“Come, why don’t you obey orders?” growled Lieutenant Boggs, as Cavalry
Curt hesitated a moment.
“Danged if I see just how I am going to get up to that first limb,”
muttered the scout. “I never was much of a climber,” and he started
around the tree, obviously to find a way to ascend its trunk, but
really to test the intentions of his companions.
No sooner had he moved than their rifles were half-raised and they
seemed ready to spring upon him. He no longer doubted their purpose.
Neither did he delay further in his course of action.
“We’ll show you a way to get your lubberly carcass up there if you
don’t try for yourself pretty lively,” exclaimed the lieutenant,
impatiently.
“If some of you will just give me a boost I guess I can get up here,”
declared Curt.
With the assistance of a couple of the others he was enabled to reach
the first branch when he slowly drew himself up until he had gained its
support.
Glancing over his shoulder he saw that the squad had covered him with
their guns, and that Lieutenant Boggs was smiling triumphantly.
Without seeming to notice their hostile movement, however, Cavalry Curt
continued his ascent of the pine.
Feeling confident of their game the Confederates allowed him to go up
higher until his form began to fade from sight.
“We can take him as he comes down,” said Boggs. “Look sharp for him,
boys.”
This was spoken in an undertone which of course did not reach the
scout’s ears, though he knew well enough their intentions.
Higher and higher he rapidly ascended the tree, until at last he was
near the top.
Parting the thick branches he gazed out upon the surrounding country
scene for several miles in the clear starlight. Had it been daylight he
might have seen distinctly a wide panorama of scenery.
As he had expected to do he gazed upon the tents of an encampment of
the Federal troops. He knew well enough it was McPherson’s corps lying
in wait, undecided as yet whether to move boldly upon Reseca or to
retreat.
The forces were but a few miles away and fixing the direction in his
mind he began to look around him for some avenue of escape, knowing
that he had but a few minutes in which to act.
Peering down through the matted branches he saw that the Confederates
were listlessly waiting his movements. At the least cause for alarm
they would be active enough, though evidently they felt certain of
their prey.
As we have already told the pine stood near to the house, so near
in fact that Cavalry Curt had noticed that its branches touched the
building.
Particularly were they thick together and long at a point objective to
the chamber windows. Here was where the scout hoped to escape.
Without stopping to take more than a hasty survey from his lofty perch
Curt, leaving his slouched hat so it might be seen by those below,
cautiously began to descend, hugging closely to the tree.
Swiftly yet silently he retraced his course until he stood on the
branch that, reaching around the corner of the dwelling, had boldly
pushed its way through one of the windows.
Hearing nothing as yet from his enemies to alarm him, he glided out
along the branch concealed by the matted growth of boughs above and
below.
“Helloa!” called out Lieutenant Boggs, cautiously, when he was about
midway in the passage, “what do you see?”
Of course Curt made no reply--only quickened his progress knowing that
his time would soon be up.
“I say where are you?” called out Boggs a little louder, as he listened
in vain for an answer to his first call.
“Hang the fool! why don’t he speak!” muttered the officer. Then louder
than before he called out:
“Are you going to keep us here all night? Come down at once.”
At this moment Curt’s hand touched the window-sill, when with the
agility of a cat he noiselessly drew himself forward allowing the
branch to sway back to its normal position as gently as possible.
Still the Confederate received no reply to his appeal and he began to
grow first uneasy, then furious.
“He is clean, clear to the top,” declared one of his followers, “I can
just see his head between the branches. P’raps he don’t hear you, for
he don’t move.”
“I’ll send a chunk of lead up there if he don’t stir pretty soon,”
growled Boggs. “Reckon that’ll fetch him.”
The night seemed unusually quiet, and not a sound followed his words.
Curt had gained the house and stood within its walls.
“Look here, you infernal Yank!” called out Boggs louder than before,
“if you don’t come down we’ll riddle you with bullets! We have waited
long enough and its time for you to know that your game is up!”
Of course he received no reply and he stamped the ground madly,
regardless of the danger he was courting, forgetting that he might have
enemies within hearing.
“He don’t move,” whispered the soldier. “Shall I fire at him?”
“Curses upon our stupidity, no. It would wake up the whole army of
Yanks. Let me speak to the dog once more!”
Again he called out to the scout with, as might be expected, no better
result.
“One of you must go up there,” said Lieutenant Boggs. “Who will do it?”
Not one of the little group volunteered to do so.
“He’s a desperate chap,” ventured one; “and as he’s above he’s going to
have us at a disadvantage. I don’t care to tackle him alone, I allow.”
“Bah!” retorted Boggs, “you are a coward.”
He shirked the undertaking himself, however.
“Perhaps it would be safer for three to go up,” he said a minute later.
“Can the dog have mistrusted our plan?”
“Hark! what was that?” exclaimed one of the soldiers as a loud crash
from within the house broke the stillness of the night.