# The Red Mist/Chapter 32

CHAPTER XXXII
WITH NATURE'S WEAPON
TO THE right of where I lay was the outline of the church, the windows alight, several blazing torches, bobbing about within, revealing passing figures, although the distance was too great to permit any sound of voices reaching my ears. The rear door, however, stood wide open, and a considerable body of men were grouped there. Straight across from me, a squad of horsemen were moving northward, and a single rider was spurring rapidly between them and the church. The grove of trees where I was to meet Nichols and Noreen was to the left. It was dark and silent, a shapeless shadow, and the forest growth of the ravine extended far enough over the crest to hide my approach. Satisfied that no searching parties were near by, I advanced swiftly along the edge of this fringe of trees, yet taking every precaution. 'Twas well I did, for suddenly the horseman swerved, and rode straight toward me, through the moonlight. I sank down into the brush, revolver in hand, and waited. Once he stopped, and called out something; then came on ​along the edge of the wood, walking his horse slowly. The rider was not a soldier, but beyond that fact, evidenced by lack of uniform, I could make no guess as to his identity, although I believed him one of Cowan's guerrillas. A gun, poised and ready, forked out beside his horse's neck, and he leaned forward in the saddle, peering into the shadows. A few feet beyond me, he suddenly reined in his horse, and called again:
"That you, Lieutenant?"
A single figure seemed to emerge from among the trees—a mere shadow, formless and silent.
"Yes; who are you?"
"Kelly—Dean told me you were here; the damn fellow has got away, and the gurl with him."
"How do you know?"
"We've looked over every dead body, the wounded and prisoners, and searched every inch of the church—they're not thar, sir."
"By God! where could they have gone! They were there; he was anyhow, for I heard his voice. Did you talk with any of those living?"
"Thar ain't many ter talk ter. The Reb lefttenant is a goin' ter pull thro', I reckon, but he's hurt too bad ter talk. Enyhow Fox wouldn't give me no chance fer ter git nigh him. I asked a sojer, a young feller, an' he sed Wyatt an' the gurl wus both in ​thar; he seed 'em tergether just afore we charged. But I'll be damned, if they're thar now."
Raymond muttered something, a smothered oath no doubt, and then burst forth:
"Well, good God, man! They are both flesh and blood. If neither are there then they must have found a way of escape. We had every side of the church guarded so a mouse couldn't get through in this moonlight—I saw to that myself."
"There were no guards on the east."
"Because there was no room to post any. The church walls are on the edge of the ravine; Cowan said there were none needed there."
"Wal," insisted the other, half angrily. "I didn't think so neither, no mor'n Anse did; but I reckon that's whar we made a mistake. Them two's skedaddled, an' thar warn't no chance fer 'em enywhar else. Thet's plan 'nough, ain't it I don't know nuthin' 'bout whut's thar, fur I never ain't been 'long thet edge, but if them two ever got out inter thet thar ravine they're thar yet, fer thar's no way leading out 'cept along ther trail yonder."
"What trail? Where?"
"Back thar, 'bout a hundred feet, I reckon—an ol' hog trail thet leads down ter the crick. Thar couldn't nobody cum up it without yer seein' 'em from here."
​"And so you think they're down there yet?"
"Sure; less they got wings they couldn't a come up no other way."
The lieutenant strode forward, and grasped the rein of the horse. I could see him clearly now, the moolight on his upturned face.
"Then we've got them, all right," he asserted, a new confidence in his voice. "You know the way down, don't you, Kelly?"
"Hell, yes; I hid out thar fer six weeks onct. They call it the Devil's Glen, an', I reckon tain't a bad name neither."
"All right then; I've got three men here who'll go with you. That will be enough. I'll stay up here, so if the fellow slips by I'll nab him. Jones—all of you come here. Come, Kelly, there's a hundred dollars in this for you."
"By God! it's worth it, fer somebody's liable ter get shot." He rolled out of the saddle, but with evident reluctance. "I reckon I'll let one o' them sojers go ahead. Yer must want thet Reb powerful bad, Leftenant?"
"I do," grimly, "dead or alive."
Three other figures joined them; they were on foot, but I could see the guns in their hands, and the gleam of buttons in the moonlight. Raymond spoke swiftly, pointing with one hand, but his voice ​was lowered so the words did not reach me. No doubt he was briefly explaining the plan, and giving orders. Kelly added a gruff sentence, and then the whole five tramped past me, the lieutenant leading the horse, and Kelly coming so close to where I lay I could have touched him with an extended hand. Scarcely venturing to breathe I watched their passage along the edge of the bluff, until they halted at the point where I had come up the trail. They remained grouped there for a moment, talking earnestly; then the shadow formed disintegrated, and Raymond and the horse alone remained distinguishable. I knew the others had disappeared in the blackness of the ravine, and that they were destined to search its depths in vain, for what little trail I might have left in my crawl upward could never be deciphered in that darkness. I waited motionless for what I believed to be ten minutes, anxious that the fellows get far enough down to be safely beyond earshot. At first I could hear them slipping and stumbling along the steep, stony path, but these sounds grew fainter and finally ceased. The lieutenant led the horse back a few yards, and fastened his rein securely to the limb of a tree; then took his own position within the brush shadow, where he could watch the head of the trail. From where I crouched I could no longer see the fellow.
​I had no thought of going on, and leaving him there on guard. Not only did I feel an overwhelming desire to punish the man for his treachery and insolence, but I wished to gain possession of the horse. Such an opportunity as this was the gift of God, and I was only too eager to accept it. The wide plain in front of us was deserted, the cavalry troop having disappeared. The glare of torches had disappeared from within the church, which was now a mere shapeless shadow in the moonlight. My vision did not extend to the road in front, but there were sounds indicating that the Federal forces were either going into camp, or preparing to resume their march. Satisfied that my own way was clear, I crawled out to the edge of the line of brush; and arose silently to my feet. To reach Raymond I would have to pass where the horse was tied, and to approach on hands and knees would be liable to frighten the animal. Trusting that the lieutenant's whole attention would be devoted to the trail, and that he would anticipate no approach from behind, I walked straight forward, and laid hand on the horse's head. He smelt of me curiously, but made no noise, and, looking across his back, I could dimly perceive the man a few paces beyond. He stood erect, his back toward me, perfectly motionless, his entire consciousness concentrated on his guard. I stole forward step ​by step, noiselessly. I was actually within reach of him, before some sense told him of my near presence, and he wheeled about only to find a leveled revolver staring him in the eyes.
"We meet again," I said coldly, "and it seems to be my luck to hold the cards."
"You! Good God! I thought—"
"I know what you thought, for I was within ten feet of you when you talked with Kelly. Put up your hands, Raymond! Yes, of course, but don't attempt any play—I only need an excuse to hurt you."
He glared at me savagely, yet his hands went up, although I could see him glance backward over one shoulder into the darkness of the ravine.
"You might make the jump," I said, drawing a revolver from his belt, "but to my best judgment there is a hundred foot sheer drop right here, and it would damage you some to take it. See," and I tossed the weapon over the edge, and we heard the sound as it struck on the rocks below. "I guess you'll not try that trick. And so you want me so badly you offer a reward, dead or alive? Isn't it rather my wife you want?"
"I don't believe she is your wife."
"Not after she gave you her word! That is hardly complimentary to the lady, Lieutenant. ​However I haven't any reason to be jealous of you—Noreen knows you too well by this time; you proved yourself a treacherous cur in Lewisburg. Now turn around!"
There was no other weapon in his belt, and it never occurred to me that he might possess another secreted in his jacket; nor did I realize the desperate hatred of me which gave him reckless courage. What to do with the fellow obsessed my mind; I possessed nothing to securely bind him with; I could not leave him free, nor had I any desire to take him along with me. He settled the problem himself. Suddenly, his arms above his head, his eyes on mine, he kicked viciously, the heavy shoe striking my wrist, sending the revolver I held spinning into the grass a dozen feet away. With almost the same movement he was tugging at his jacket pocket. I saw the gleam of steel, and gripped his fingers just in time; my other hand, numbed by the blow dealt me, was, for the instant, useless, yet I struck him with my elbow full in the face. I had no grip that would hold, yet it tangled the revolver in the folds of cloth so he could not draw, and, with a snarl of baffled rage, he tore his fingers loose, and clutched at my throat with both hands. Back and forth we swayed on the very edge of the ravine, kept from plunging down into the black depths by the intervening fringe ​of trees, savagely contending for the mastery. That he was a trained athlete, acquainted with every wrestler's trick, I knew in a moment, yet this gave me little fear—for this was to be a fight, no wrestling game. Strong, quick, agile as the man was, I never doubted I was his match, and, as I felt strength come back into my numbed hand, and realized that I could clinch it again, I felt coldly confident. Once, twice, I drove my knuckles into his exposed face, compelling him to loosen grip, and throw up his hands in protection. And then I had him; not that he was devoid of skill as a boxer—sooth he possessed tricks of defense unknown to me—but his was the professional knowledge of the West Point gym, while I had graduated from the rough school of the camp; where he had trained for points, for fancy milling, I had fought to win against desperate opponents. The difference told, for I beat him down, caring nothing for what blows reached me, so that I smashed in through his guard, and landed. Again and again I feinted with my right, and drove my left straight to the exposed jaws. I gave him no time to cry out, to even catch a full breath. There was no sound to be heard a hundred feet away. I became a machine, grimly determined, a desire to punish throbbing in my veins. He fought cat-like and foul, but I only laughed, and angered him. I drove ​him out into the open where I could see better. I was fighting now, with no thought of protecting myself, only of hurting him. I tried for a knock-out but he blocked me, clinging desperately to my arm. I tore loose once more, flinging him aside bewildered and breathless.
"Now, Raymond," I said, "that trick doesn't work a second time. Stand up to it, you coward! You wanted a fight, and you are going to have one. What! the gun again? I guess not."
He had jerked it out before I reached him, but my hand closed over his—the hammer fell, digging into the flesh of my thumb, and the pain maddened me; he staggered back from the impetus of my body, and I tore loose, the iron still imbedded in my flesh, and struck him. The pearl handle crashed to the side of his head, tearing my hand in jagged wound, but he went over, dropping to the grass as if dead. He gave no moan, no sound; for an instant his limbs twitched, and then he lay there, curled into a ball. I stared down at him, panting, scarcely realizing just what had occurred. An instant before he had been fighting like a tiger cat, now he was a motionless, grotesque shadow. Blood streamed from my lacerated hand, and I bound up the wound in a neckerchief stripped from around my throat, hardly conscious of the pain, my breath steadying, ​my muscles growing tense. Then I bent down, and straightened the man out, upturning his face to the moon. He was not dead—there was a beat to his pulse; but the gash on his head was an ugly one; he would have a scar there while he lived. He lay like a dead man, his face ghastly, his thin lips drawn back from his teeth, and seemingly breathless. But for that faint, barely perceptible throb of the pulse, I would have thought him killed.
And now what? Kelly, and his followers, would not be gone long exploring the depths of the ravine—an hour at most would take them over every inch of it. We must have more of a start than that. There were troops yonder. Fox would never worry over the disappearance of Raymond, but Moran might; and he was in command. There was a squad of horsemen out there now, beyond the corner of the church, and riding southward—they might be in search of the missing lieutenant and his three troopers. I dare not leave the fellow where he was to recover consciousness, and give an alarm, or be discovered by others. There were two things possible to do—to roll the body into the ravine, or bear it with me. The first would be murder; the second a tax upon my physical strength which I might not withstand. Yet there was no other way, but to try the experiment.
​I tossed the discarded revolver into the bushes, and struggled with the limp body until I was able to rise to my feet with the unconscious man dangling across my shoulder. He was of good girth and weight, but I succeeded in staggering the few yards necessary with the burden, and then hoisted him across the saddle, head and heels dangling. The horse snorted and circled to get away, frightened at his unusual burden, but I soothed the animal, and finally he sniffed at the man's legs, and stood still.