BESIEGERS AND BESIEGED.
The doctor compelled to return, I took the flag and advanced with it.
But the colonel hated a Yankee spy as much as a traitor, and warned
me off in short order. We gave the flag to one of the soldiers, whom
the colonel allowed to approach a little closer. They held a brief
dialogue, and then our messenger came back to us, announcing that the
colonel regarded all his men as traitors or deserters and would parley
no further with them. They might besiege him if they would, but he
meant to make a last stand for the Confederacy.
"Was he well?" I asked the man.
"I didn't see him at all," he replied, "for he talked through a chink
in the wall, but his voice was mighty high and had a crack in it."
This confirmed me in my belief that privation and excitement had
mastered the colonel. Nevertheless we must sit down to a siege of
the last rebel. We arranged our forces in such manner that he could
not leave the hut and escape unseen into the further mountains. We
waited an hour; then, as the colonel in his castle made no sign, I
and a soldier went back for Grace. We found her in the hut, waiting
impatiently to hear from us, and she did not show much surprise when I
told her that her father had fortified himself against us.
She came at once with us, and we sent her to the colonel's castle. She
returned in a quarter of an hour much cast down, and told us he was in
a fever, with wild eyes and flushed face. He refused to come out, and
nothing she said could move him. He even spoke harsh words to her,
saying she had joined his enemies. We sent her back with a couple of
blankets and some provisions, and then she returned to us again. The
colonel would allow no second person in his defensive works.
It looked like a long siege, and we prepared for it. We soon found
Crothers and his party, and we built another shack in the woods,
bringing from it the furs and other useful articles in the hut. It
was well that we did the work quickly, for Grace fell quite ill with
hardships and excitement, and soon was in a fever and talking a bit
wildly.
We put her in the shack on a bed of furs, and Dr. Ambrose, who did not
have the title of doctor in vain, attended her, and said she would be
all right in a day or so. But her illness was a misfortune, for she was
the only one who could be considered a strict neutral and could carry
messages between our little army and the colonel.
We were sufficient in number to form a picket around Fort Hetherill,
for so I named the colonel's shack, but we were very careful not to
come within range of its defender's rifle. One of the men, a good
fellow named Kimball, went a little closer than the rest of us, and
the prompt discharge of the rifle from Fort Hetherill showed that the
colonel was watching. The bullet skipped across the ice fifty feet
short of its mark. Kimball moved farther away.
Having posted the men, I made a round and cautioned each to watch
faithfully. But the caution was scarcely necessary. Every man there was
under heavy obligations to the colonel for something or other, and all
meant to take him alive.
It was cold work there on the ice, but we had brought provisions with
us, and that supply, coupled with what was stored in the hut, prepared
us amply for a siege in form. We made some coffee and served it to
the men on picket duty, following it up a little later with a nip
of whiskey for each, and they felt quite warm and comfortable. The
colonel, after his rifle-shot, rested on his arms and maybe looked to
his defences. The piece of old stove-pipe which projected through the
roof began to smoke, showing that he had firewood and that he too was
able to keep warm. It looked like a long siege.
The general commanding, who was myself, and Crothers, the second in
command, held a council of war and decided to postpone operations until
nightfall, when Crothers thought he would be able under cover of the
darkness to steal upon the colonel and take him. Then we waited for the
slow afternoon to limp away. The sun was of a dazzling brightness, but
there was no warmth in it. The ice-fields glittered under the rays,
but did not melt. The light was reflected, and with half-shut eyes we
watched the peaks and the coated trees. Sometimes faint blue, purple,
and green tints showed through the white glare.
"Crothers," said I, "if ever I go on another winter campaign like this,
I will not forget a pair of green goggles, largest size."
"I wish I had them now," said Crothers.
The glow on the ice-fields turned to gold as the sun began to set
behind the highest peak, from gold shifted to a blood-red, and as the
sun went out of sight faded and left the pale green of a wan twilight.
"These sheets of ice are in our way in more ways than one," said
Crothers. "They light up the night so much that I could put a bullet in
a silver quarter at twenty paces."
"Do you think the colonel could do as well?" I asked, somewhat
anxiously.
We thought it well to wait until past midnight, when the night would
be darkest. So we served supper and hot coffee, relieved the pickets,
and waited. The colonel in his fortress seemed to be content: at least
he gave no sign. Dr. Ambrose reported that Miss Hetherill was much
better and would be on her feet again in the morning. The night limped
as painfully as the day, and had the added demerit of being colder.
A wind came down from the northeast, and there was a raw sharp edge to
it. I shivered and my bones creaked with cold inside the heavy overcoat
Crothers had given me. May the good Lord deliver me from any more
winter campaigns! The moon, pale and icy, rose, and its chilly rays
were reflected from the more chilly ice. Pieces of ice blown from the
crusted boughs rattled dryly as they fell.
As Crothers had foretold, the white glare of the earth lighted up
the night until objects were almost as distinct as by daylight. The
outlines of Fort Hetherill were clear. I could even trace the ridges
in the bark. Any of us advancing would make a most beautiful target,
and we stuck to our determination to wait for further darkness.
The column of smoke from the colonel's hut increased, as if he too
felt the growing cold and would ward it off. Midnight came, and
shortly afterward the heavens began to darken. The outlines of Fort
Hetherill grew dimmer. I could no longer trace the ridges in the bark;
then the hut itself became an indistinct mass, seeming to wave in
the wind, which still came down from the mountain-tops and presented
bayonet-points to us. The time seemed favorable for an advance upon the
enemy's fortifications. Our plan was very simple; we formed a circle
around the hut, intending to contract this circle until we reached
the house itself, when we would rush in and seize the garrison. The
difficult part of it was to steal up so silently that the garrison
would not hear us coming: to do it we would be compelled to creep
along, taking advantage of every elevation that would shelter us.
Crothers and I started from adjacent points in the little wood, and set
out upon our hazardous advance. The ground was broken and rough, and
I soon lost sight of him, but, despite his efforts to be noiseless,
I could hear his heavy-soled boots scraping over the ice, and his
breath puffy like that of a man who was working hard. I dare say I
was interrupting the atmosphere in a similar manner; but then I was
criticising Crothers, not myself.
I got along pretty well, and was half-way to Fort Hetherill. I ceased
to hear Crothers for two or three minutes, and then I heard him
scraping along and puffing as before. As we had come half the distance
without trouble or resistance, I thought I would go over to him and
hold another conference. It seemed to me that we needed at least one
more council of war before attacking the hut, if we were to follow
strictly the mode of procedure prescribed in the military manuals.
Turning about, I crept and slid toward him until a little ridge not
more than half a foot high divided us. I could see his figure stretched
out on the ice, and I reached out to touch him. But I was anticipated,
for he reached up and grasped me by the throat with two very strong
hands. Then I saw that instead of stalking Colonel Hetherill, he had
stalked me, the stalker was stalked, and I recognized in it a fact as
painful as it was alarming.
The colonel seemed to me to be prodigiously strong for the sick man
the soldier had reported him to be. His hands compressed my throat
so tightly that I could not cry out, and my limbs were paralyzed; an
unpleasant situation for an invading army, I willingly admit. The
colonel's eyes were angry, and his face was very red, which could be
the result both of fever and of wrath. Both, I think, added to the
strength of his arms.
He sat up on the ice and held me out at arm's length like a big doll.
I knew that Crothers was near, and I wanted to cry out instantly and
wanted to do it very badly; but for the life of me I could not, with
that old Confederate's iron fingers on my throat. I had no doubt that
Crothers and the men would continue to creep upon the hut, rush into
it, and find nobody there. Meanwhile, I would be turning into a cold
corpse on the ice.
The colonel released his hold upon my throat so suddenly that I fell
upon my back and gasped, which, however, was much better than not
breathing at all.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, feeling injured in the spirit as well
as in the flesh.
"It was my intention to kill you," he said, "but I've changed my mind."
"Thank heaven!" I exclaimed, devoutly.
"I couldn't do it; it was too easy," he said.
If that was the reason, I was not so thankful. But I considered it good
policy not to explain my views just then. Although the colonel had
released me, he kept his hand on the butt of a very large pistol in his
belt. I thought it wise to withdraw.
"Good-evening, colonel," I said, giving the military salute as well as
I could in my undignified position.
"Good-evening," he said. "This is a sortie of mine, understand, and if
I have chosen to spare your life, it is for reasons of my own. I am
going back into my house, and you would better notify your friends that
I am awake and on guard. It may save them much hard work and a little
loss of blood."
He slipped back over the ice toward the fort with an agility marvellous
in an old and ill man. Despite his calm manner, I had no doubt that
fever was still in his veins. Being so nervous and excitable when well,
it was natural that he should be calm when ill, especially in certain
stages.
I could see him for at least twenty feet, and then he disappeared in
the darkness that now clothed the hut like a mask on a man's face. I
felt no doubt that he was inside, ready to shoot down the first man who
attempted to enter after him.
In this emergency I thought it best to find Crothers, notify him that
the attack had failed, and withdraw our forces. I believe a prudent
general always withdraws when things go wrong. Moreover, I was getting
very cold. Embracing the earth when it has an inch coat of ice on its
bosom is no such delightful proceeding.
Putting my ear to the ice, I heard the scraping of Crothers's hobnails
not fifteen feet away. I was sure that I was making no mistake this
time, and I speedily overhauled him, to find that it was the real
Crothers. He coincided with my view that it would be better to
withdraw, like the King of France of the ancient rhyme, and try again.
He gave a whistle which may have been a part of the Confederate set
of signals, though I don't know, and in a few minutes our entire army
had retreated and reassembled at our own hut, casualties none, and the
enemy still in possession of his defences.
As we had satisfactory proof that the colonel was vigilant, we decided
to end the military operations for that night and devote what was left
of it to keeping warm. The hut was occupied by Miss Hetherill, whom the
doctor reported to be in a sound slumber and doing well. As all the
space under shelter was necessarily reserved for the lady, we decided
to build a big fire near the hut and sit around it until morning. It
was a hard task, owing to the icy condition of the firewood, but we got
it to going at last, and the cheerful, crackling blaze put heart in us
all. We had no fear that the colonel would come out and shoot at us in
the light. He was not that kind of a soldier, and, besides, his plan,
as far as we could divine it, was to escape from us, not to inflict any
special injury upon us.
Dr. Ambrose was somewhat cast down at our failure to seize the colonel
at the first attempt, but his spirits were revived presently, and when
I asked him to tell me about some of the old battles in which he and
the colonel and the others present except myself had fought, he became
animated and time ceased to limp.
An hour of this, and the doctor broke off abruptly. As Crothers and
I had been in the thick of the campaign all the time, he suggested
that we roll ourselves in our blankets and try to get a little sleep
by the fire. We followed his advice, and in five minutes I was dead to
the world and its vanities. But presently I was dragged back out of
infinite depths and told to sit up and open my eyes.
"Why, I have just closed them, and it was at your suggestion," I said
to Crothers.
"You've been asleep for the last three hours. Wake up and look at the
weather."
I thought the weather a trifling pretext to awake a man from such
pleasant slumbers, but when I looked about I saw better. The air
had turned much warmer. There was a smack of wet in it, which to an
experienced man was certain proof of snow to come, and more of it, too,
than the thin skim of the day before. Even in the skies, naturally dark
from the night, we could see heavy masses of clouds rolling.
"It will begin inside of a half-hour," said Dr. Ambrose.
"And a snow-storm in the mountains is no light matter, doctor," I said.
"Certainly not."
A deep snow would be sure to put a great check upon our military
operations; it might even make our own situation precarious, for one
must have food and keep warm. We bestirred ourselves with the utmost
vigor, gathering firewood, and soon had a huge heap of it beside the
hut. But the snow came inside the doctor's predicted half-hour, and
with ten minutes to spare. The clouds opened, and it just dropped down.
The skim of ice was soon covered, which was an advantage, saving us
some falls and bruises, but it impeded the work on our new house. It
was perfectly obvious to us all that we must have shelter from such
a snow-fall. We were trying to make a sort of rude shed with sticks
and brushwood in the lee of a cliff. My comrades were old hands at the
business, and it was marvellous how expert they were: with some sticks
and brushwood, two or three blankets to help out on the roof, and even
the snow itself, which they banked up in ridges at the sides, they made
a comfortable place.
I was busy on this rude structure and trying to keep the snow out of my
eyes, when some one tapped me on the shoulder and said,--
"You are a promising architect, Mr. West."
I looked around in the greatest surprise, and beheld Grace Hetherill,
pale, but otherwise showing no traces of illness. The heavy dark cloak
which she wore when we started was buttoned high up around her throat,
and a neat dark fur cap enclosed her hair. She looked very handsome and
picturesque.
"I congratulate you, Miss Hetherill, on your speedy recovery," I said.
"It was merely nervousness and excitement," she replied. "A draught of
something very bitter that Dr. Ambrose gave me, and a good sleep, have
restored me."
"Very well," I said, thinking to cheer her up: "then there is no reason
why you should not help in the making of the camp, and show that you
are a better architect than I am."
"I am mountain-bred in part at least," she said, "and I know hardships.
What may I do?"
"Take hold of the end of that pole," I said, "and lift."
She seized it and with strong young muscles lifted it up. I was at the
other end, and together we swung it into place.
"That does pretty well for a rebel lass," I said.
"Here, you are the rebel," she said, "for this is our territory and
you are our prisoner."
"What's this? what's this?" cried Dr. Ambrose. His back had been turned
toward us, and he had not seen the approach of Miss Hetherill. "Just up
from a fever and out here in the snow! Go back in the hut."
There was sound sense in his command, and I added my advice to it, but
she would not go until we assured her that Colonel Hetherill was safe
in his own hut and pointed to the curl of smoke which still came from
his stovepipe.
On second thought we took our own little hut and moved it bodily to the
shed, deeming it best that all our forces should keep as close together
as possible. Then, our main task finished, we took breakfast, and
watched the snow, casting an occasional glance toward Fort Hetherill.
We were glad on the whole now that the snow had come, for if we should
be snowed up the colonel would be treated likewise, and perhaps it
would induce him to hoist the white flag.
The day had come, but it was a very dark and dreary pattern of a day. I
have seen some people who imagine that Kentucky has a warm climate. It
may have in summer, and so, for the matter of that, has Manitoba, but
for real deep snows or piercing cold that goes right through your bones
and comes out on the other side, I will match the Kentucky mountains
against anything this side of the Arctic circle.
The snow that morning seemed bent upon making a record. Some of the
flakes looked like big white goose feathers. Nor was there any nonsense
about them. They came straight down and took their appointed place on
the earth; others immediately fell and covered them up, and in turn
were served the same way. There was no wind at all. The clouds were
drawn like a huge dirty blanket across the sky, and gave to everything
except the snow itself a muddy, grayish-brown tint. Presently we heard
a sharp report in the adjacent forest, and then another, followed
speedily by another and many others, until they blended often together
like a rolling rifle-fire. A dreaming veteran might have thought he was
back in the wars, but none of us stirred, for each knew that it was the
boughs of the trees breaking with a snap under the weight of new snow.
"That might scare a man who was never in the woods in big-snow time,"
said Crothers, who had lighted a pipe and was taking things calmly.
The snow deepened faster than I had ever seen it before. I could mark
it by the way the surface lines crept up the side of our rude shed. A
few hours of such industrious clouds and the mountains would be past
travelling. The skies made promise of nothing else. There was no break
in the dun expanse.
The defiant curl of smoke from the colonel's little fort still rose.
I devoutly hoped that he would remember soon to come out and join us.
Then we could go back together to Fort Defiance, and make merry behind
stout walls that cared nothing for snow and cold. But his hut remained
tightly closed, and the snow was deepening as fast as ever.
Since the colonel would make no sign, it became evident to me that we
must. I called again my council of officers, the doctor and Crothers.
"There is nothing for us to do," I said, "but send Miss Hetherill to
the hut and see if she cannot persuade her father to join us."
"He has said that he would not admit her a second time," said the
doctor.
"She must push her way in," I said. "The door to that hut is not
strong, and a father would not fire upon his own daughter."
They agreed that my plan was the only thing feasible, and we called
Miss Hetherill. She was eager to undertake the mission. She had been
waiting to propose it, but held back, expecting us to act first.
She started at once toward the hut, which was only two or three hundred
yards away, but her progress was slow. The snow, which had now attained
a great depth, blocked the way. We watched her breaking her path
through it toward the hut, where the colonel was silent and invisible.
The little building seemed almost crushed under its weight of snow, but
the languid coil of smoke still curled from the mouth of the pipe. Miss
Hetherill was within twenty feet of the door.
"The colonel hasn't taken notice yet," said the doctor. "It would be
funny if she should find him sound asleep and in our power for hours,
if we had only thought to take him."
I watched with eager interest as the twenty feet between Miss
Hetherill and the door diminished. She reached the door and knocked. As
she stood there and waited, I guessed that she received no answer. She
knocked a second time, waited a minute or so, and then pushed the door
open and entered. She ran out again in a moment, uttering a cry and
turning a dismayed face toward us.
We ran to the hut as fast as we could, plunging through the snow. I
was the first to arrive: when I thrust my head in at the open door, I
saw that the place was empty. Some coals still smoldered upon the flat
stone which served for a rude fireplace; a dressed deer-skin lay in the
corner; but the colonel was gone beyond a doubt. One large man would
nearly fill the place.
"He's taken his rifle and ammunition with him," said Crothers, "so he's
all right."
I was glad that he had called attention to the fact so promptly, for it
seemed to indicate deliberation and not delirium on the colonel's part.
There was no need to ask what next from the men about me. Their
obligations to the colonel would never permit them to abandon the
search for him as long as one hope that he was alive existed. But the
great snow was a formidable obstacle to any expedition.
"How shall we go about it?" I asked, hopelessly, of Dr. Ambrose.
"There is no trail," he replied; "the falling snow covers up his
footsteps a half-minute after he makes them; but he must have gone up
that slash through the hills there. It is the easiest route from here,
and the one a man with no fixed idea in his head would most likely
take."
There was a general agreement with the doctor's opinion, and we planned
our pursuit at once. Four men would remain at the camp and protect it,
and relieve us should we return exhausted and without the fugitive.
Miss Hetherill would remain with them. She made some demur, saying she
was a good mountaineer and citing proof, but she yielded to the obvious
fact that a woman could make but little progress through the deep snow.
"We will be sure to bring him back," I said to her when we started.
"Take care of yourself too," she said.
"For my sake only?" I asked.
"For all our sakes," she replied.
But she blushed a little, despite the anxiety which was foremost in her
mind.
We passed up the defile, and then our party spread out like a fan. I
was convinced that the colonel could not have gone far. The snow was an
added obstacle to the naturally difficult character of the mountains.
It was still pouring down, half blinding us, and compelling us to
scrutinize every inch of the way lest the loosening drifts should carry
us in an avalanche to the bottom of some precipice, which would be
highly disagreeable.