victory, overwhelming and complete, had been won, but general thomas could not follow into the deep mountains where his army might be cut off. so he remained where he was for a little while and on the second day he sent for dick.
the general was seated alone in a tent, an open end of which faced a fire, as it was now extremely cold. general thomas had shown no undue elation over his victory. he was as silent as ever, and now, as always, he made upon dick the impression of strength and indomitable courage.
“sit down,” he said, waving his hand toward a camp stool.
dick, after saluting, sat down in silence.
“i hear,” said the general, “that you behaved very well in the battle, and that you are a lad of courage and intelligence. courage is common, intelligence, real intelligence, is rare. you were at bull run also, so i hear.”
“i was, and the army fought well there too, but late in the day it was seized with a sudden panic.”
“something that may happen at any time to raw troops. but we'll pass to the question in hand. the campaign here in the mountains is ended for this winter, but great matters are afoot further west. a courier arrived last night stating that general grant and commodore foote were preparing to advance by water from cairo, illinois, and attempt the reduction of the confederate forts on the cumberland and tennessee. general buell, one of your own kentuckians, is advancing southward with a strong union force, and in a few days his outposts will be on green river. it will be of great advantage to buell to know that the confederate army in the eastern part of the state is destroyed. he can advance with freedom and, on the other hand, the southern leader, albert sidney johnston, will be compelled to throw a portion of his force to the eastward to protect his flank which has been uncovered by our victory at mill spring. do you understand?”
“i do, sir.”
“then you are to carry dispatches of the utmost importance from me to general buell. after you reach his camp—if you reach it—you will, of course, be subject to his orders. i have learned that you know the country well between here and green river. because of that, and because of your intelligence, real intelligence, i mean, you are chosen for this task. you are to change to citizen's clothes at once, and a horse of great power and endurance has been selected for you. but you must use all your faculties all the time. i warn you that the journey is full of danger.”
“i can carry it out,” replied dick with quiet confidence, “and i thank you for choosing me.”
“i believe you will succeed,” said the general, who liked his tone. “return here in an hour with all your preparations made, and i will give you the dispatches.”
warner was filled with envy that his comrade was to go on a secret mission of great importance, but he generously wished him a full measure of success.
“remember,” he said, “that on an errand like yours, presence of mind counts for at least fifty per cent. have a quick tongue. always be ready with a tale that looks true.”
“an' remember, too,” said sergeant whitley, “that however tight a place you get into you can get into one tighter. think of that and it will encourage you to pull right out of the hole.”
the two wrung his hand and major hertford also gave him his warmest wishes. the horse chosen for him was a bay of tremendous power, and dick knew that he would serve him well. he carried double blankets strapped to the saddle, pistols in holsters with another in his belt, an abundance of ammunition, and food for several days in his saddle bags. then he returned to general thomas, who handed him a thin strip of tissue paper.
“it is written in indelible ink,” he said, “and it contains a statement of our forces and their positions here in the eastern part of the state. it also tells general buell what reinforcements he can expect. if you are in imminent danger of capture destroy the paper, but to provide for such a chance, in case you escape afterward, i will read the dispatches to you.”
he read them over several times and then questioned dick. but the boy's memory was good. in fact, every word of the dispatches was burnt into his brain, and nothing could make him forget them.
“and now, my lad,” said general thomas, giving him his hand, “you may help us greatly. i would not send a boy upon such an errand, but the demands of war are terrible and must be obeyed.”
the strong grasp of the general's hand imparted fresh enthusiasm to dick, and for the present he did not have the slightest doubt that he would get safely through. he wore a strong suit of home-made brown jeans, a black felt cap with ear-flaps, and high boots. the dispatch was pinned into a small inside pocket of his vest.
he rode quickly out of camp, giving the sentinels the pass word, and the head of the horse was pointed west slightly by north. the ground was now frozen and he did not have the mud to hold him back.
the horse evidently had been longing for action. such thews and sinews as his needed exercise. he stretched out his long neck, neighed joyously, and broke of his own accord into an easy canter. it was a lonely road, and dick was glad that it was so. the fewer people he met the better it was in every way for him.
he shared the vigor and spirit of his horse. his breath turned to smoke, but the cold whipped his blood into a quicker torrent. he hummed snatches of the songs that he had heard samuel jarvis sing, and went on mile after mile through the high hills toward the low hills of kentucky.
dick did not pass many people. the ancient name of his state—the dark and bloody ground—came back to him. he knew that war in one of its worst forms existed in this wild sweep of hills. here the guerillas rode, choosing their sides as suited them best, and robbing as paid them most. nor did these rough men hesitate at murder. so he rode most of the time with his hand on the butt of the pistol at his belt, and whenever he went through woods, which was most of the time, he kept a wary watch to right and to left.
the first person whom he passed was a boy riding on a sack of grain to mill. dick greeted him cheerfully and the boy with the fearlessness of youth replied in the same manner.
“any news your way?” asked dick.
“nothin' at all,” replied the boy, his eyes enlarging with excitement, “but from the way you are comin' we heard tell there was a great battle, hundreds of thousands of men on each side an' that the yankees won. is it so, mister?”
“it is true,” replied dick. “a dozen people have told me of it, but the armies were not quite so large as you heard. it is true also that the yankees won.”
“i'll tell that at the mill. it will be big news to them. an' which way be you goin', mister?” said the boy with all the frankness of the hills.
“i'm on my way to the middle part of the state. i've been looking after some land that my people own in the mountains. looks like a lonesome road, this. will i reach any house soon?”
“thar's ben trimble's three miles further on, but take my advice an' don't stop thar. ben says he ain't goin' to be troubled in these war times by visitors, an' he's likely to meet you at the door with his double-barreled shotgun.”
“i won't knock on ben's door, so he needn't take down his double-barreled shotgun. what's next beyond ben's house?”
“a half mile further on you come to hungry creek. it ain't much in the middle of summer, but right now it's full of cold water, 'nough of it to come right up to your hoss's body. you go through it keerful.”
“thank you for your good advice,” said dick. “i'll follow it, too. good-bye.”
he waved his gauntleted hand and rode on. a hundred yards further and he glanced back. the boy had stopped on the crest of a hill, and was looking at him. but dick knew that it was only the natural curiosity of the hills and he renewed his journey without apprehension.
at the appointed time he saw the stout log cabin of ben trimble by the roadside with the warm smoke rising from the chimney, but true to his word he gave ben and his shotgun no trouble, and continued straight ahead over the frozen road until he came to the banks of hungry creek. here, too, the words of the boy came true. the water was both deep and cold, and dick looked at it doubtfully.
he urged his great horse into the stream at last, and it appeared that the creek had risen somewhat since the boy had last seen it. in the middle the horse was compelled to swim, but it was no task for such a powerful animal, and dick, holding his feet high, came dry to the shore that he sought.
the road led on through high hills, covered with oak and beech and cedar and pine, all the deciduous trees bare of leaves, their boughs rustling dryly whenever the wind blew. he saw the smoke of three cabins nestling in snug coves, but it was a full three hours before he met anybody else in the road. then he saw two men riding toward him, but he could not tell much about them as they were wrapped in heavy gray shawls, and wore broad brimmed felt hats, pulled well down over their foreheads.
dick knew that he could not exercise too much caution in this debatable land, and his right hand dropped cautiously to the butt of his pistol in such a manner that it was concealed by his heavy overcoat. his left hand rested lightly on the reins as he rode forward at an even pace. but he did not fail to take careful note of the two men who were now examining him in a manner that he did not like.
dick saw that the strangers openly carried pistols in their belts, which was not of overwhelming significance in such times in such a region, but they did not have the look of mountaineers riding on peaceful business, and he reined his horse to the very edge of the road that he might pass them.
he noted with rising apprehension that they checked the pace of their horses as they approached, and that they reined to either side of the road to compel him to go between them. but he pulled his own horse out still further, and as they could not pass on both sides of him without an overt act of hostility they drew together again in the middle of the road.
“mornin' stranger,” they said together, when they were a few yards away.
“good morning,” said dick, riding straight on, without checking his speed. but one of the men drew his horse across the road and said:
“what's your hurry? it ain't friendly to ride by without passin' the time o' day.”
now at close range, dick liked their looks less than ever. they might be members of that very band of skelly's which had already made so much trouble for both sides, and he summoned all his faculties in order to meet them at any game that they might try to play.
“i've been on land business in the mountains,” he said, “and i'm anxious to get back to my home. besides the day is very cold, and the two facts deprive me of the pleasure of a long conversation with you, gentlemen. good-day.”
“wait just a little,” said the spokesman, who still kept his horse reined across the road. “these be war times an' it's important to know what a fellow is. be you for the union or are you with the secesh?”
dick was quite sure that whatever he answered they would immediately claim to be on the opposite side. then would follow robbery and perhaps murder.
“which is your side?” he asked.
“but we put the question first,” the fellow replied.
dick no longer had any doubts. the second man was drawing his horse up by the side of him, as if to seize him, while the first continued to bar the way. he was alarmed, deeply alarmed, but he lost neither his courage nor his presence of mind. luckily he had already summoned every faculty for instant action, and now he acted. he uttered a sudden shout, and raked the side of his horse with both spurs.
his horse was not only large and powerful but of a most high spirit. when he heard that shout and felt the burning slash of the spurs he made a blind but mighty leap forward. the horse of the first stranger, smitten by so great a weight, fell in the road and his rider went down with him. the enraged horse then leaped clear of both and darted forward at headlong speed.
as his horse sprang dick threw himself flat upon his neck, and the bullet that the second man fired whistled over his head. by impulse he drew his own pistol and fired back. he saw the man's pistol arm fall as if broken, and he heard a loud cry. that was a lucky shot indeed, and rising a little in his saddle he shouted again and again to the great horse that served him so well.
the gallant animal responded in full. he stretched out his long neck and the road flew fast behind him. sparks flashed from the stones where the shod hoofs struck, and dick exulting felt the cold air rush past. another shot was fired at long range, but the bullet did not strike anywhere near.
dick took only a single backward glance. he saw the two men on their horses, but drooping as if weak from hurts, and he knew that for the present at least he was safe from any hurt from them. but he allowed his horse his head for a long time, and then he gradually slowed him down. no human being was in sight now and he spoke to the noble animal soothingly.
“good old boy,” he said; “the strongest, the swiftest, the bravest, and the truest. i was sorry to make those red stripes on your sides, but it had to be done. only quickness saved us.”
the horse neighed. he was still quivering from excitement and exertion. so was dick for that matter. the men might have been robbers merely—they were at least that bad—but they might have deprived him also of his precious dispatch. he was proud of the confidence put in him by general thomas, and he meant to deserve it. it was this sense of responsibility and pride that had attuned his faculties to so high a pitch and that had made his action so swift, sudden and decisive.
but he steadied himself presently. the victory, for victory it certainly was, increased his strength and confidence. he stopped soon at a brook—they seemed to occur every mile—and bathed with cold water the red streaks his spurs had made on either side of his horse. again he spoke soothing words and regretted the necessity that had caused him to make such wounds, slight though they were.
he also bathed his own face and hands and, as it was now about noon, ate of the cold ham and bread that he carried in his knapsack, meanwhile keeping constant watch on the road over which he had come. but he did not believe that the men would pursue, and he saw no sign of them. mounting again he rode forward.
the remainder of the afternoon went by without interruption. he passed three or four people, but they were obviously natives of that region, and they asked him only innocent questions. the wintry day was short, and the twilight was soon at hand. he was riding over one of the bare ridges, when first he noticed how late the day had grown. all the sky was gray and chill and the cold sun was setting behind the western mountains. a breeze sprang up, rustling among the leafless branches, and dick shivered in the saddle. a new necessity was pressed suddenly upon him. he must find shelter for the night. even with his warm double blankets he could not sleep in the forest on such a night. besides the horse would need food.
he rode on briskly for a full hour, anxiously watching both sides of the road for a cabin or cabin smoke. by that time night had come fully, though fortunately it was clear but very cold. he saw then on the right a faint coil of smoke rising against the dusky sky and he rode straight for it.
the smoke came from a strong double cabin, standing about four hundred yards from the road, and the sight of the heavy log walls made dick all the more anxious to get inside them. the cold had grown bitter and even his horse shivered.
as he approached two yellow curs rushed forth and began to bark furiously, snapping at the horse's heels, the usual mountain welcome. but when a kick from the horse grazed the ear of one of them they kept at a respectful distance.
“hello! hello!” called dick loudly.
this also was the usual mountain notification that a guest had come, and the heavy board door of the house opened inward. a man, elderly, but dark and strong, with the high cheek bones of an indian stood in the door, the light of a fire blazing in the fireplace on the opposite side of the wall throwing him in relief. his hair was coal black, long and coarse, increasing his resemblance to an indian.
dick rode close to the door, and, without hesitation, asked for a night's shelter and food. this was his inalienable right in the hills or mountains of his state, and he would be a strange man indeed who would refuse it.
the man sharply bade the dogs be silent and they retreated behind the house, their tails drooping. then he said to dick in a tone that was not without hospitality:
“'light, stranger, an' we'll put up your horse. mandy will have supper ready by the time we finish the job.”
dick sprang down gladly, but staggered a little at first from the stiffness of his legs.
“you've rid far, stranger,” said the man, who dick knew at once had a keen eye and a keen brain, “an' you're young, too.”
“but not younger than many who have gone to the war,” replied dick. “in fact, you see many who are not older than fifteen or sixteen.”
he had spoken hastily and incautiously and he realized it at once. the man's keen gaze was turned upon him again.
“you've seen the armies, then?” he said. “mebbe you're a sojer yourself?”
“i've been in the mountains, looking after some land that belongs to my family,” said dick. “my name is mason, richard mason, and i live near pendleton, which is something like a hundred miles from here.”
he deemed it best to give his right name, as it would have no significance there.
“you must have seen armies,” persisted the man, “or you wouldn't hev knowed 'bout so many boys of fifteen or sixteen bein' in them.”
“i saw both the federal and confederate armies in eastern kentucky. my business took me near them, but i was always glad to get away from them, too.”
“i heard tell today that there was a big battle.”
“you heard right. it was fought near a little place called mill spring, and resulted in a complete victory for the northern forces under general thomas.”
“that was what i heard. it will be good news to some, an' bad news to others. 'pears to me, mr. mason, that you can't fight a battle that will suit everybody.”
“i never heard of one that did.”
“an' never will, i reckon. mighty good hoss that you're ridin'. i never seed one with better shoulders. my name's leffingwell, seth leffingwell, an' i live here alone, 'ceptin' my old woman, mandy. all we ask of people is to let us be. lots of us in the mountain feel that way. let them lowlanders shoot one another up ez long ez they please, but up here there ain't no slaves, an' there ain't nothin' else to fight about.”
the stable was a good one, better than usual in that country. dick saw stalls for four horses, but no horses. they put his own horse in one of the stalls, and gave him corn and hay. then they walked back to the house, and entered a large room, where a stalwart woman of middle age had just finished cooking supper.
“whew, but the night's goin' to be cold,” said leffingwell, as he shut the door behind them, and cut off an icy blast. “it'll make the fire an' supper all the better. we're just plain mountain people, but you're welcome to the best we have. ma, this is mr. mason, who has been on lan' business in the mountains, an' is back on his way to his home at pendleton.”
leffingwell's wife, a powerful woman, as large as her husband, and with a pleasant face, gave dick a large hand and a friendly grasp.
“it's a good night to be indoors,” she said. “supper's ready, seth. will you an' the stranger set?”
she had placed the pine table in the middle of the room, and dick noticed that it was large enough for five or six persons. he put his saddle bags and blankets in a corner and he and the man drew up chairs.
he had seldom beheld a more cheerful scene. in a great fireplace ten feet wide big logs roared and crackled. corn cakes, vegetables, and two kinds of meat were cooking over the coals and a great pot of coffee boiled and bubbled. no candles had been lighted, but they were not needed. the flames gave sufficient illumination.
“set, young man,” said leffingwell heartily, “an' see who's teeth are sharper, yourn or mine.”
dick sat down gladly, and they fell to. the woman alternately waited on them and ate with them. for a time the two masculine human beings ate and drank with so much vigor that there was no time for talk. leffingwell was the first to break silence.
“i kin see you growin',” he said.
“growing?”
“yes, growin', you're eatin' so much, you're enjoyin' it so much, an' you're digestin' it so fast. you are already taller than you was when you set, an' you're broader 'cross the chest. no, 'tain't wuth while to 'pologize. you've got a right to be hungry, an' you mustn't forget ma's cookin' either. she's never had her beat in all these mountains.”
“shut up, seth,” said mrs. leffingwell, genially, “you'll make the young stranger think you're plum' foolish, which won't be wide of the mark either.”
“i'm grateful,” said dick falling into the spirit of it, “but what pains me, mrs. leffingwell, is the fact that mr. leffingwell will only nibble at your food. i don't understand it, as he looks like a healthy man.”
“'twouldn't do for me to be too hearty,” said leffingwell, “or i'd keep mandy here cookin' all the time.”
they seemed pleasant people to dick, good, honest mountain types, and he was glad that he had found their house. the room in which they sat was large, apparently used for all purposes, kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, and bedroom. an old-fashioned squirrel rifle lay on hooks projecting from the wall, but there was no other sign of a weapon. there was a bed at one end of the room and another at the other, which could be hidden by a rough woolen curtain running on a cord. dick surmised that this bed would be assigned to him.
their appetites grew lax and finally ceased. then leffingwell yawned and stretched his arms.
“stranger,” he said, “we rise early an' go to bed early in these parts. thar ain't nothin' to keep us up in the evenin's, an' as you've had a hard, long ride i guess you're just achin' fur sleep.”
dick, although he had been unwilling to say so, was in fact very sleepy. the heavy supper and the heat of the room pulled so hard on his eyelids that he could scarcely keep them up. he murmured his excuses and said he believed he would like to retire.
“don't you be bashful about sayin' so,” exclaimed leffingwell heartily, “'cause i don't think i could keep up more'n a half hour longer.”
mrs. leffingwell drew the curtain shutting off one bed and a small space around it. dick, used to primitive customs, said good-night and retired within his alcove, taking his saddle bags. there was a small window near the foot of the room, and when he noticed it he resolved to let in a little air later on. the mountaineers liked hot rooms all the time, but he did not. this window contained no glass, but was closed with a broad shutter.
the boy undressed and got into bed, placing his saddle bags on the foot of it, and the pistol that he carried in his belt under his head. he fell asleep almost immediately and had he been asked beforehand he would have said that nothing could awake him before morning. nevertheless he awoke before midnight, and it was a very slight thing that caused him to come out of sleep. despite the languor produced by food and heat a certain nervous apprehension had been at work in the boy's mind, and it followed him into the unknown regions of sleep. his body was dead for a time and his mind too, but this nervous power worked on, almost independently of him. it had noted the sound of voices nearby, and awakened him, as if he had been shaken by a rough hand.
he sat up in his bed and became conscious of a hot and aching head. then he remembered the window, and softly drawing two pegs that fastened it in order that he might not awaken his good hosts, he opened it inward a few inches.
the cold air poured in at the crevice and felt like heaven on his face. his temples quit throbbing and his head ceased to ache. he had not noticed at first the cause that really awakened him, but as he settled back into bed, grateful for the fresh air, the same mysterious power gave him a second warning signal.
he heard the hum of voices and sat up again. it was merely the leffingwells in the bed at the far end of the room, talking! perhaps he had not been asleep more than an hour, and it was natural that they should lie awake a while, talking about the coming of this young stranger or any other event of the day that interested them. then he caught a tone or an inflection that he did not remember to have been used by either of the leffingwells. a third signal of alarm was promptly registered on his brain.
he leaned from the bed and pulling aside the curtain a half an inch or so, looked into the room. the fire had died down except a few coals which cast but a faint light. yet it was sufficient to show dick that the two leffingwells had not gone to bed. they were sitting fully clothed before the fireplace, and three other persons were with them.
as dick stared his eyes grew more used to the half dusk and he saw clearly. the three strangers were young men, all armed heavily, and the resemblance of two of them to the leffingwells was so striking that he had no doubt they were their sons. now he understood about those empty stalls. the third man, who had been sitting with his shoulder toward dick, turned his face presently, and the boy with difficulty repressed an exclamation. it was the one who had reined his horse across the road to stop him. a fourth and conclusive signal of alarm was registered upon his brain.
he began to dress rapidly and without noise. meanwhile he listened intently and could hear the words they spoke. the woman was pleading with them to let him go. he was only a harmless lad, and while these were dark days, a crime committed now might yet be punished.
“a harmless boy,” said the strange man. “he's quick, an' strong enough, i tell you. you should have seen how he rode me down, and then shot garmon in the arm.”
“i'd like to have that hoss of his,” said the elder leffingwell. “he's the finest brute i ever laid eyes on. sech power an' sech action. i noticed him at once, when mason come ridin' up. s'pose we jest take the hoss and send the boy on.”
“a hoss like that would be knowed,” protested the woman. “what if sojers come lookin' fur him!”
“we could run him off in the hills an' keep him there a while,” said leffingwell. “i know places where sojers wouldn't find that hoss in a thousand years. what do you say to that, kerins?”
“good as fur as it goes,” replied kerins, “but it don't go fur enough by a long shot. the yanks whipped the johnnies in a big battle at mill spring. me an' my pardners have been hangin' 'roun' in the woods, seein' what would happen. now, we know that this boy rode straight from the tent of general thomas hisself. he's a union sojer, an' young as he is, he's an officer. he wouldn't be sent out by general thomas hisself 'less it was on big business. he's got messages, dispatches of some kind that are worth a heap to somebody. with all the armies gatherin' in the south an' west of the state it stands to reason that them dispatches mean a lot. now, we've got to get 'em an' get the full worth of 'em from them to whom they're worth the most.”
“he's got a pistol,” said the elder leffingwell, “i seed it in his belt. if he wakes before we grab him he'll shoot.”
the man kerins laughed.
“he'll never get a chance to shoot,” he said. “why, after all he went through today, he'll sleep like a log till mornin'.”
“that's so,” said one of the young leffingwells, “an' kerins is right. we ought to grab them dispatches. likely in one way or another we kin git a heap fur 'em.”
“shut up, jim, you fool,” said his mother sharply. “do you want murder on your hands? stealin' hosses is bad enough, but if that boy has got the big dispatches you say he has, an' he's missin', don't you think that sojers will come after him? an' they'll trace him to this house, an' i tell you that in war trials don't last long. besides, he's a nice boy an' he spoke nice all the time to pap an' me.”
but her words did not seem to make any impression upon the others, except her husband, who protested again that it would be enough to take the horse. as for the dispatches it wasn't wise for them to fool with such things. but kerins insisted on going the whole route and the young leffingwells were with him.
meanwhile dick had dressed with more rapidity than ever before in his life, fully alive to the great dangers that threatened. but his fear was greatest lest he might lose the precious dispatches that he bore. for a few moments he did not know what to do. he might take his pistols and fight, but he could not fight them all with success. then that pleasant flood of cold air gave him the key.
while they were still talking he put his saddle bags over his arm, opened the shutter its full width, and dropped quietly to the ground outside, remembering to take the precaution of closing the shutter behind him, lest the sudden inrush of cold startle the leffingwells and their friends.
it was an icy night, but dick did not stop to notice it. he ran to the stable, saddled and bridled his horse in two minutes, and in another minute was flying westward over the flinty road, careless whether or not they heard the beat of his horse's hoofs.
