The Smoky Hill and Republican union. [volume] (Junction City, Kan.) 1861-1864, 1861-09-19
WAR SKETCHES ADVENTURE
OF A SPY.
BY A NORTHERN RANGER.

but my exact whereabouts in that region,
for obvious reasons, it would not be polite
to state. Suspected Of being Northerner,
it was often to my advantage to court
obscurity. Known as spy, short
shift" and ready rope would have pre-
vented the blot.ing of this paper. Hang
ing, disguised, on the outskirts Of a camp,
mixing with its idlers, laughing at their
jokes, examining their arms. counting their
numbers, endeavoring to discover the plans
of their leaders, listening to this party and
pursuing that, joining in the chorus of a
rebel song, betting on rebel success, ours
ing abolitionism, reviling Lincoln, traduc-
ing Scott, extolling Beauregard. despising
Northern fighters, laughing at their tactics
and sneering at their weapons, praisipg
the beauty of Southern bellies and decrying
that of Northern, calling New York a den
of cut.throats, and New Orleans paradise
of immaculate chivalry, is but small
portion of my profession as spy. This
may not seem honorable or desirable. As
to the honor, let the country that benefits
by the investigations and warnings of the
spy be judge; and the danger, often in
CURED, is more serious and personal than
that of the battlefield, which may, per-
haps, detract from its desirability.
1t was dark night. Not star on the
glimmer. I had collected my quotum of
intelligence, and was on the move for the
Northern lines. was approaching the
banks of a stream whose waters [ had to
cross, and had then some miles to traverse
before l could reach the pickets of our
gallant troops. A feeling of uneasiness
began to creep over me; / was on the
outskirts of a wood fringing the dark
waters at my feet, whose presence could
scarcely be detected but for their sullen
murmurs as they rushed through the
gloom. The wind sighed in gentle accord
ance. l walked forty or fifty yards along
the bank. then crept on all-fours along
the ground and CROPPED with my hands,
paused-I CROPPED again-my breath thick
ened, perspiration oozed from me at every
pore, and l was Frustrated with horror
I had missed my landmark, and knew not
where l was. Below or above, beneath
the shelter of the bank, lay the skiff had
hidden, ten days before, when l com
menced my operations among the followers
of JEFF. Davis.
AS 1 stood gasping for breath, with all
the unmistakeable proofs Of my calling
about me, the sudden cry of a bird or
piuDging of fish would &C. like magnet
ism On my frame. not wont to shudder at
shadow. No matter how pressing the
danger may be, if man sees an opening
for escape he breathes with freedom. But
let him be surrounded by darkness i'm
penetrable at two yards distance, within
rifles length of concealed foes, for what
knowledge he has to the contrary; know
ing too with painful accuracy, the detec-
ton of his presence would reward him
with sudden and violent death, and if he
Lreathes no faster and feels his limbs as
free and his spirits as light as when taking
favori:e promenade, he is more fitted for
a hero than am.
In the agony of that moment-in the
sudden and utter heplessn,ss l felt to
discover my true beariugs--I was about
to let myself gently into the stream and
breast its current, for life and death.
There was no alternative. The Northern
lines must be reached in safety before the
morning broke, or should swing between
heaven and earth from some green limb of
the black forest in which / stood.
At that moment the low, sullen bay ofc
a bloodhound struck my ear. The sound
was reviving; the fearful stiffness broken.
The uncertain dread few before the certain
danger. was standing to my middle in
the shallow bed of the river, just beneath
the jutting banks. After the pause of
few seconds, l began to creep, mechanically
and stealthily, down the stream, followed,
as | knew from the rustling of the grass
and frequent breaking of twigs, by the
Unsuitable brute; although, by certain un-
easy growls, felt assured he was at fault.
Something struck against my breast. l
could not prevent a cry from escaping me
as stretching out my hands l grasped the
gunwale of a boat moored beneath the
bank. Between surprise and joy l felt
half choked. In an instant l scrambled
on board, and began searching for the
painter in the bow, in order to cast her
from her fastenings.
Suddenly bright ray of moonlig CHIT
the FIRST CLEAN of hope in that black night
Jay directly on the spot, revealing the
silver stream, my own skiff, (hidden there
ten days before,) lighting the deep shad-
ows of the verging wood, and on the log
half buried in the bank, and from which
/ had that instant cast the liue which had
bound me to it, the supple form of the
croucEing bloodhound, his red eyes CLEAN
ing in the moonlight, jaws distended and
posing for the spring. With one dart the
light skif was yards out in the stream, and