hotly
followed. The outcry was heard, for some moments, pursuing a direction
towards the river, when, suddenly from the midst of the forest, the
sharp twang of a rifle-shot showed that some hunter was on the watch to
profit by the discovery of the dogs.
Robinson, as soon as he heard the report, urged his horse forward with
speed, to the first turn of the road below; dismounted, and, throwing
his rifle into the palm of his left hand, stood ready to give his fire
wherever he might find occasion. Butler followed, and reined up close
beside his companion.
"There is game afoot," said Galbraith, "and if that shot has not done
its business, it may be my turn to try a hand."
These words were hardly spoken, when a wounded buck rushed to the brink
of the bank, some twelve or fifteen feet above the heads of the
travellers, and regardless of the presence of enemies, made one frantic
bound forward into the air, and fell dead almost at Robinson's feet. So
effectually had the work of death been done upon the poor animal, that
he seemed to have expired, in the convulsion of this last leap, before
he reached the ground; his antlers were driven into the clay; his eyes
were fixed, and not a struggle followed.
"It was a home-shot that brought this poor fugitive to the earth," said
Butler, as he stood gazing at the piteous spectacle before him, "and
sped by a practised hand."
"I don't count him a good man, major," said Galbraith, with professional
indifference, "who would mangle his meat by random firing. Now, this
buck was taken sideways, as he leaped above the tops of the bushes,
which is the ticklishest of all the ways of shooting a deer. The man
that plucked this fellow, I'll warrant, can plant his ball just where he
likes: right under the arm is the place for certainty; and the thing
couldn't have been prettier done if the man had had a rest and a
standing shot."
During this short interval, the hounds had arrived on the spot where the
buck lay bleeding, and these, after a few minutes, were followed by two
hunters of very dissimilar appearance, who came on foot, slowly leading
their horses up the hill.
The first was a tall, gaunt woodman, of a sallow complexion, jet black
eyes, and round head of smooth black hair. His dress was simply a coarse
linen shirt and trowsers, the heat of the day being such as to allow him
to dispense with coat and waistcoat. He carried, in one hand, a battered
straw hat, and in the other, trailed a long rifle. His feet were
covered with a pair of moccasins of brown leather, and the ordinary
hunting equipments were suspended about his person.
The second was a youth apparently about sixteen, dressed in a suit of
green summer-cloth, neatly and fancifully adapted to his figure, which
was graceful and boyish. The jacket was short, and gathered into a small
skirt behind; and both this and the pantaloons were garnished with a
profusion of black cord and small black buttons. A highly polished
leather belt was buckled around his waist; a cap of green cloth rested,
somewhat conceitedly, amongst the rich locks of a head of light, curly
hair that fell, with girlish beauty, over a fair brow, and gave softness
to a countenance of pure white and red; and a neat foot showed to
advantage in a laced boot. The whole appearance of the youth was of one
of an amiable and docile bearing, and the small rifle or carbine which
he bore in his hand, as well as the dainty accoutrements that belonged
to it, amongst which was a diminutive bugle, looked more like the toys
of a pampered boy, than any apparatus of service.
No sooner had these two approached near enough to Butler and his
attendant for recognition, than the youth, quitting the hold of his
horse, sprang forward with a joyous alacrity and seized Butler by the
hand.
"Captain Butler," he cried with great animation, "how glad I am you have
come! And how fortunate it is that I should meet you! Get down from your
horse, I have something to tell you. Here, Stephen Foster, take this
gentleman's horse."
"You are a fine fellow, Harry," said Butler, dismounting. "That smiling
face of yours is full of pleasant news; it assures me that all are well
at the Dove Cote." Then having given his horse in charge to Robinson,
and walked a few paces apart with his young friend, he enquired, in a
low and anxious tone, "Mildred, my dear Henry, what of your sister
Mildred? Has she received my letter? Does she expect me? Is your
father--"
"Now, captain," interrupted the other--"but heigh! don't the newspapers
say you are brevetted? I am a pretty fellow to forget that! Well then,
Major Butler, let me answer one question at a time. In the first place,
sister Mildred is as well as any girl can be, that has a whole bushel of
crosses to keep her out of spirits. Poor thing, she frets so, about you
and my father. In the second place, she received your letter a week ago,
and has had me patrolling this ridge every day since, just to keep a
look-out for you; and, for the sake of company, I have had Stephen
Foster hunting here all the time--more for an excuse than anything else,
because on this side of the river the drives are not the best for
deer--a man might be here a fortnight and not get a shot. Sister Mildred
wanted me, if I should see you first, just to whisper to you that it is
impossible to do anything with my father, especially at this time, for
he has one of these English officers staying at the Dove Cote now, who,
I am afraid, and so is sister Mildred, has come to do some mischief.
Mildred says I must make some appointment with you to see her privately.
I thought of Mrs. Dimock's, but this Englishman has a servant staying
over there, and may be it wouldn't do. So, major, you will have to ride
down to the big chestnut, on the bank of the river, just under the rock
that we call the Fawn's Tower--you know where that is? it isn't more
than two miles from here."
"I know it well, Henry, I will wait there patiently," replied Butler, as
he now returned to his horse.
"Haven't we been in luck," said Henry, "to get so fine a buck at last?
This fellow has eight branches. It is Stephen's rifle that has done it."
The woodman, during this conversation, had taken possession of his
spoil, and was now busily engaged with his knife in cutting open and
preparing the animal for transportation, according to the usages of
woodcraft, whilst Robinson stood by, admiring the dexterity with which
this office was performed. When the buck was, at last, thrown by Stephen
across his horse, Henry gave him orders to ride forward.
"You will carry our game to your own house, Stephen; and don't forget,
to-morrow, to let us have the saddle at the Dove Cote. And Stephen, you
need not say that we have found any acquaintances upon the road, you
understand!"
The man bowed his head, in token of obedience, and getting upon his
long-backed steed, behind the buck, was soon lost to view in the
windings of the hill.
"Sister Mildred is sometimes downright melancholy," said the young
hunter, after he had remounted, and now rode beside Butler. "She is
troubled about you, and is always telling me of some unpleasant dream. I
almost think she is over-fanciful; and then she reads everything about
the army, and talks almost like a man about soldiering. Do you know she
is making a soldier of me? I am constantly reading military books, and
practising drill, and laying out fortifications, just as if I was going
into camp. My father doesn't know a word of it; his time is taken up
with these English officers, writing to them, and every now and then
there are some of them at our house. Mildred knows them--a famous spy
she would make! Isn't she an excellent girl, Major Butler?"
"You and I should guard her, Henry, with more care than we guard our
lives," replied Butler, with a serious emphasis.
"I hope," returned Henry, "she will be in better spirits after she sees
you."
"I would to heaven," said Butler, "that we all had more reason to be of
good cheer, than we are likely to have. It is as cloudy a day, Henry, as
you may ever behold again, should you live, as I pray you may, to the
ripest old age."
Henry looked up towards the west.
"There are clouds upon the sky," he said, "and the sun has dropped below
them; but there is a streak of yellow light, near to the line of the
mountain, that our wise people say is a sign that the sun will rise in
beauty to-morrow."
"There is a light beyond the mountain," replied Butler, half speaking to
himself, "and it is the best, the only sign I see of a clear to-morrow.
I wish, Henry, it were a brighter beam."
"Don't you know Gates has passed South?" said Henry, "and has some
pretty fellows with him, they say. And ar'n't we all mustering
here--every man most? Ask Stephen Foster what I am?"
"And what will he tell me?"
"Why, that I am his deputy-corporal in the mounted riflemen; Stephen is
the lieutenant."
"Oh, I crave your favor, brother officer, good master deputy-corporal,
Henry Lindsay! and does your father allow you to ride in the ranks of
the friends of liberty?"
"Sister Mildred persuaded him that as I am a mere lad, as she
says,--look at me, major,--a pretty well grown lad, I take it, there is
no harm in my playing soldier. So I ride always with Stephen Foster, and
Mildred got me this light rifle-carbine. Now, major, I fancy I am pretty
nearly as good a marksman as rides in the corps. Who is this with you?"
asked Henry, looking back at Robinson, who loitered some distance in the
rear purposely to avoid what might be deemed an intrusion upon the
private conference of the two friends.
"That is a famous soldier, Henry; he was at the siege of Charleston, and
last year at Savannah. He has had some hard blows, and can tell you more
of war than you have ever read in all your studies."
"He wears a curious uniform," said Henry, "for a regular soldier. What
is his name?"
"Galbraith Robinson--or Horse Shoe Robinson--to give him his most
popular distinction. But it would be well to keep his name secret."
"I have heard of Horse Shoe," said Henry, with an expression of great
interest. "So, this is the man himself? From all reports he is as brave
as"--
"As who?" asked Butler, smiling at the tone of wonder with which Henry
spoke.
"As Caius Marcius Coriolanus, who, I make no doubt, major, was about the
bravest man in the books."
Butler laughed, and applauded the young martialist for his
discrimination.
The road from the foot of the hill pursued the left, or northern, bank
of the Rockfish, which shot along, with a rapid flood, over the rocks
that lay scattered in its bed; and the gush of whose flight fell upon
the ear like the loud tones of the wind. From either margin it was
shaded by huge sycamores, whose tops, at this twilight hour, were marked
in broad lines upon the fading sky, and whose wide spreading boughs met,
from side to side, over the middle of the stream, throwing a deeper
night upon the clear and transparent waters. The valley was closely
bound by high precipitous hills, whose steep crags and narrow passes
seemed to echo and prolong the gush of the stream, that was now mingled
with the occasional lowing of cattle, the shriek of the owl, and the
frequent hoarse scream of the whip-poor-will.
When our party had advanced about a mile along this road, Henry Lindsay
took his bugle and blew a blast which seemed to dance in its
reverberations from one side of the river to the other.
"Mildred knows my signal," said he; "that is the scout's warning:
cavalry approaches: dress your line: prepare to receive a general
officer."
"Henry, pray drop your military phrase, and tell me what this means?"
said Butler.
"Ride on till you arrive beneath the Fawn's Tower. Wait for me there. I
will give you a signal when I approach: and trust me for a faithful
messenger. The river is deep at the rock, but you will find a boat
fastened to this bank. When you hear my signal come across. Mr. Dimock's
is only another mile; and, I'll warrant, the old lady will make you
comfortable. Love, they say, major," added Henry, sportively, "is meat
and drink, and a blanket to boot; but for all that, Mrs. Dimock's will
not be amiss--especially for Horse Shoe, who, I take it, will have the
roughest time of the party. If love is a blanket, Mr. Robinson," Henry
continued, addressing himself to that worthy, "it doesn't cover two, you
know."
"To my thinking, young sir," replied Horse Shoe, with a laugh, "it
wouldn't fold so cleverly in a knapsack."
"Now that I have given my orders," said Henry, "and done my duty, I must
leave you, for my road lies across the ford here. Where are my hounds?
Hylas, Bell, Blanche, you puppies, where are you?"
Here Henry blew another note, which was immediately responded to by the
hounds; and, plunging into the rapid and narrow stream, followed by the
dogs, who swam close behind him, he was seen, the next moment, through
the twilight, galloping up the opposite hill, as he called out his "good
night" to his friends.
As soon as Henry had disappeared, the other two pricked their steeds
forward at a faster pace. The rapid flow of the river, as they advanced
along its bank, began to change into a more quiet current, as if some
obstruction below had dammed up the water, rendering it deep and still.
Upon this tranquil mirror the pale crescent of the moon and the faintly
peeping stars were reflected; and the flight of the fire-fly was traced,
by his own light and its redoubled image, upon the same surface.
The high toppling cliff of the Fawn's Tower, that jutted forth like a
parapet above the road, soon arrested the attention of Butler; and at
its base the great chestnut flung abroad his "vast magnificence of
leaves," almost in emulation of the aspiring crag.
"We have reached our appointed ground," said Butler. "I shall want my
cloak, Galbraith; the dews begin to chill my limbs."
They dismounted, and Butler threw his cloak around his shoulders. Then,
in a thoughtful, musing state of mind, he strolled slowly along the bank
of the river, till he was temporarily lost to view in the thick shades
and sombre scenery around him. Robinson, having secured the horses, sat
himself down at the foot of the chestnut, unwilling to interrupt, by
conversation, the anxious state of feeling which he had the shrewdness
to perceive predominated in Butler's mind.