第59章

Bolton was rubbing his bruises and abrasions, and vituperating everything, from the conduct of the war to the steepness of Kentucky mountains.Aunt Debby had partially recovered from the stunning of her fall, and limped slowly up, with her long riding-skirt raised by one hand.Her lips were compressed, an her great gray eyes blazed with excitement.

They all went to the side of the road, and looked down at the crushed and bleeding mass in the creek.

"My God! that's awful," said Henry, with a rising sickness about his heart, as the excitement began subsiding.

"Plenty good enuf fur scoundrels who rob poor men of all they hev,"said Fortner fiercely, as he re-loaded his rifle."Hit's not bad enuf fur thieves an' robbers.""Hit's God's judgement on the wicked an' the opporessor," said Aunt Debby, with solemn pitilessness.

"Hadn't we better try to get down there, and help those men out?"suggested Harry."Perhaps they are not dead yet.""Aunt Debby, thet thar hoss thet's rain' his head an' whinnyin',"said Fortner, with sudden interest, "is Joel Sprigg's roan geldin', sho's yore bo'n, honey." He pointed to where a shapely head was raised, and almost human agony looked out of great liquid eyes.

"Thet wuz the finest hoss in Laurel County, an' they've stole 'im from Joel.Hit'll 'bout break his heart, fur he set a powerful sight o'store on thet there beast.Pore critter! hit makes me sick ter see 'im suffer thet-a-way! I've a mind ter put 'im outen his misery, but I'm afeered I can't shoot 'im, so long ez he looks at me with them big pitiful eyes o' his'n.They go right ter my heart.""You'd better shoot him," urged Aunt Debby."Hit's a si ter let an innocent critter suffer thet-a-way."Fortner raised his rifle, and sent a bullet through the mangled brute's brain.

Aunt Debby's eyes became fixed on a point where, a mile away down the mountain, a bend in the road was visible through an opening in the trees.

"Look out," she said, as the echoes of the shot died away, "thar comes a hull lot on 'em."They looked and saw plainly a large squad of cavalry, with a wagon behind.

"We must get outen heah, an' thet quick," said Fortner decisively.

He caught one of the horses and shortened a stirrup to make the sadle answer for a side-saddle."Heah, Aunt Debby, let me help ye up, honey.Now Bolton and Edwards, I'll help ye on these ere other critters.Now skeet out ez fast ez the hosse's legs will tote ye.Don't spar 'em a mite.Them fellers'll gin ye to the devil's own chase ez soon ez they get heah, an' see what's bin done.Glen and me'll go acrost the mounting, an' head 'em off on t'other side.Don't come back ef ye heah shootin', but keep straight on, fur we kin take keer o' this crowd without enny help.glen, you sasshay up the mounting thar ez fast ez the Lord'll let ye.

I'll be arter ye right spry."

All sped away as directed.Fortner had been loading his gun while speaking.He now rammed the bullet home, and withdrawing his rammer walked over to the cliff beside which the teamster was cowering.

"O, Mister Fortner, don't kill me--please don't!" whined the luckless man, getting awkwardly upon his knees and raising his hands imploringly."I swar ter God I'll never raise a hand agin a Union man agin ef ye'll only spar my life.""Kill ye, Pete Hoskins!" said Fortner with unfathomable contempt.

"What consete ye hev ter think yer wuth the powder an' lead.Ihain't no bullets ter waste on carr'on."

He struck the abject fellow a couple of stinging blows on the face with the ramrod, replaced it in the thimbles, and sprang up the rocks just as the head of the cavalry appeared around the bend of the road a few rods away.

Overtaking Harry shortly, he heard about the same time the Rebels on the road below strike into a trot.

"They know hit all now," he said, "an' hev started in chase.Let's jog on lively, an' get ter whar we kin head 'em off."Night had fallen in the meantime, but the full moon had risen immediately, making it almost as light as day.

After half an hour's fast walking, the two Unionists had cut across the long horseshoe around which the Rebels were traveling, and had come down much ahead of them on the other side of the mountain, and just where the road led up the steep ascent of another mountain.

There was a loneliness about the spot that was terrible.Over it hung the "thought and deadly feel of solitude." The only break for miles in the primeval forest was that made for the narrow road.

House or cabin there was none in all the gloomy reaches of rocks and gnarled trees.It was too inhospitable a region to tempt even the wildest squatter.

The flood of moonlight made the desolation more oppresive than ever, by making palpable and suggestive the inky abysses under the trees and in the thickets.

Fortner looked up the road to his right and listened intently.

A waterfall mumbled somewhere in the neighborhood.The pines and hemlocks near the summit sighed drearily.A gray fox, which had probably just supped off a pheasant, sat on a log and barked out his gluttonous satisfaction.A wildcat, as yet superless, screamed its envy from a cliff a half a mile away.

"I can't heah anything of Aunt Debby an' the others," said Fortner, at length; "so I reckon they're clean over the mounting, an' bout safe by this time.Them beasts are purty good travelers, I imagine, an' they hain't let no grass grow in under the'r hufs.""But the Rebels are coming, hand over hand," said Harry, who had been watching to the left and listening."I hear them quite plainly.

Yes, there they are," he continued, as two or three galloped around a turn in the road, followed at a little interval by others.

The metallic clang of the rapid hoof-beats on the rocks rang through the somber aisles of the forest.Noisy fox and aniphonal wildcat stopped to listen to this invasion of sound.

"Quick! let's get in cover," said Fortner.