CAPTAIN STINGER THE FIRE-EATER
As soon as Dr. Farnwright reached the prostrate form of Lieutenant
Gilder, he shook his head as he glanced at the major; for the advance of
the platoon had left them in the rear. He examined his patient, who had
passed beyond human aid. The ball had struck him in the chest, and had
doubtless penetrated his heart. His body was borne to the rear. Major
Lyon was sad; but the loss of the noble young man did not affect him as
it did the sergeant, for there was nothing revengeful in his nature.
Knox was disposed to annihilate the rabble in front, of him; but he was
an obedient soldier, though he had ordered the discharge of pistols
without orders; for the firing of the ruffians, and especially the fall
of the gallant lieutenant, seemed to render any commands unnecessary.
The major directed him to move his platoon forward, and he kept on the
flank himself as he did so.
Half-a-dozen of the enemy attempted to run by the troopers on the side
of the colonel's house, where Deck had passed the mob; and the sergeant
ordered a file of his men to arrest them. Only two of them had a musket
in their hands, and one of them had a sword at his side. Major Lyon
observed the movement, and ordered the man with the side arm to be
brought to him. Most of the soldiers thought the commander was too
tender of such a horde of ruffians; but he regarded it as little better
than murder to shoot or cut down the enemy, now entirely in his power.
The man wearing the sword appeared to be of a better class of citizens
than the majority of the freebooters. He wore a neat business suit, and
was rather small in stature. He held his head up with something like
dignity in his bearing, and bestowed frequent glances upon his
companions in arms whom he had deserted. The five others were put under
guard where they were captured, and informed that they would be shot if
they attempted to escape. A couple of soldiers drove the one called for
over to the commander.
"Who and what are you?" demanded the major, without any savagery in his
voice or manner.
"I am Lieutenant Garbold; and I am second in command of the force in
front of you," replied the prisoner civilly enough.
"And you have deserted your companions in arms?" added the commander.
"Yes, if you choose to call it by that name; but Captain Stinger and
myself disagreed, and I was not willing to stand there and be shot down
by about three times our own number," replied Garbold.
"Are you and the other man provided with commissions from any source?"
"Not yet; but we claim to be in the service of the Confederate States of
America, waiting for our commissions, and for our men to be mustered in.
We belong to the regular service."
"Hardly," added the major, with something as near like a sneer as he
could gather about his mouth. "You will excuse me if I regard you simply
as unorganized freebooters, land pirates. Your mission is to rob and
outrage the citizens of this village; and the ringleaders ought not to
object to being hung on the first convenient tree."
"We don't rob nor injure any true citizens of Kentucky," replied Garbold
rather sullenly. "As to hanging any of us, we are willing to die in the
good cause; and two Yankee officers will swing for every one of us you
serve in that way."
"That question can be settled later in the day, and our business is with
the present moment," added Major Lyon with becoming dignity. "Who
commands that rabble in front of us?"
"Captain Jeruel Stinger."
"Upon what did you disagree with him?"
"To explain my own action, and not to gratify your curiosity, I will
answer the question," replied Garbold, who evidently intended to be as
"gamy" as one who had run away from his command could be. "I was not in
favor of standing there and allowing our men to be butchered after
resistance was useless. I said as much to Stinger, and I told him I
should step out."
"You were sensible," replied the major. "I am not disposed to sacrifice
your men if it can be avoided. Is Captain Stinger still of the same
mind?"
"I presume he is. He is an out-and-out fire-eater; and there is no more
reason in him than there is in a mule."
"The night is coming on, and we have no time to trifle with the
question. If you will return to Captain Stinger with a squad of troopers
under a flag of truce, I"--
"Me!" exclaimed Garbold. "Stinger would shoot me at sight. I will not
go. I had rather be hanged by the enemy than shot by my friends,"
interposed Garbold.
"Then the loss of any more of your men must rest on your shoulders, and
not on mine. Take him away," replied the commander.
Major Lyon was still unwilling to charge upon the rabble; for they had
ceased to fire their rusty firelocks. It was getting dark, and something
must be done. He called Deck, and gave him a mass of instructions, which
the orderly took in without any repetitions, for Captain Gordon. Colonel
Coffee volunteered to conduct the messenger though his grounds to a gate
near the position of the other portion of the company; and Deck
delivered his message. He was rather sorry he was not permitted to
proceed as he had before; for he had abundant confidence in his ability
to take care of himself.
The commander rode up a bank at the side of the road, where he could see
over the heads of the enemy as soon as his son returned to him. A moment
later he saw Captain Gordon deploy a line of skirmishers, which extended
entirely across the broad avenue, with another rank behind them. Both
advanced in slow time, with none of the fury of a regular charge; but it
was soon evident that they "meant business."
Captain Stinger seemed to be confused, and failed to understand the slow
movement of his foe, and gave no orders. At the same time, and in the
same manner, Sergeant Knox led his men forward; and the "fire-eater" in
command of the rabble could not help seeing that his command was to be
pinched between the two approaching bodies of troopers. Life kept
himself well in advance of his skirmishers; and possibly he felt more
like a brigadier-general than ever before in his life. He watched the
enemy with the eye of an eagle ready to swoop down upon his prey.
Captain Stinger evidently realized that if his men fired in either
direction, the troopers would charge upon them, and it would be but the
work of a minute or two to slaughter the whole of them. He was seen to
make a gesture to a man who was preparing to fire without orders, and
the ruffian refrained from doing so. He plainly knew not what to do,
since there was nothing he could do. But when the front rank of Knox was
within twenty feet of him, with the sergeant ahead of it, he seemed to
be unable to "hold in" any longer, and unslung the rifle at his back.
Knox saw that he was to be the first victim of the irate fire-eater; and
he jammed his heels into the flanks of his spirited steed, the animal
making a long spring, which brought him up with the front line of the
enemy. Still pressing the steed forward, he upset two or three men, and
brought up, when the horse could go no farther, alongside the captain.
The doughty sergeant did not wait to trifle with any weapons, but,
leaning over, he seized the captain by the collar of his coat, dragged
him from his horse, and placed him across his holsters. Bending over his
victim, he held him in his place by the pressure of his body, while he
wheeled his horse, and made his way out of the crowd.
"Take 'em that way!" he shouted to the men.
But there was hardly one of them who had the physical strength to
accomplish such a feat, though they soon grappled with the guerillas,
and dragged them out of the _mêlée_. The men on the other side of the
enemy resorted to the same sort of tactics, which was not laid down in
the regular manual for the instruction of the cavalry.
Captain Stinger was not a model Kentuckian physically any more than his
lieutenant; if he had been, Knox could hardly have handled him so
conveniently. The pressure of the sergeant's chest upon his backbone had
a tendency to tame him; but he was trying to get at some weapon
concealed upon his person. Knox had his pockets under command, and took
two revolvers from them, which he thrust into his breast. He had his
sabre dangling by the tassel knot at his right wrist, while he held the
reins with his left hand. His right was at liberty to seize the pistols.
He hurried his horse to the place where the guards had the six prisoners
in charge. There he hurled his victim to the ground, and ordered the men
to look out for him, and not let him escape, if they had to put a bullet
through him. The sentinels were all mounted; and, as the last prisoner
had been disarmed, there was no danger that he would run away.
Knox returned to his command; but, as he expressed it, "the fun had all
gone out of the guerillas," and it was hardly necessary to drag out any
more of them, for they were all as tame as sick kittens. The men had
secured about a dozen of them, taking them to the guard-house, as they
called the locality of the captives. The major had followed up the
movement, and he could not refrain from laughing at the novel tactics of
the first sergeant.
He directed Knox to fall back with his men, and sent Deck to the captain
to drive the remaining freebooters before him. The ruffians moved before
them at the order of the officer. They were halted in the middle of the
square, and there disarmed, those who had not thrown away their weapons.
While the commander was observing this ceremony, a trooper rode up, and
saluted him.
"A message from Captain Truman," said the cavalryman as he did so.
"What is it?" demanded the major, fearful that the second company had
been attacked by a superior force, and needed a re-enforcement.
"A messenger came from a place called Plain Hill, saying that a band of
mounted men was approaching the village, and they feared the place would
be plundered," replied the messenger. "Captain Truman has just marched
for the place, leaving only a guard at the camp."
"All right; his action is approved, and I hope he will get there in
season to capture the enemy, as we have done here," replied Major Lyon,
as he looked about him for Colonel Coffee and Mr. Elbroon. "Where is the
colonel, Dexter?"
"He is looking over the prisoners as they bring them in," replied Deck.
The major rode over to him. Most of the prisoners were tame and
submissive; but the fire-eater and his lieutenant were figuratively at
swords' points: and it was fortunate for one or both of them that they
had been disarmed, for the former had pitched into the latter with his
fists, and the guards had been obliged to pull them apart.
"That Captain Stinger wanted to be sent to Congress before the war; but
the people wouldn't do it. He is a politician, and a mischievous cur,"
said the colonel, when he saw the major at his side.
"Put him in irons, or tie his arms behind him, Styles," said the
commander, addressing the sergeant of the guard, "if he don't behave
himself. I have a message from the camp, Colonel Coffee," continued he,
turning to the magnate of Greeltop. "Where is Plain Hill, sir?"
"Five miles to the south of us, Major; a village about the size of
Greeltop. Any news from there?" inquired the colonel with decided
interest.
"Captain Truman, of our second company, whom I left at the camp, has had
a message from the place, to the effect that a band of guerillas were
approaching the place; and he marched at once with all his company but a
camp-guard."
"Good!" exclaimed the magnate.
"Heaven be praised!" added the reverend gentleman with a gun in his
hand. "It is a mercy that your company was at hand."
"Good! I say," almost shouted Captain Stinger. "Heaven be praised that
Vinegold is getting there! Our prayers will all go the same way!"
The fire-eater was near enough to hear what the major said.
"I only hope he will burn every house in the place," added the captain.
"There is not such another nest of traitors in Kentucky, unless Greeltop
is the other."
"Who is Vinegold, Captain Stinger?" asked the commander.
"Major Vinegold is a man after my own heart," answered the prisoner.
"If he is your friend, you will be likely to see him before morning,"
added the major, as he turned away.
The prisoners were placed in the centre of the united company, and
marched to the camp just as the darkness was beginning to gather on the
landscape. All the people in Greeltop were in the roads, and greeted the
soldiers with applause and cheers as they marched by them. The officers
and most of the privates were loaded with bouquets on the way.
Several times the magnate, who returned to the camp with the troopers,
began to tell the commander something about Plain Hill; but the cheers
he was obliged to acknowledge prevented him from giving attention, and
the subject was delayed to another time.