# My Lady of the South/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX
SCOUTING SERVICE
WE attained the east bank of Salter's Creek early in the afternoon, still riding in advance of the main body, but encountering no force of the enemy sufficient to dispute our progress. Here we were intercepted by a courier, who had crossed the river near that point, bringing information that the contemplated attack on our right flank had been abandoned, the Confederate forces being withdrawn into the hills. Evidently some form of warning had been conveyed to Johnston, but too late to permit of his advancing in strong force against our front. Despatching the fellow hurriedly to the rear, we waited for Wilson's cavalry to come up, and then crossed the stream after a fierce but brief skirmish. We had hardly attained to a strong position on the opposite bank when orders reached us to halt, but the cavalrymen thoroughly cleared the enemy out of the woods in their front, finally posting advance pickets nearly two miles to eastward of the creek. Two of the leading infantry brigades crossed that stream and went into camp, while Rosecrans established headquarters at the Denslow plantation. I reported to him there just before dark, but my only orders were to send out several men during the night to ascertain all they could of the present Confederate position.
​The next day served to clarify the situation, a series of sharp skirmishes proving the enemy to be in considerable strength to both east and south of our line, sufficiently well protected among the hills to render a direct attack impracticable. However, our flank movement had regained for us nearly all the ground lost by the defeat of three days previous, and the brigades opposite Minersville were ferried across the river and posted at our extreme right. Gaps in the line were filled, and the various commands immediately began strengthening their positions by entrenching. While these details were being arranged, a minor affair occurred in our rear proving much more momentous to me than would a battle. Guerillas had suddenly swarmed forth from the mountain lairs, swooped down upon several ill-guarded supply trains, driven off the guards from at least two, and rifled the wagons. There had been a brisk fight, but the attacking party had escaped with little loss and considerable booty. I was outside Rosecrans's headquarters when the first news of this affair arrived, followed shortly by a report that the detachment of cavalry despatched in pursuit of the raiders had been ambushed along Sand Creek, and driven back badly demoralized. It was then I was sent for.
"Lieutenant," spoke the General sharply the moment I appeared, "you know something of the country west of the ridge, and I am told Daniels knows every inch of it. I want to locate the headquarters of that gang of outlaws over there. There will be no end to this thing until we can strike them at the centre and get our hands on their leader, a fellow named Donald. There is no doubt but ​the Confederates coöperate with him in these raids, furnishing details of men, and the situation is becoming simply intolerable. Take two or three scouts with you, and discover, if possible, where he hides out, and where he obtains assistance and news as to our movements. Don't report until you obtain what you are after; but if you need help, draw on any troops required. I must have Big Donald, dead or alive. When can you start?"
"Within thirty minutes, sir."
"Better take Daniels along."
"I intend to."
"Good; if you succeed, it will mean a Captaincy for you, as this fellow has been a thorn in my side ever since we first invaded this region. You better wait on the picket line until after dark. Good-bye, lad, and luck to you."
I left his presence nervously elated. It was my first deliberate venture between the lines, and the nature of the service appealed to me. I felt no sympathy whatever for these banditti of the hills, having myself experienced their sting on more than one occasion. As a soldier, I despised their method of warfare, and would rejoice at being instrumental in driving them from the country. But there was more than mere duty in this commission—it would take me again into the vicinity of Fairview; possibly bring me once more into the very presence of Jean Denslow.
The recurring thought of her quickened my pulse and stimulated my imagination. I passed down the steps, glancing back at where we had stood together when the ​Chaplain pronounced us husband and wife, and almost dared to resolve it should yet be so in reality—the very memory of her growing more and more distinct and alluring, as I comprehended the difficulties of our position. I wondered how she would meet me again; what message of friendliness or aversion I should read in her clear beautiful eyes. Surely whatever her heart felt would instantly find frank expression there.
Still half in a dream, yet clearly comprehending the hazard of our coming night's work, I routed out both Daniels and O'Brien from beside a comfortable camp-fire, told them briefly our orders, and set them to the necessary preparations. The Irish lad was noisily jubilant, but the silent mountaineer merely tightened his grim mouth, his eyes glowing feverishly. He made me think of a tiger who felt the prey already within reach of his claws, and I locked at him with a little shiver of apprehension. Much as I despised the guerillas, yet this was to be war, not murder, and I felt a strong inclination to pick another companion for the night scout. Yet why should I? Daniels knew both the ground and the man sought; he would be of the utmost value; and I experienced no doubt as to my ability to control his bloodthirstiness if it ever came to a contest of authority. Confident in my own strength and coolness I almost hoped it might occur, so I could openly assert myself. The very look upon the man's face grated upon my nerves; it was a constant temptation to me to give him what he was evidently looking for—a touch of the steel. I cared nothing for his feud spirit,—it seemed a small thing to ​me then,—only that sort of thing was not to be brought in here; not allowed to complicate our military duties. Daniels was either going to do as I ordered, or there would be a clash.
I thought all this out swiftly while we were saddling up, my eyes observant of his every cat-like movement, yet I did not address him again until we were well out upon the ridge road, the setting sun at our backs. Then I began craftily questioning, for the better planning of our night's serious work.
"Where would you suppose, Daniels, is the best place for us to begin our search?"
"'Long Sand Crick."
"How much of a ride before wt reach that stream?"
"Wal, I reckon from all ye've said that ye've bin ter Fairview. Sand Creek heads just above thar, an' runs 'bout due east. I don' know whar Donald holds out right now, but I reckon, if we took thet ol' villain Dunn, an' held his feet in ther fire fer a while, he'd come mighty nigh showin' us ther spot."
"Are they associated?"
"Big Donald is pardner with all them fellers. He belongs ter their class, damn him. Thet's how he got ther best o' us pore fellers; thet's how he got a Confed commission; an' thet's how it's goin' to be so blame' hard ter run ther ol' fox out. He'll fight, all right, an' he kin git ther whole Reb army ter back him in a pinch."
"Is there any one down that way we could trust, or question safely?"
He shook his head, his eyes dull and expressionless.
​"I reckon not, Leftenant. Thar ain't many of ther Danielses left round yere now. an' those whut are are most likely hidin' out in ther mountings."
"There would be no use going to Fairview?"
"Hell, no! Ther ol' Jedge, o' course, can't do much, but thet son o' his, Calvert, is in with Donald hand an' glove. an' they all of ’em feel 'bout alike."
"But Miss Denslow is stopping there at present." I ventured doubtfully. "and we might gain some valuable information from her."
He drew up his horse sharply. his peculiar eyes narrowing as he stared at me.
"How long hev ye knowed this yere Miss Denslow?" he drawled.
"l merely met her once for an hour or so."
"I reckoned as much. Wal, pardner, she ain't ther sort thet tells things. Ye might scare somethin' out o' Calvert Dunn if ye got him jist right, but ye'll waste yer time on Jean Denslow."
"Why do you associate those two names?"
"'Cause they've allers bin tergether; them two families are like peas in a pod, an' it's bin common talk they was goin' ter marry up; but ter my mind ther gal is worth any dozen Dunns."
"You don’t think much of the young fellow then?"
"I reckon not; he's a cowardly brag, an' treats a pore white worse nor a nigger; but Miss Jean, why she's a real mounting gal, fit ter mate with any man. He ain't got nothin' on her people; ye kin bet yer las' dollar on thet."
There were other questions on my lips, yet I held ​them back, unwilling to permit Daniels to suspect I felt any special interest in the girl. Little by little I was beginning to comprehend I was being drawn into a feud older than the war, and more bitter, the right of which—if any right there was—was extremely doubtful; but my sympathies were more inclined toward the side of Jean Denslow than toward this grim, savage mountaineer. The duty of the night grew complicated, and I must watch closely to prevent private revenge overcoming soldierly purpose. I glanced toward O'Brien, who was riding carelessly behind, whistling merrily, one leg flung over the pommel of his saddle. He would care little what happened, so there was sufficient excitement to make his blood dance, and he had been Daniels's partner long enough to side with him in case of emergency. Now that I began dimly to understand the circumstances I wished I had chosen another man.
The sun had been down an hour when the three of us ride out beyond the picket line, heading directly across the upper portion of the narrow valley occupied by Dunn's plantation toward the range of bare hills beyond. I could perceive no evidence of a trail, but Daniels evidently knew the way in the dark, and we followed his guidance without questioning. To me this silent advance into danger was more exciting than battle; yet I was young enough, possessing sufficient of the spirit of adventure, to enjoy the exhilaration and feel glad that I was there.
Scarcely a word was spoken among us, except when Daniels halted occasionally to point out some difficulties ​in the passage, and, as the night darkened, we became mere spectres, moving slowly, the only sound the occasional stumbling of a hoof. The very silence was oppressive, causing my strained nerves to throb almost painfully, as I leaned forward, striving to keep Daniels's dim outline in view. We passed through a cleft in the hills, along a narrow rock platform, a tree branch occasionally brushing my face, and a sound of tinkling water to our right. At the second sharp turn Daniels halted and swung down from his horse.
"We'll hev ter dismount yere, Leftenant," he whispered, "an' lead ther hosses. This yere is Sand Crick."
The stream must have obtained its name from its course through the valley, for here it was a typical mountain torrent; we passed along beside its rushing waters on what appeared to be a mere shelf of rock, at least twenty feet above the surface, although occasionally the path led down to the bank of the stream. We discovered little to reward our toil; the remains of two deserted camp-fires, and an old shack, doorless and containing not a scrap of furniture. It must have been considerably after midnight when we succeeded in crossing over to the opposite bank and continued on our way. For several hours, in single file, leading our horses, we struggled slowly down the course of the stream, peering anxiously through the darkness, and pausing now and then to listen for some guiding sound. But nothing rewarded our efforts. If Big Donald had any established camp in that neighborhood, it was certainly not along the ten miles of Sand Creek which we had so thoroughly explored.
​Daylight overtook us in a little cove whence we could look forth on the narrow valley, and the earliest rays of the sun fell on the scattered buildings representing the plantation of Fairview, perhaps two miles distant. My eyes were heavy from groping so long through the night, yet, in that clear mountain air, every line assumed the distinctness of an etching. It was a noble old house, painted white, and standing somewhat elevated upon a considerable knoll, the red sun rays reflecting from every eastward window. In front, and shading the main entrance from view, stood a grove of magnificent trees, the variety of their foliage indicating a number of species. An extensive garden and orchard, with many beds of flowers, and numerous vines trained upon trellises, all protected by a heavy, trimmed hedge, extended along the eastern side, running well back even beyond the length of the main building, while to the rear were the barn and stables, all commodious, and a long row of respectable negro cabins extended along the front of a grove somewhat farther to the west. The entire scene was home-like and attractive, the main house glowing in its white paint, the other buildings equally neat, but decorated with darker colors. Evidently war had thus far passed by this isolated home, bringing to it no outward damage; even some of the negro slaves still remained at work, for I could perceive figures already moving about those distant log huts as if preparing for a day's ordinary labor. Out of the broad chimney over the kitchen ell of the great house a heavy spiral of yellow smoke was rising upward into the blue sky.
​In some way that peaceful scene came to me as a rebuke. I felt that war with its many miseries and terrors was no longer to be unknown to these quiet dwellers outside the beaten path of the armies. Already trouble was hovering near, and I was destined to be the first to bring sorrow and destruction into this peaceful valley. I stood there for some time, field glasses at my eyes, striving to fix details in my mind, and thinking not only of Jean Denslow but also of the bitter feud of which it seemed to me this old plantation house was the centre. I understood little of it all,-merely those glimpses of savage memory given me by Daniels, yet these were sufficient to make me comprehend something of that legacy of hate which for a hundred years or more had descended from father to son, and left all this mountain region bloodstained. And my duty as a soldier was now involving me in the controversy; ay, not only that, but also my peculiar relations with Jean Denslow might make me a partisan. I turned to glance toward Daniels, standing grim and silent beside me, his cold gray eyes narrowed into mere slits as he stared out also toward Fairview.
"It looks peaceful enough down there," I said finally
He turned his eyes on my face, all the disappointment of the nights useless search exhibited in his sallow countenance.
"Ther damn ol' fox will git what he deserves yet," he returned gruffly, handling his rifle, and turning his gaze back upon the house. "I reckon if they knew I was yere they would n't feel so peaceful."
"Daniels," I asked curiously, "what have you got ​against old Judge Dunn? Surely he is n't directly connected with this mountain feud?"
His lips parted showing again the gleam of yellow teeth.
"What hev I got? Did n't he hold me fer murder? An' wouldn't he hev hung me, if I hedn't got away? An' was n't thet precious son o' his with Big Jem Donald when they shot inter my cabin up at Bald Mounting? An' did n't he head ther posse that run me across ther Cumberland? Maybe ther ol' Jedge ain't in ther feud, but he's got an enemy in Bill Daniels jist ther same, an' he'll find thet out afore many more days, I reckon. In these yere mountings we go after our man, an' quite gin'rally we git what we go after."
"You don't mean to say you would kill that helpless old man in cold blood, merely because as a judge he presided at your trial?" I questioned in doubt.
"Him? He give me no show; he would n't perfect my witnesses; he was a tool o' Big Donald from ther start. I'd a come back yere long ago if thar was any o' my side left yere about with nerve 'nough to tote a rifle. We held 'em all right es long es it was a reg'lar mounting fight. I reckon we got ez many es they did, an' maybe more. But when they found they was fair licked, ther damned skunks went inter court. They had ter bring ther milishy down yere 'fore they could even git us. An' then they put us on trial fer murder—me, and Jim Daniels, an' two o' ther Farley boys. We had n't done no more'n ther other side, but ther Judge let Donald an' all his outfit testify, an' they got a jury from down ​Minersville way; they kept ther milishy yere until they hung Jim Daniels an' one o' ther Farleys. I got out o' ther Minersville jail, an' a posse chased me nigh a hundred mile. Thar wan't no use a comin' back, fer ther Donalds hed everythin' their own way 'round yere then. So I jist nat'rally waited round till ther war broke out. I sure knew ther Yanks would come marchin' inter this yere kintry some time, an' I wanted ter come 'long with 'em. Thet wud give me a better show than tryin' ter play a lone hand. Wal, I'm yere now, an' I reckon ther whole kit an' caboodle will know 'bout it afore I leave. I've got some ol' scores ter settle up yere in this kintry, an' now, by Gawd, ther ol' United States is a backin' of me."
"You mean to involve this blood feud into your duty as a soldier?"
"Wal, it seems to involve all right. Did n't cher Gin'ral send us out yere to run down Big Donald?"
"Yes, to take him prisoner as a Confederate in arms. That does not authorize any attack on Judge Dunn, or any killing except in battle."
"I reckon I kin attend to ther Dunn matter myself whin ther time comes; an' as ter Big Jim Donald, thar's nobody ever goin' ter take him prisoner. If we sight him, it will be whoever gets ther drop first. He's not ther kind yer make prisoners out 'er." He looked behind him at the rampart of rocks. "He an' his gang must be hidin' out over Bald Mounting way; thar's sure no signs of 'em along Sand Crick."
"What do you advise that we do?"
"Wal, thar's no use trampin' by daylight; we'd be ​spotted sure. I'm fer goin' inter camp yere in this hollow till after dark, an' then strikin' across ter Bald Mounting. Maybe somethin'll turn up atween now an' then. What say, Bud?"
"So I git somethin' to ate an' a slape, it's all ther same to me," agreed O'Brien, loosening the saddle girth about his horse. "'Av I work at noight I need to refresh meself wid slape in the daytoime, an' 'av I work all day, sure an' I need to slape at noight. It's one an' the same, so I git it, Liftenant. This ould cannibal has the stomach to foight all the toime, but I must have me natural rist, or else foightin' is no fun, at all, at all. Is it refreshmints an' slape we're to have now, sor?"
"Yes," I said, confident in Daniels's judgment. "Let the animals graze well back out of sight from below, and we'll gee what rest we can. I am glad you've found your tongue, O'Brien; I have n't heard you speak before, all night."
The blue eyes danced. "Sure an' the talk wus all scared out o' me, sor, be the bloodthirsty ould villain I'm chummin' wid. I thought wid ivery step we'd be into a massacre, wid a parcel o' women and chidher to be ate up. I did that, from thim things he said."
"You can rest easy on that score for a few hours, but we must content ourselves with cold rations, as it will hardly be safe to start a fire."
I was tired from the long night's tramp among the rocks, but my mind remained active, and my eyes sleepless. I lay there for an hour or more, turning restlessly, wondering how my two companions could slumber so ​soundly. Then I crept silently forth from the cleft where we were resting, to where I could gaze down again into the quiet valley. Some strange impulse drew me toward the distant house; it may have been the memory of Jean Denslow, yet I persuaded myself it was hope of learning there something of the whereabouts of this Big Donald for whom we were searching. I even drove the girl from my thoughts, striving thus to concentrate my mind more clearly upon the one important duty confronting me as a scout. There would be blacks yonder in sympathy with the Union army; and if I could gain a moment's conversation with one such, it might save us another entire night of fruitless search. Sand Creek, skirting the orchard and grapery, was sufficiently bordered by trees to offer protection almost to the cabins, and I would certainly run but little risk of discovery if I advanced that tar. The result might not be much, yet any real effort was better than lying around and accomplishing nothing.
I started off in that spirit, following the course of the stream down into the valley, at first keeping well concealed behind the banks, and later dodging carefully along under protection of trees and underbrush. Half way across the valley I came upon a well-beaten foot-path, where the narrow stream had been bridged by a sturdy log, and followed this with increased caution, as it wound in and out among the trees, and through great patches of concealing weeds. A rail fence enclosed the orchard, but the heavy, gnarled limbs of the old apple trees grew low, and concealed my movements from the house, so that I crawled through, and advanced to where ​a row of white pickets separated me from the grapery and garden. The house itself was now only a few yards away, a magnificent specimen of old-time Southern architecture, with great pillars in front, square-roofed, the long windows golden with sunshine. No movement anywhere evidenced occupancy, but I could hear distant negro voices at the rear. A trellis of grapevines ran back the entire length of the building, offering protection; thinking thus to gain view of the negroes, I leaped the pickets, and crept forward in their shadow, my heart throbbing with the excitement of the adventure. There was no sound now, only the faint stir of the leaves, as the soft air touched them, and the song of a bird somewhere overhead. The trellis curved slightly as I advanced, walking now upright behind its security, and then I came to a sudden halt, staring at the fluttering of a white skirt.