A DUEL IN THE DARK.
As this alarming shout rang in their ears, Lucius, forgetting his
fatigue, sprang to the mouth of the hole and made as if he would dive
again into the water. But Ephraim held him back.
‘Steady, Luce!’ he exclaimed. ‘Lie low! It’s the boat he sees—not us.’
Thus restrained, Lucius withdrew, shivering with cold, to the farthest
extremity of the hole, where he proceeded to rub himself down and dress.
Ephraim, meanwhile, took his stand at the entrance, and listened
intently for any indications of the whereabouts of the enemy.
They were not long in coming, for presently footsteps resounded on the
bank above, and a voice eagerly questioned: ‘Where? Where did you see
him?’
‘Well, I didn’t exactly see him,’ answered the first voice, much to
Ephraim’s relief; ‘but there’s the boat, and I guess he won’t be far
off.’
The corporal strained his eyes after the boat through the gathering
darkness. ‘I guess it’s empty,’ he said after a long look. ‘However,
squad, attention! At one hundred yards, fire a volley! Ready! Present!
Fire!’
Bang! crash! splinter! sputter! as some of the balls struck the boat,
and the rest fell like hailstones in the water round about her.
Ephraim chuckled softly, and rubbed his hands together in delight. ‘We
air jest ez well out er thet, Luce,’ he whispered. ‘I reckon wan or two
er them Yanks kin shoot straight.’
‘Load!’ ordered the corporal above. ‘You four,’ addressing his men,
‘follow that boat along the bank, and see if you can discover any signs
of life in her. Fire at discretion.—You, Whitson,’ to the man who had
first caught sight of the boat, ‘stay here and show me where you think
that boat came from. It was not in sight two or three minutes ago.’
Whitson pushed through the trees to the verge of the bank. ‘It seemed to
come out of the bushes just here,’ he said, peering over; ‘but I don’t
see anything.’
‘You don’t suppose the fellow is going to rise right up and look at you,
do you?’ inquired the corporal with fine scorn, adding: ‘Did you hear
anything?’
‘Not a sound,’ admitted Whitson.
‘Then it’s pretty certain there was no one in her,’ said the corporal.
‘Most likely she got caught on a snag and turned in here, broke loose,
and drifted off again. The general was right—the fellow has either gone
up the bank or struck inland. All the same, we’d better search the bank
hereabouts.’
But the projecting roof of the hole offered a sure protection to the
boys; and though more than once they could distinguish the trampling of
the feet of the soldiers above their heads, their hiding-place remained
undiscovered, and presently the search was discontinued.
‘It’s no use,’ said the corporal. ‘He is not here. Never was, I should
say. We ‘re only wasting time. Let us go back to camp.—Hello! What do
you suppose that is?’
_That_ was Ephraim’s cap, which, supported by its own lightness and the
water beneath it, hove in sight, floating gracefully down stream, some
forty yards away.
Ephraim saw it at the same moment, and softly whispered to Lucius to
come and see the fun.
‘It looks like a cap,’ answered Whitson, peering through the gloom.
‘Blamed if I don’t believe it is a cap.’
‘With a head inside it?’ pursued the corporal, also doing his best to
see.
‘I can’t say. Shall I try and find out?’
The corporal nodded, and Whitson, throwing forward his rifle, fired. The
ball struck the water some feet beyond the cap, which still moved
unconcernedly along.
‘Missed!’ cried the corporal, firing his own rifle immediately
afterwards. ‘That’s better. That wiped your eye.’
His bullet had struck the cap slantwise on the crown, turning it over,
so that it immediately filled and sank to the bottom.
‘My!’ whispered Ephraim gleefully. ‘It’s ez good ez shootin’ et bottles
et a fair.’
‘I guess it was only a cap,’ said the corporal, reloading his rifle;
‘but we can’t be sure. We’ll report the circumstance, anyhow.—Hello!
What did you find?’ This to the four men who had returned.
‘No one in the boat, corporal,’ answered one of them. ‘We followed her
down to the bend, and she ran on a shoal and turned over on her side. We
could see right into her.’
‘We’ll report that too,’ said the corporal with military brevity.—‘Fall
in! Squad, attention! Shoulder arms! Slope arms! Quick march!’
‘Thet’s one more down ter us,’ said Ephraim, with an air of relief, as
the noise of footsteps died away in the distance. ‘Thet old boat served
our turn well, after all. They won’t worry ter hunt up in this direction
any more. Thar’s been a fuss, though, Luce. Did ye hear what he said
about the ginrul? My! I reckon them Yanks will be ez lively ez a
Juny-bug ter-night, looking fer us and all.’
‘So lively,’ returned Lucius, ‘that I think we may as well give up all
hope of placing that packet in General Jackson’s hands. It is enough
that we, or rather you, have prevented it from reaching Frémont.’
‘I reckon not,’ said Ephraim thoughtfully. ‘Shields is pretty sure ter
try and git a message over ter him now thet this wan’s failed.’
‘Even so, he may change his plans,’ argued Lucius.
‘He han’t the time,’ answered Ephraim with considerable shrewdness.
‘Thet is, ef he’s on the lookout fer an attack to-morrer, and I reckon
he is. Of co’se, he may alter ’em hyar and thar, jest ter try and bluff
old Stonewall; but in the main I b’leeve he’ll hev ter abide by ’em.’
‘Well, what is it to be, then?’ asked Lucius, yawning. ‘I’m out for the
day, so I may as well take a hand in the fun. If we’re caught with that
despatch about us, we’re as good as done for. However, I suppose we may
try for the sheep now that we’ve got the lamb.’
‘But we ain’t goin’ ter let them ketch us,’ said Ephraim. ‘Ye see, we’re
a heap better off than we war this mornin’ or this afternoon, for we
know the countersign, and ef with thet we don’t manage ter slip past
their sentries, it’s a wonder. All the same, though,’ he went on, ‘we
may ez well take a couple er hours’ rest. I’m about done, I own up ter
thet, and I should say thet you wouldn’t be the worse fer it.’
‘Considering that I had four hours’ sleep this afternoon, thanks to
you,’ answered Lucius, ‘I’m not so bad. I could eat something, though;
so if you’ll produce the ham, we’ll lay the table.’
Ephraim laughed, and opening his coat, extracted the wedge of ham which
he had carried there since the morning, and which, whatever it might
have been at first, did not look very inviting now. However, hunger is
the best sauce, and nearly dark as it was, the dishevelled appearance of
the ham did not count against it; so between it and the biscuits the two
boys made a very hearty meal, chatting merrily all the while, as if they
had not a care in the world.
‘Now,’ said Lucius, when they had finished, ‘I feel as fresh as a daisy.
You lie down and sleep for the first hour, and I’ll keep watch.’
‘Air ye shore ye kin hold out?’ asked Ephraim, who did indeed feel
terribly sleepy.
‘Certain. Lie down, old Grizzly. I’ll wake you when I think the hour is
up.’
Ephraim took off his coat, and making a pillow of it, went to sleep
almost instantly, so worn out was he; while Lucius, going to the mouth
of the cave, sat down and looked over the river into the night.
It was almost dark, for the sky had clouded over, and every now and then
a few drops of rain fell, but the soft light of the summer night
prevailed to some extent, and Lucius, who could see the outlines of the
steep heights across the river, fell to picturing the battle which had
been waged beyond them that day, and wondering which side had gained the
victory. He lost himself in his musings for a quarter of an hour, and
then fumbled mechanically for his watch. ‘I wonder if the hour is up,’
he said to himself; ‘I’m beginning to feel drowsy now. Oh, I forgot. I
left it at home.’
The word gave his thoughts a new turn, and in fancy he saw his mother
grieving over his absence, and despairing of ever seeing him again. The
idea distressed him, and presently conscience began to add her stings,
and strive as he would to excuse his disobedience, his mood grew
gloomier and gloomier. ‘I hate the dark,’ he muttered; ‘it always makes
me feel so lonesome. Surely the hour must be up.’
As a matter of fact, he had kept watch but for twenty-minutes, but those
who have tried it know how slowly the minutes drag themselves along in
the dark, when the sense of time is, as it were, abolished, and the
attention, with nothing else to attract it, is firmly fixed on the
hours, whose wings seem to have been clipped for the occasion. It is the
watched pot that never boils.
At last the lonesome feeling overcame Lucius to such an extent that he
could bear it no longer; so rising to his feet, he stole softly across
the cave and sat down beside the snoring Grizzly, for company, as he
expressed it to himself. Sitting there in the deeper darkness, a gentle
drowsiness fell upon him. He made one or two not very vigorous efforts
to shake it off, and then, yielding to its delicious influence, sank
into a refreshing sleep.
Scarcely a moment later, as it seemed to him, he was awakened. A hand
was laid upon his shoulder, and another pressed lightly over his mouth.
‘Hush, Luce,’ whispered Ephraim’s voice close to his ear. ‘Git up
softly. It’s time we war out er this. They’re huntin’ fer us.’
‘Where?’ whispered Lucius back.
‘Thar’s a boat comin’ down the river. I jest caught sight er the flash
of a lantern. They’re searchin’ the banks. Come, quick!’
They groped about in the dark until they found the rifle and their
belts, which they put on, and stole to the mouth of the cave. Far up the
river they saw a little twinkling light, which, as they watched it, grew
slowly larger. Very slowly, for the search was a careful one, and the
hunters were taking their time.
‘What a good thing you saw it!’ said Lucius in a low voice. ‘They might
have walked right in upon us if you hadn’t. Oh, Grizzly,’ he added in a
tone of deep self-reproach, ‘I went to sleep without waking you!’
‘Ye rolled over on me wanst ye war asleep, and thet woke me,’ answered
Ephraim. ‘I let ye snooze ez long ez I dared. Never mind thet now. Let’s
consider how we’re ter git out er this.’
At first sight it appeared to be no easy matter, for the bank shelved
away on each side of them, and the overhanging roof of the cave
projected so far over the floor that it was impossible to reach it,
while to attempt to leap for it in the darkness would infallibly result
in a ducking, if nothing worse, in the river.
‘Ef we on’y had a light,’ muttered Ephraim.
‘I have,’ said Lucius. ‘There are some matches in the pocket of these
trousers.’
‘Ah, but we dassn’t show it,’ returned Ephraim. ‘We must think out some
uther way.’
‘Could we not just drop into the stream?’ suggested Lucius. ‘It’s so
close to the bank, we could not fail to reach it.’
‘We’ll do thet if the wust comes ter the wust,’ replied Ephraim; ‘but
not ef thar’s enny uther line; fer we might git separated in the dark,
and besides, we don’t know the depth.’
‘Be quick and think of something, then,’ said Lucius. ‘They are coming
nearer.’
Ephraim was lying down at the mouth of the cave, leaning out as far as
he could without overbalancing himself, and feeling along the face of
the rock in all directions for a ledge. At last he uttered a low grunt
of satisfaction.
‘What is it?’ asked Lucius.
‘The face of the rock jest underneath us is rough and projecktin’,’
answered Ephraim. ‘I b’leeve we could work along it. Anyway, I’m goin’
ter try. Ketch hold er the gun.’
Lucius felt for the rifle with which Ephraim had been making
investigations, and took charge of it, while the Grizzly placed his
hands upon the ledge formed by the floor of the cave, and cautiously
swung himself over.
With dangling legs he explored the rocky wall until his feet struck the
projection he thought he had felt, and resting them there, began to worm
his way along. When he had reached the extreme angle of the cave, he
stopped, and, clinging with one arm, thrust out the other to continue
his explorations. It met the stout bough of a tree overhanging the
river. Ephraim pulled with all his might. It held, and he determined to
risk it. Letting go his hold of the ledge, he threw all his weight upon
the bough, grasping it with his disengaged hand as he swung off into
space. The bough bent beneath his weight, and his feet dipped into the
river as he hung, but he struggled blindly on, and in another moment
felt the firm earth under him as he struck the shelving bank.
‘Bullee!’ he said, as with an effort he regained his balance.—‘Luce! Air
ye thar?’
‘Yes,’ answered Lucius. ‘Have you managed it?’
‘You bet,’ returned Ephraim cheerfully. ‘All ye hev ter do is ter hang
on ter the ledge and feel with yer feet till you kin git a hold. Then
work yerse’f along till ye come ter the end of the hold and grab fer a
branch. Hang on ter thet, and ye’ll be safe.’
‘But the gun,’ said Lucius. ‘Shall I leave it behind?’
‘By time, no!’ exclaimed Ephraim. ‘It’s all we’ve got, and we don’t know
when we may want it. Hyar, I’ll come back fer it, and ye kin pass it
along.’
He felt for the friendly bough, and presuming that he had found it,
threw his weight upon it. Instantly it cracked across, and down he went
into the water with a great splash. Fortunately he fell close under the
bank, and wildly grasping, caught a clump of bushes and dragged himself
out.
‘It’s all right, Luce,’ he called up to the boy, who was listening
anxiously. ‘I must hev caught the wrong one. I’m on’y wet about the
legs.’
‘It’s all wrong,’ replied Lucius under his breath; ‘those fellows have
heard the splash: I’m sure of it by the way the lantern is being moved
about.’
‘Half a breath,’ said Ephraim. ‘We won’t leave the gun ef we kin help
it. I’ll hev anuther try.’
He went to work again more cautiously, and this time got hold of the
right bough.
‘Send her along, Luce,’ he said. ‘Careful now. We don’t want her goin’
orf like the first wan.’
Lucius cautiously extended the gun, which, after one or two ineffectual
attempts, Ephraim caught and landed safely. For an active boy like
Lucius the rest was easy, and in a very short time he joined the Grizzly
on the bank.
‘Which way now?’ inquired Lucius, when once they had attained the level
ground above.
‘Oh, up the river,’ answered Ephraim. ‘We must keep our faces towards
old Stonewall’s camp. We’re all right now, I reckon, with these uniforms
and the countersign. It’s lucky we’ve got thet.’
Alas, poor Ephraim! He did not know of General Shields’s order, nor how
anxiously his arrival was expected by every sentry along the line.
‘I wonder what time it is,’ said Lucius in the low tones they had
learned of necessity to adopt.
‘It orter be about nine o’clock,’ answered Ephraim; ‘but we’ve no way of
knowin’. Thar’s a moon, too, about midnight, I’m sorry ter say; but
p’raps the clouds won’t let her through. I’m fond er the moon; but jest
this wan night I’d do without her and willin’.’
‘It won’t be as dark outside this belt of trees as it is here,’ said
Lucius, as they moved along.
‘All the wuss fer us,’ said Ephraim; ’fer outside ’em we must go. This
belt is shore ter be full er sentries all along the river line. We must
work our way down ter them fields we crossed this afternoon, and grub
along through the ditch. That’ll be——Hush! Some one’s comin’. Lie down.’
He sank noiselessly to the ground among the underbrush as stealthy
footsteps were heard approaching. Lucius followed his example, and the
two lay side by side, scarcely daring to breathe.
General Shields had left nothing undone to recover his all important
despatch, and the search was being vigorously prosecuted in every
direction. A couple of boats had been procured, one being sent up and
the other down the river, while, at the same time, land parties
patrolled the bank, so that the fugitive, if discovered, would be
caught, as it were, between two fires. Such a fate would have been
inevitable for the boys, had not the vigilance of the Grizzly averted
it, and Lucius blushed in the darkness as a pang of shame shot through
him at the thought of the danger to which his self-indulgence in going
to sleep upon his post had exposed them. He burned with affection at the
recollection of Ephraim’s quiet self-abnegation in calmly accepting the
inevitable and rising to take a double share of watch, and roundly
resolved that when the next time of trial came he should not be found
wanting. As it was, their position was precarious enough, for the
footsteps drew nearer, and their eyes could catch the gleams of a
lantern as it swung to and fro, while up from the river came the soft
splashing of oars, dipped gently by careful rowers.
Nearer and nearer came the lantern, and now by its light the anxious
watchers could distinguish dimly the outlines of half a dozen soldiers,
who stealthily followed their guide. Now and again a beam of the lantern
light flashed upwards and was reflected back from the fixed bayonets of
the party, and an uncomfortable thrill passed through Lucius as he
wondered how it would feel to be skewered to the ground like a beetle
with a pin stuck through it. He was rather fond of collecting things,
and for the first time in his thoughtless existence he realised what
must be the feelings of the ‘bugs,’ as he called them, which he was in
the habit of treating so unceremoniously. However, he was quite content
to realise it in imagination, and having no desire to experience the
sensation in actual fact, kept his place as immovably as a statue thrown
to the ground.
The search party was almost abreast of them now, keeping pace with the
men in the boat, and the two lanterns, one flashing upwards, and the
other downwards, made a pool of light which came uncomfortably close.
Another moment of breathless suspense and the party had passed by and
darkness once more swallowed up the trembling watchers.
But they were not out of danger yet, and Ephraim’s hand stole out and
gripped Luce’s shoulder as a soft hail came from the river.
‘Above there!’
‘Here!’ came the muttered reply.
‘This should be about where we heard that splash.’
‘A little farther on, I think.’
‘Forward, then, and keep your eyes open.’
Tramp! tramp! The soft tread was resumed, and Ephraim put his mouth
close to Luce’s ear.
‘They’ll find the cave in anuther minnit,’ he whispered, ‘and when they
do, we must move off. Thar’s shore ter be a hullaballoo.’
He was right. In a few minutes more another hail arose from the river,
this time louder, more imperative, more confident.
‘Above there!’
‘Here!’
‘Halt! Close up towards our light. There’s a hole of some sort here.
Maybe he is inside.’
Silence for a little space, and then an exultant shout from the bank.
‘What have you found?’ This from the boat.
‘Nothing in the way of a man. But a broken branch and a sloppy mess all
around.’
‘Hold on till we pull under. If he’s in there, we’ll soon have him out.’
‘Mind you don’t get your head blown off.’
This very probable consequence to the first man who should put his head
into the mouth of the hole caused a corresponding diminution of
enthusiasm, and low mutterings arose from the boat.
‘Private Storks, stand up in the boat and flash the lantern into that
hole.—You above there, throw the light down as far as possible, and be
ready.’
Great alacrity on the part of those on the bank. Considerable hanging
fire on the side of Private Storks.
‘Now then, Storks, look sharp. You ‘re not afraid, are you?’
A muttered disclaimer from the reluctant Storks.
‘Private Flemming,’ in a very angry voice, ‘lift up that lantern and
show this fellow Storks what a man is made of.’
A noise of scrambling in the boat, the twinkling of the lantern for an
instant through the trees. Then bang! and a roar of laughter, followed
by a storm of angry execrations. Private Flemming, by way of showing
Private Storks how to be brave, had raised the lantern in one hand, his
gun in the other, fired into the hole in order to make safety sure, and
incontinently tumbled backwards into the boat to the imminent danger of
his trusty comrades.
‘Confound you!’ shouted the officer in charge. ‘Who told you to fire.
You’ve given the fellow warning now, if he’s not there. Up with you,
some one, and see if this fool has been firing at a blank wall or not.’
The laughter above ceased at the angry command of the officer, but long
ere it died away, and under cover of the friendly noise, the two boys,
wriggling on their stomachs like a couple of great snakes, had put a
good fifty yards between themselves and the men on the bank.
‘By time!’ muttered Ephraim. ‘Thet’s mighty good fun fer them; but it’s
jest ez well you and me war out er thar, Luce.’
They rose to their feet, and moving warily, soon passed out of the
fringing belt into the open. Then, at Ephraim’s direction, they ran as
fast as they could, till a multitude of twinkling fires told them that
the Federal troops lay close upon their left hand.
‘Five minnits fer refreshments,’ whispered Ephraim, ‘and then the next
act’ll begin. See hyar, Luce, it’s all Virginny ter a sour apple thet
they’ve got a chain er sentries right across from the camp to the
river-side. We must dodge ’em. Ef wanst we kin git ter the ditch, we’ll
be safe—so fur.’
They stole back just inside the belt of trees, and moved on, a step or
two at a time. Sure enough, presently they could hear the measured tread
of a sentry as he paced backwards and forwards upon his short beat.
‘It won’t do to try the countersign just here,’ whispered Lucius. ‘It’s
too close to the camp.’
‘No,’ answered Ephraim. ‘We must crawl past him, one at a time. You go
first. Ef he sees ye, thar’s this.’ He touched Lucius with the rifle.
Once again Lucius cast himself down flat upon the ground, and
progressing by fractions of an inch, approached to within a few feet of
the sentry. So close was he as the man passed him, that by stretching
out his hand he could have caught him by the leg. But the darkness
favoured him, though it was light enough to see ten paces away, and the
man walked past unsuspiciously. Before he could turn again, Lucius had
writhed beyond his beat and ensconced himself among the trees, where he
waited for Ephraim.
The Grizzly had stood with his finger on the trigger, ready to fire if
occasion arose; but now judging that Lucius must be past the human
obstruction, he noiselessly lowered the hammer of his gun and prepared
to make the effort on his own account.
It was more difficult for him than for Lucius, encumbered as he was with
his rifle; but Fortune favours the bold, and in ten minutes’ time he
found himself once more beside his comrade. They waited till the sound
of footsteps told them that the sentry’s back was once more turned to
them, and then crawled farther away. In this way they passed a second
and a third sentinel, and at length the end of their labours presented
itself in the shape of the field which they had crossed in the
afternoon. They dared not rise, however, for fear of being seen, and a
final crawl of nearly a hundred yards had to be accomplished before they
found the safe retreat of the ditch.
‘Thet’s well,’ said Ephraim, contentedly placing his back against the
side of the ditch and thrusting his long legs out in front of him. By
the time we git ter the end er this, we’ll hev got over a right smart
piece er the way.—How d’ye feel, Luce?’
‘I’m all right,’ answered Lucius. ‘Have a cracker? I’ve got a few left.’
‘We may ez well eat ’em,’ said the Grizzly, accepting his share and
beginning to munch; ’fer it’s pretty sartin thet ef we don’t breakfast
in our own camp ter-morrer, we will in the Yanks’. Ef we don’t reach
Stonewall ter-night, we never will.’
‘Come on, then,’ urged Lucius. ‘Another mile and a half ought to take us
there.’
‘Right!’ said Ephraim, rising to his feet. ‘Wait a minnit, though.’
Something clanked in his hand as he spoke.
‘What’s that?’ asked Lucius. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Fixin’ my ba’net,’ quoth Ephraim. ‘Ye never know what’ll happen, and
it’s best ter be ready. We’ve gone along and come safe through up ter
now; but wan er my books says somewhar “the darkest hour’s before the
dawn,” and maybe jest ez we think we’re safe the bust’ll come.’
Prophetic words, though Ephraim knew it not. The ditch in which they
were had been marked by General Shields as a possible means of exit for
any one lurking in the fields, and a thorough search of it had been
made. This, of course, led to no result, as the boys were far away at
the time; but the general’s astuteness had not ended there, and a sentry
had been placed at the end of the ditch remote from the camp—that is,
nearest the Confederate lines, with definite orders to shoot any one
issuing out of it if he could not give a good account of himself, and
that, even though he wore the Federal uniform.
Sharp orders these, and liable to make any Federal skulker realise that
there were other paths beside those of glory which led to the grave.
Moreover, there was but slender chance that they would be disregarded,
for the sentry chosen for this special duty was a grizzled sergeant, who
had smelt powder in the Mexican campaign, and by reason of years of
training on the frontier, was up to every dodge of those masters of
deceptive strategy, the redskins. Small hope, then, that honest Ephraim,
with his simple cunning, would, notwithstanding his victory over the
green Captain Hopkins, be able to beat to windward of so astute a
warrior as Sergeant Mason. The darkest hour which Ephraim had hinted at
was at hand. And yet not quite the darkest.
The ditch down which the boys were travelling intersected, as has been
said, two fields—that on the right, some two hundred yards from the
river; that on the left, about four hundred from the wood. These two
spaces on a line with Sergeant Mason were destitute of sentries, though
four hundred yards behind the sergeant, who stood expectant, but
unconscious of the approach of his prey, ran a double line of pickets,
right across from river to mountain. These were the outposts, and kept
their watch almost cheek by jowl with Jackson’s men, not half a mile
beyond. Thus the outlet of the ditch had but this solitary defender, but
in placing Sergeant Mason there, General Shields had shown his wisdom;
and, moreover, the alarm of the sergeant’s rifle, should he see fit to
discharge it, would within five minutes bring him support from a dozen
different points.
Sergeant Mason stood with his rifle resting easily in the hollow of his
right arm, more in the attitude of an expert backwoodsman than in that
of a sentry on guard, but his keen eyes glanced continually right and
left over the dim, yet not absolutely dark, meadows, or straight ahead
into the black funnel that intersected them. He had been there three
long hours already, and was beginning to feel a little out of temper.
And when Sergeant Mason was out of temper, it boded ill for whoever
should cross his path at that inauspicious season.
Suddenly the sergeant started slightly. His quick ears, intently
strained, had caught a faint sound, as of some one moving in the ditch.
His ill-humour vanished, down came his rifle with its sharp bayonet to
the charge, and he was at once the veteran soldier, used to war’s
alarms, and ready for any emergency.
He leaned forward striving to pierce the gloom of the ditch; but he
could see nothing. Only once again that soft rustling sound, as of the
wind gently blowing over reeds. Then it ceased.
Ceased so suddenly that the sergeant’s suspicions were at once
redoubled. Evidently it was not the wind. But Mason was too old a hand
to act rashly, so he did not challenge, for fear of scaring his game,
but waited patiently for the end.
Again the rustling. This time surely a little louder, a little nearer.
The sergeant’s heavy moustache bristled with anticipation, and his lips
parted in a cruel smile, as he tightly grasped his rifle.
Not a sound he made as he stood there, silent and stiff as if carved out
of ebony. But he had been seen for all that, and even now the boys,
crouching low in the ditch, were holding a whispered consultation.
‘I think thet he hes heard us, Luce,’ said Ephraim. ‘Listen ter me and
do jest ez I tell ye. Crawl out er the ditch on yer left and make a wide
leg ter git behind him. Ez soon ez ye start, I’ll up an’ face him so ez
ter cover any noise ye make. Wait fer me until I git past him—and I will
git past him one way or anuther—and when ye hear me run, foller ez hard
ez ye kin.’
The first part of this well-laid plan was carried out to the letter; but
as to the second—ah! there Ephraim had reckoned without Sergeant Mason.
Lucius made off as he had been told to do, for after what he had seen,
his faith in Ephraim’s strategic powers was absolutely unbounded, and as
soon as he was clear of the ditch, the Grizzly, with much rustling of
his feet and a great outward show of confidence, advanced towards the
outlet of the ditch.
From his superior height upon the slight embankment Sergeant Mason
looked down and smiled grimly. He never suspected the presence of
Lucius, wriggling along to attain a point behind him. His whole mind was
intent on the solitary figure, advancing towards him.
‘Halt! Who comes there?’ he challenged, and Ephraim brought up standing,
halted within six paces of the bayonet’s point.
‘Friend!’ he answered laconically.
‘What’s your business?’ demanded Mason, wishful to make sure of his
ground and his man.
‘Speshul,’ returned Ephraim, also feeling his way.
‘That so? What mought be the natur of it? I’m hyar tew find out, yew
know.’
‘Out after a man wearin’ a Federal uniform, and supposed ter be a rebel
spy. Kin I pass?’
‘I guess so. If yew have the countersign.’
Alas, poor Grizzly, the fighter of redskins is going to be too much for
you! Ephraim advanced a pace or two.
‘Halt!’ said the sergeant again. ‘Is that yewr idee of giving the
countersign?’
‘Shenandoah!’ replied Ephraim boldly, and never before had been so near
death as at that minute.
Had Sergeant Mason, smiling grimly behind his thick moustache, obeyed
orders strictly, he would have fired then and there, for the word was
not Shenandoah, and Ephraim’s account of himself had not been good; but
two reasons restrained Mason. If the man turned out to be a brother
Federal, he did not wish to have his blood upon his hands, skulker
though he might be in view of the morrow’s expected fight; and,
secondly, if the man were proved to be the rebel spy, Mason considered
that a capture would redound more to his credit than an execution.
Therefore Sergeant Mason held his hand, and bringing his rifle up to the
port, said briefly: ‘Pass, friend!’
On came Ephraim, his shambling gait and loose-jointed frame contrasting
ridiculously with the square, well-knit, soldierly figure in front of
him; but just as he had set one foot on the bank to leap out of the
ditch, being so far at a disadvantage, the sergeant suddenly altered his
position, and bringing his rifle to the low guard, said sharply:
‘Surrender, my man. You’re my prisoner.’
On the lookout for surprises, Ephraim’s heart yet seemed to leap into
his mouth at this; but he was quick to act. Jumping back from the steel
that almost touched his neck, he grasped his own rifle with one hand by
the breech and with the other by the barrel, and before the sergeant
could realise his intention, rushed madly at him up the bank.
Their bayonets met with a clash; but so furious was the assault, and so
utterly unexpected, that even Sergeant Mason, man of iron though he was,
gave back before it, and Ephraim springing from the ditch, found
himself, so far at least as the ground went, at an equal advantage with
his foe.
For an instant they stood fronting each other, their bayonets crossed,
and only the space of their rifles between them.
The sergeant breathed hard and drew back the hammer of his gun.
‘Surrender!’ he said, ‘or you’re a dead man.’
Ephraim heard the click, and his answer was another rush. Swift as
thought he turned his wrist, and by sheer force tossed the barrel of the
sergeant’s rifle in the air, just as the latter’s finger touched the
trigger.
Bang! The bullet soared away high over the tops of the trees in the
wood, and once more the sergeant recoiled before his impetuous
antagonist. He began to wish that he had fired first and made inquiries
afterwards.
‘Surrender, you fool!’ he hissed through his clenched teeth; ‘that shot
will bring a hundred men down upon you.’
For answer, Ephraim cocked his own rifle and fired. There was a slight
fizzle as the cap snapped, but no report. The various uses to which the
rifle had been put that day had not improved its quality as a
‘shooting-iron,’ and the powder was thoroughly wet.
The rifles were the old-fashioned, muzzle-loading pattern. There was no
time to reload, and like lightning Ephraim rushed forward to renew the
attack.
Then began a battle royal. Sergeant Mason was a strong man, and knew the
use of his weapon; but the Grizzly was a living instance of the truth of
the saying, that a man who knows nothing of rule will very often puzzle
an expert. So it was now, as Ephraim, fired with unaccustomed fury,
lunged and thrust, parried and recovered, or swept his bayonet in
narrowing circles round his antagonist’s head, to the utter
mystification of Mason, accustomed to the one, two, three of the
regulations.
Clink! clank! rattle! crash! The sharp steel met and parted, parted and
met again. The fighters could but just distinguish each other in the
gloom, even as they stood now with bayonets locked, breathing hard in
anticipation of the next rally.
Clank! The sergeant disengaged, and lunged straight and swiftly out. The
bayonet passed under the Grizzly’s left arm; but he brushed it aside
with a wild swirl of his rifle, and thrust in return so close to the
sergeant’s heart, that but half an inch further would have settled the
question for good and all.
Mason sprang backwards just in time, now hotly pressed by the furious
Grizzly. Here was a foeman of a temper he had not bargained for when he
made that light arrest.
‘Help!’ he roared at the top of his voice. ‘A spy! a spy! Over hyar by
the ditch.’
Clank! clank! clink! clink! Fierce thrust and sudden parry. Another
fiery rally. This time the sergeant felt the wind of Ephraim’s bayonet
past his neck, and a hot spurt of breath upon his face, as the Grizzly,
almost overbalanced by his frenzied rush, stumbled forward.
With a mighty effort he recovered his footing. Clink! clank! Down swept
Mason’s glittering steel. Another lock. A rapid disengagement; and, ere
Ephraim could retreat, the long blade lunged straight at his face.
The Grizzly dodged; but the sharp point, driven by the strong, angry arm
behind it, found its way through his coat, and ploughed up the muscles
of his shoulder. The pain drove him wild, and with a roar of rage he ran
in upon his foe, careless of his own exposure, and raising his long
rifle by the barrel, brought it smashing down upon the bare, defenceless
head.
Under that frightful stroke Sergeant Mason dropped his weapon, reeled
from side to side like a drunken man, and dropped to earth as one dead.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]