OLD GRIZZLY’S SACRIFICE.
As Ephraim saw their terrible enemy running towards them, followed by a
number of soldiers, his heart, stout as it was, sank within him; for
Lucius, in the spasm of unreasoning terror which the mere sight of the
balloon had induced in him, hung back, a dead-weight, and refused to
move in response to either force or persuasion. It is said that a person
in the grip of severe sea-sickness would, if informed that the ship was
about to sink under him, calmly accept the fact, and welcome the change
as a blessed relief from present suffering. If this be true, then Lucius
was in very much the same state of mind. The recollection of his balloon
experiences filled him with a hideous, incapacitating fear. To ascend,
he believed, meant death. Death was behind him in another shape, but
compared with the former it seemed absolutely enchanting. These were his
thoughts, if he thought at all, and in answer to Ephraim’s wild entreaty
that he would hurry on, he did but hang back the more, while he muttered
huskily words which fell in broken, meaningless syllables from his pale
and trembling lips.
While this struggle was going on, the colonel and his men drew nearer
and nearer. Spriggs had not recognised the boys at first, but observing
from his place of concealment two Federal soldiers, as he supposed,
entering the open, had fixed his attention somewhat idly upon them. It
was not until the argument began, and he got a good, though distant,
look at Ephraim’s hairy face, that it was borne in upon him who these
seeming Federals really were. A fierce joy filled his cruel heart. He
should not have to return to camp empty-handed after all. ‘Don’t fire!’
he ordered his men. ‘Run them down and take them alive.’
Relaxing for a moment his efforts to drag Lucius to the balloon, Ephraim
cast a glance over his shoulder. The colonel and his men were still a
couple of hundred yards away, but coming on at top speed. Thirty paces
ahead was the balloon—a veritable city of refuge. One vigorous spurt,
and they could reach it and be safe. Life was very sweet, and Ephraim
could save his—if he went on alone.
But that was not the Grizzly’s way. No such coward thought even entered
his brain. Stooping down in front of Lucius, he drew the boy’s arms
around his neck, humped him on to his back like a sack of potatoes, and
staggering to his feet again, stumbled forward, his body bent almost
double under the heavy weight and the effort to preserve the equilibrium
of his well-nigh senseless burden.
‘Throttle me round the neck, Luce,’ he cried wildly. ‘Twine yer legs
around me. Don’t give in, sonny! Keep up yer sperrits, and I’ll git ye
thar!’
Scarcely conscious of what he was doing, Lucius obeyed, and Ephraim,
straightening up under this better distribution of weight, rushed madly
on with long, swinging strides.
On came the colonel. Another hundred yards and they were lost; but
gasping and groaning, Ephraim had reached the car, and with scant
ceremony tumbled Lucius into its friendly shelter.
His eyes were bulging out of his head, and the sweat poured in big drops
from off his face. His shoulder, too, was paining him terribly, and the
tremendous exertion had caused the bandages to slip, and set the blood
flowing again. But his nerves were steady and his wits clear, and he ran
swiftly from side to side of the car, deftly unloosing the knots in the
ropes that detained it.
Ping! ping! Two balls from the colonel’s revolver sang through the
cordage, and passed clean through the balloon; but with a yell of
triumph Ephraim scrambled into the car, and having cast off the loosened
ropes, began madly to fling out the bags of ballast.
Out went the sand-bags, one after the other, till but one remained, and
then, as if in response to Ephraim’s frantic invocations, old Blue Bag
put forth all her remaining strength, and though she rose but slowly,
yet after all she rose. Ephraim was wild with delight. He shouted and
sang, without knowing in the least what he was doing, and regardless of
the bullets, shook his fist at Spriggs as he came panting along. Then
there was a slight jerk, and the shouts died away upon the Grizzly’s
lips, as the balloon stood still. The grapnel, which Ephraim in his
eager haste had only torn from its hold and flung to one side, had
dragged again under the log, and now held fast.
Ephraim sprang at the rope where it was attached to the car, and tore at
the fastening; but the knot was stiff and badly tied, and in spite of
all his efforts, it refused to come undone.
Colonel Spriggs took in the situation at a glance. ‘Ha! ha!’ he laughed
savagely; ‘I’ve got you this time. You don’t escape me again.—Hurry up
there!’ he called to his men. ‘A dozen of you haul down this confounded
balloon. The rest stand ready, and if the rope gives, fire a volley
through the car.’
A rush was made towards the balloon, in which a number of men, who had
suddenly issued from the woods under the command of a young captain,
took part. The remainder of the colonel’s forces halted, and a row of
deadly, gleaming tubes was instantly levelled at the car, where Ephraim,
lost to all sense of personal danger in his anxiety to save Lucius,
tugged and strained at the knot till his nails were split, and blood
oozed from the points of his fingers. In vain: it would not yield.
‘Never mind,’ said a voice beside him. ‘We are as good as dead, anyway.
Better face them and have done with it.’
Ephraim looked round, bewildered. Lucius was standing by his side, pale,
certainly, but with a look rather of relief than otherwise upon his
face.
‘By time!’ cried the Grizzly, losing patience for once. ‘I can’t
onderstand ye, Luce. One moment ye’re as limp ez a lump er jelly, and
the next ye’re ez stiff ez the rammer er a gun. Oh, ef I’d on’y kept
Jake Summers’s knife!’
‘Haul them down!’ shouted the colonel, grinning like an ugly imp.
He was standing immediately underneath the car, looking up at the boys.
A wild storm of rage shook Ephraim from head to foot, and desisting from
his useless struggle with the knot, he stooped to the bottom of the car,
and raising the one heavy bag of ballast that remained, sent it with
unerring aim full down upon his mocking enemy.
The sand-bag struck the colonel between the neck and shoulder, and
felled him like a log; but as he measured his length upon the ground,
the car sank to earth; strong hands seized and held it fast, and the
young captain, who had been looking on in bewilderment at the singular
scene, stepped forward, and parting the ropes, ordered the boys, not
unkindly, to get out.
‘Whatever does this mean?’ he began. ‘Are you Federal soldiers, or’——But
Colonel Spriggs, rising from the ground, advanced with a face that was
absolutely contorted with rage.
‘Hold your tongue, sir!’ he shouted rudely to the captain. ‘I don’t know
who you are, nor what you want here.—As for you, you scoundrel,’ he
foamed at Ephraim. ‘You filthy rebel, you; I’ll teach you! You’ve played
your last prank.’ Then, maddened by the quiet smile upon the Grizzly’s
face, he raised his arm and thrust his fist, guarded by the heavy hilt
of his sword, violently in the lad’s mouth.
‘Take that, you dog,’ he cried. ‘What do you mean by grinning at me?’
Lucius uttered a cry of rage, and struggled violently with the men who
held him on either side; but Ephraim, spitting out a mouthful of blood,
coolly replied: ‘’Twould hev made a cat laugh ter see ye sprawlin’ thar.
I on’y wish it had broken yer neck, ye or’nery skunk.’
‘Colonel!’ exclaimed the young captain, stepping to the front. Then,
seeing that his superior was temporarily out of his senses with wrath,
and fearful of some dire catastrophe, he turned sharply upon the crowd
of soldiers, and ordered them to fall in.
The men, drilled to prompt obedience, obeyed at once; even those who
were holding the balloon loosing their grasp and joining their comrades,
the colonel’s men in one group, the captain’s in another. Instantly the
balloon rose in the air, and the grapnel having been freed in the
commotion, soared higher and higher, till at last, caught by a current
of wind, it floated over the tree tops towards the south. An hour later
it astonished Jackson’s rearguard by descending suddenly among them, a
collapsed and miserable wreck.
The colonel was striding up and down, muttering furiously to himself.
Now, when he looked up and saw the balloon drifting away, his wrath
broke out afresh.
‘What did you let that balloon away for, you fools?’ he shouted. ‘Now we
have no ropes to hang these dogs with. What did you do it for?’ He
glared at the men, who naturally made no reply.
‘It was by a mistake, colonel,’ the young officer hastened to explain.
‘It was my fault. I gave the order to fall in.’
‘And who are you, sir, to give your orders while I am on the ground?’
stormed the colonel.
‘I addressed my own men,’ replied the officer respectfully; ‘I
understand that I command my own company. Your men heard the order, and
obeyed it at the same time. Hence the escape of the balloon.’
‘Who are you, sir?’ repeated the colonel. ‘Who are you with your “I
command my own company?” You won’t command it much longer if you presume
to take so much upon yourself in the presence of your superior officer.
I tell you I won’t be answered back. I believe you let that balloon away
on purpose.’
The captain flushed deeply. ‘My name is Peters, sir,’ he answered,
‘Captain Peters of the —— Vermont. I received orders to make a detour of
these woods, to feel for an advance of the enemy. The scene which has
just passed has considerably surprised me. I know nothing of these
people, though, from the presence of the balloon, and the fact that they
are wearing Federal uniforms, I am led to believe that they are those of
whom all the camp is talking. I have no wish to hinder you in the
execution of your duty. If you conceive it to be your duty to arrest
these fellows, do so, by all means.’
‘I conceive it to be my duty,’ retorted the angry colonel, ‘to let you
know that you are too free with your speech, young man. You don’t
command anything or anybody while I am on the ground, and just you
remember it.’
Captain Peters reddened again, but held his peace. He was a volunteer
with little experience, and he really did not know whether he ought to
be at the orders of a stray colonel, just because he was a colonel.
‘We’ve got a friend in the captain,’ whispered Ephraim to Lucius. ‘We
won’t come to harm ef he kin git the whip hand.’ But this it did not
seem that Captain Peters was likely to do.
‘He’ll kill us if he can,’ replied Lucius. ‘Look at his face.’
‘I reckon,’ returned Ephraim simply. ‘The old blunderbuss is mad.’
The colonel resumed his march up and down, probably wrestling with
himself; for brute though he was, what manhood there was left in him
could not but recoil from the deed he contemplated. For several minutes
there was silence, the men standing at ease, and the captain
meditatively poking holes in the ground with the point of his sword, and
ever and anon casting furtive glances at the two prisoners.
The stillness became oppressive. Only the colonel’s hurried footsteps
broke it irregularly, and the sound jarred so much upon Ephraim’s tense
nerves that he felt he must speak at whatever cost.
‘See hyar, cunnel,’ he called out. ‘It’s cruel ter keep us standing
hyar. What ye goin’ ter do with us? Remember we ain’t done ye any harm,
’ceptin’ thet whack I ketched ye jest now, and any wan would hev done ez
much, makin’ a break fer freedom.—Cunnel!’
Captain Peters made Ephraim a swift sign to be silent; but the colonel,
after one prolonged and malevolent stare, continued his march as though
he had not heard a word.
‘The pesky critter!’ muttered Ephraim. ‘Hold up, Luce. He dassn’t do
nuthin’, and he knows it too, right well. Thet’s what’s makin’ him so
mad. He’d like ter chaw us up inter little bits, on’y he dassn’t.’
He stopped obedient to the captain’s signals, but the next moment his
roving eye caught the gleam of gun-barrels in among the trees in the
section of wood they had left when they ran for the balloon, and here
and there a face peeped out and was rapidly withdrawn; so rapidly that
the Grizzly rubbed his eyes and asked himself whether they had not
deceived him. ‘It looked like ’em,’ he said to himself; ‘but it can’t
be. How can it be? Oh, I reckon it’s some more Yanks comin’ ter see the
fun.’ He held his tongue, however, and, for want of something better to
do, took a piece of string from his pocket, and twisted it nervously
round and round his fingers, the while he kept his eyes steadfastly
fixed upon the forest opposite. But if he had seen anything, there was
nothing to be seen now. Suddenly the colonel halted in his walk, turned,
and approached them.
‘Now it’s comin’,’ thought Ephraim, twirling his string more rapidly
than ever. Lucius stood perfectly still and erect, his hands locked
behind his back, and his eyes staring straight in front of him. Whatever
his feelings, they did not appear upon the surface.
The colonel’s swarthy face was deeply flushed, his black, deep-set eyes
glittered menacingly under their bushy, overhanging brows, and he gnawed
persistently at his long moustache. It was evident that in the struggle
which had been going on in his mind, the evil had conquered the good.
Captain Peters drew himself up as the colonel neared him, and waited
silently at attention.
‘Captain Peters,’ began Spriggs, speaking rapidly in a husky voice,
whether the result of shame or of his still blazing wrath it would be
hard to say, ‘since you seem to have taken a more proper view of your
position, I will condescend to explain matters to you. You were right in
your surmise that these fellows are those who arrived yesterday in that
balloon for the purpose of making observations of our position. They
escaped, as you have doubtless heard, and they have been retaken, as you
now see.’
Captain Peters bowed.
‘Well, sir,’ went on the colonel, ‘I presume you know the punishment in
these cases, though your experience is probably not very great.’
He sneered out the last words, and still Captain Peters did not reply,
though his brown face became a shade paler.
‘We will take that for granted, then,’ pursued the colonel. ‘Very well,
sir, as, owing to your hasty assumption of the command, that punishment
cannot be carried out in the usual manner, you will take a firing party
fifty yards to the right, set these two rascals twenty paces in front,
and—shoot them.’ The word came out with a snap as though the demon which
possessed the man had forcibly expelled it.
‘Colonel!’ ejaculated the astounded Captain Peters. ‘Shoot them!
Why—why——Has the charge been proved?’
‘Your duty is to obey, sir, not to ask questions,’ said the colonel with
a hang-dog look. ‘Call your men forward at once.’
‘But, colonel,’ protested Captain Peters, ‘I beg your pardon, but I
think I should be informed why I am ordered to do this. You have your
own men, and’——
‘Obey your orders, sir. It is just to teach you that lesson, and for
nothing else,’ thundered the colonel, now more violently inflamed than
ever, because of the captain’s evident reluctance. ‘Obey your orders,
and at once, or I’ll have you disrated. Do you know who I am, sir?’
But Captain Peters held his ground like a man, and ventured on another
protest.
‘One of them is a mere boy, colonel,’ he said.
‘Boy or no boy,’ returned the colonel sullenly, ‘take him out, and shoot
him along with that hairy-faced baboon there. He knew what he was doing
when he turned spy, I’ll be bound.’
‘But I don’t see’——began Captain Peters.
‘Never mind what you see, or what you don’t see, sir,’ vociferated the
colonel. ‘I tell you that they are a couple of rascally spies. I had the
proof of it in my hand.’
‘Thet’s a lie,’ interjected Ephraim most injudiciously at this point.
‘We came down here because we couldn’t help it, not because we wanted
ter. He didn’t find any proof.’
Captain Peters looked hesitatingly at the colonel, who hastened to say:
‘From the pocket of that fellow was taken a paper covered with details
of our movements. That of itself is proof enough.’
‘Thet’s another,’ cried Ephraim. ‘Thar warn’t nuthin’ but stale news on
thet paper. Don’t ye listen ter him, captain. Ye take the resk. We han’t
had any trial. He dassn’t shoot us ’thout’n a trial.’
‘Silence!’ commanded the colonel.—‘It may satisfy you, Captain Peters,
since you require so much satisfying, that I have General Shields’s
express orders to deal summarily with these persons, when and wherever I
might find them. Now will you do your duty? I don’t choose to be kept
waiting here all the morning.’
This was decisive, and though the captain turned a sympathetic eye upon
the prisoners, he had no further objections to advance. ‘Company!
Attention!’ he shouted; but Lucius broke from the men who were standing
on either side of him, and rushed forward.
‘Captain,’ he cried, ‘that man is a liar. Here is General Shields’s own
order.’ He thrust a paper into the captain’s hand.
‘Bullee!’ chuckled Ephraim. ‘So ye got thet, too, Luce. By time! thet’ll
upset him.’
Captain Peters took the paper and read aloud: ‘“Colonel Spriggs—If you
come up with the two men who escaped from the balloon this morning, you
will detain them as prisoners, and bring them before me without taking
further action.”—This appears to be addressed to you, colonel,’ he
finished, looking up.
Spriggs advanced upon him, and simply tore the paper from his hand. ‘You
impertinent puppy,’ he raved, ‘if it is addressed to me, what do you
mean by reading it?’ He glanced over the paper and his countenance
changed, but he recovered himself. ‘You greenhorn,’ he continued
bitterly, ‘did it never occur to you to ask yourself how this precious
document came into that rascal’s hands? Are you familiar with General
Shields’s handwriting?’
‘No,’ answered the captain; ‘but’——
‘Well, I am, sir, and I declare this thing to be an impudent forgery.
Pah! You call yourself a soldier, and allow yourself to be taken in by
such a trick.’
‘It is not a forgery,’ cried Lucius. ‘Certainly, the general did not
know that we were the escaped prisoners, but he gave my chum the paper,
all the same. It’s the truth, upon my honour.’
Captain Peters looked puzzled, as well he might. ‘I don’t understand
you,’ he began, when the colonel at a white heat broke in again.
‘Captain Peters,’ he roared, ‘do your duty.’
Captain Peters hesitated for the last time. He was very young, very
sympathetic, and he did not know his position with regard to Colonel
Spriggs. But he did know what would be the consequences to himself of
disobedience on what was practically the field of battle. Finally he
said: ‘Colonel, this appears to be a very curious and unusual case.
Would it not be better, if I may say so, to refer it back to the
provost-marshal?’
For an instant the colonel paused. It appeared that one chance more was
to be given him. Then his good angel turned away and left him, and a
black lie dropped from his lips. His voice became dangerously calm. ‘I
do not know that I am bound to make explanations to you, Captain
Peters,’ he said; ‘but I have done so out of consideration for your
extreme youth and inexperience. It may be enough for you to know that I
carry the provost-marshal’s order, countersigned by General Shields, and
dated 1 A.M. to-day, to hang these fellows as soon as possible after
their capture, should I succeed in taking them; and that document, sir,
is not bogus like the one you have just read. Now, for the last time,
will you obey orders?’
Captain Peters wheeled round and faced his men.
‘Company!’ he cried. ‘Attention! You will remain drawn up in line. Your
orders are to keep a sharp lookout for the enemy. You will take no part
in this business, if you are men. That is my last word to you as your
captain.’ He turned about and faced the infuriated colonel. ‘No, sir; I
will not obey your orders,’ he said with flaming cheeks. ‘Do your
murderous work yourself, if you must do it. I am a soldier, not an
executioner. There is my sword. I am prepared to take the consequences.’
‘Bullee!’ burst from Ephraim, while a low murmur of approval ran down
the line of Vermonters. But the colonel, livid with rage, said as he
almost snatched the sword from the young officer’s hand: ‘Very good,
sir. Fall back! I shall know how to deal with you when the time
comes.—Sergeant Plowes!’ A low-browed, thick-set fellow stepped forward
and saluted. ‘Carry out the orders which Captain Peters has refused to
execute, and be sharp about it.’
In every company of men there are some souls of the baser sort, ever
ready to curry favour with those above them. The colonel had made a
careful selection from his regiment, when he set out to hunt the
fugitives down, and he knew that there was no fear of his orders being
disobeyed, whatever their character. Had not Captain Peters appeared
upon the scene it would have been all over with Ephraim and Lucius long
ago, but the presence of the junior officer had inspired Colonel Spriggs
with the mean idea of forcing some one to share the responsibility of
the execution with him. Foiled in this, he fell back upon the men he had
brought.
The sergeant also knew his men, and having named six, ordered them to
step to the front. They did so. The remainder of the company stood at
attention. Their sympathies were with the prisoners, but the fear of the
provost-marshal was before them, and as the colonel had absented himself
from them for about an hour after midnight, they could not know that he
had lied in saying that he had seen that dreaded functionary.
‘Fall in between the second and third file,’ said the sergeant to the
prisoners.
Lucius stepped forward and took his place. His head was held proudly up,
and on his pale lips was a set smile. His hands were still locked behind
his back, so no one saw how convulsively his fingers were twined
together.
‘Now then, you,’ said Plowes roughly to Ephraim, catching him by the
arm.
But the Grizzly broke from his hold, and rushed up to the colonel.
‘Cunnel!’ he cried, in heart-rending tones, ‘stop before ye do this
bloody deed. I ain’t keerin’ what ye do ter me, ez I told ye before. But
thet boy thar, thet Luce, he’s ez innercent ez a lamb. I made the
balloon jest fer ter pleasure him, and he didn’t want ter come; but I
fetched him along. He’s done nuthin’. Cunnel, ez God is above ye, don’t
harm him.’ His voice rose to a shriek. ‘Cunnel! cunnel! Hold yer hand.
Don’t shoot him. He’s his mother’s only son. He’s my friend, and I love
him. And I’ve brought him ter his death.’ He covered his face with his
hands and sobbed.
‘Take him away,’ said the colonel abruptly.
‘Cunnel!’ screamed Ephraim, struggling with the sergeant. ‘Spare him!
Spare him! Ef ye will, I’ll jine yer army and fight against my own side
till I drop. Ye’ll git one man more thet way.—Oh, what am I sayin’? I
don’t want ter git off myself. On’y let him go! On’y let him go!’
‘For shame, Grizzly!’ called Lucius. ‘Don’t degrade yourself by talking
to the ruffian.’
‘Oh, Luce, Luce!’ wailed Ephraim, suffering the sergeant to lead him
away. ‘What shall I do? What shall I do? I brought it on ye. Oh, fergive
me! Fergive me!’
‘Files! ‘Shun!’ cried Plowes, shoving Ephraim into his place. ‘Right
face! Fifty paces to the front! Quick—march!’
The melancholy procession started, Lucius still holding his head high,
and Ephraim crying and whining like a child that has been whipped.
‘Don’t cry, Grizzly,’ said Lucius, taking him by the arm. ‘They’ll think
you’re a funk. I know better; but don’t give them the chance to say so.
Don’t worry over me. It’s not your fault. I ought to have remembered
what my General said. It’s a big price to pay for being disobedient; but
it’s my fault, not yours. Oh, don’t cry so, dear old Grizzly!’
Their positions were curiously reversed. The soft, young southern voice
was calm and clear, there was no shrinking in the bright blue eyes, and
the quivering coward of half an hour before now marched to his death
with a step as steady and bearing as firm as that of any of the
cavaliers whose blood ran in his veins; while his comrade, all his
steadfast courage gone, shuffled along, his gaunt frame seeming to
shrivel in his clothes as he went, and his queer, old-looking face drawn
with the agony of his fear and self-reproach. Only there was this
difference—Lucius was thinking of himself, and that nerved him. Ephraim
was thinking of Lucius, and that unmanned him.
‘Files! Halt! Front! Order—arms!’ shouted the sergeant, and the men
stood still.
‘Now then, you two,’ said Plowes, ‘come with me.’ His rough heart was
touched for once in his life by what he had just heard, and he muttered
as they marched along: ‘I’ll make it thirty paces, and ye kin take yer
chance.’ Such a favour! And having said thus much, he placed them and
went back without another word.
Lucius straightened himself up and once more locked his fingers behind
his back. ‘Hold up, Grizzly!’ he said. ‘Don’t let them think that you’re
afraid.’
Ephraim bent his lank body and kissed Lucius on the cheek.
‘Good-bye, Luce,’ he said. ‘Maybe God’ll let me meet ye by-and-by.’
He raised his head, and swift as lightning a change came over his face,
and a flame of joy sparkled in his eyes as he stared over the heads of
the firing party at the woods beyond them.
Plowes had reached his men. ‘‘Shun!’ he called. ‘At thirty paces—prepare
to fire a volley! Ready!’
‘Ef I kin on’y gain an ounce of time,’ muttered the Grizzly, with a sob
in his throat.—‘Hold on!’ he shouted suddenly. ‘I can’t abear it. Wait
till I blind our eyes.’
‘Blind ’em, then, and be quick about it,’ returned Plowes sullenly; for
he was getting heartily sick of the job he had taken in hand.
‘I’ll not have my eyes bound,’ declared Lucius, pushing Ephraim’s hand
away.
‘It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of ye,’ stammered Ephraim, scarcely
able to speak, and Lucius submitted.
‘Now then, sharp with your own,’ called Plowes.
Ephraim drew out his handkerchief and fumbled with it in his hands, but
all the time he scanned the opposite woods. Then the light died out of
his eyes again, for save for the waving boughs that swept gently to and
fro in the morning breeze, there was nothing to be seen.
‘Now then,’ shouted Plowes; and Lucius muttered: ‘Have you got your
handkerchief on?’
‘Yes, sonny,’ answered Ephraim soothingly, as he glanced once more
towards the woods. ‘Thar they air, the boys in gray,’ he murmured. ‘Why
don’t they come out? Am I dreaming? It’s too late! too late! One of us
must go under. I reckon it’ll hev ter be me.’ Then dashing the
handkerchief to the ground beside him, he placed his right arm round
Luce’s shoulders and roared at the top of his voice: ‘Fire, boys! Fire!’
‘Ready!’ called Plowes, astonished at this mode of address, for he
supposed it to be meant for him. ‘Present!‘——
But ere the fatal word could cross the sergeant’s lips, Ephraim swung
suddenly round in front of Lucius and clasped him in his arms. The
Grizzly’s broad back was turned to the platoon, and his body covered the
friend he loved from the deadly volley.
But it never came. For before a trigger of the six rifles could be
drawn, a line of flame spurted from the opposite woods, and a frightful
roar of musketry swallowed up all other sounds. Lucius felt a sharp
agony of pain in his right ankle, and then, with a dead, heavy weight
bearing him irresistibly backwards, fell fainting to the ground with the
wild rebel yell ringing in his ears.
The battle of Port Republic had begun. For the second time Lucius and
Ephraim had stood up to the fire of their own men, and this time they
had gone down.
[Illustration:
‘Fire, boys! Fire!‘
]
[Illustration]