The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1872-03-19
"reminiscences of the Ranks.
by WARRINGTON,

The cold, drizzllng rain.
A figure standing behind tree as
motionless as the tree itself
a blot in the blackness, wavering
mass, namcless form in the dim ais
tance.
Away beyond the thicket that bound
the stream, fickerlng SO unsteadily
that at times the figure beside the tree
thought they were in motion, shone the
camp-fres of the enemy.
Standing there in the solitary black
ness, with the cold water drip, drip,
dripping steadily from his cap upon
the upturned collar Of his overcoat,
from the visor of the cap to the hollow
of the hand that was clenched in front
Of the musket, which was shielded from
the rain by the folds of his overcoat );
from the hand to the ground, the figure
beside the tree gradually drew up his
shoulders, shivered for the twentieth
time for the last hour, and thrust his
right hand suddenly in his pocket. and
as suddenly withdrew it with an impre-
cation, as he had done thrice within
the hour.
"I'd sooner be dead than without to-
baccer! That's the second or third
time I've fooled myself since | come on
the post" said the picket aloud.
The swapping of a twing arrested his
attention. Instantly the barrel OF his
musket fell into his left palm, as the
right hand clasped the stock, the thumb
on the hammer Of the lock.
WHO goes there?"
No answer, The rain trickled along
the bare branches of the trees over.
head, and dropped irregularly with a
faint splash on the bare ground; with
a trickling sound upon the leaves. 1t
trickled slowly down the picket's neck,
crawlcd searchingly down his back,
ran down the soaking pantaloons into
| the soaking socks, and helped swell the
spongy leather in the boots.
Stlll the picket stood there in the
attitude of man ready to attack ;
prompt to defend himself; stood there
in the drizzlipg rain as silently as
though he were chiseled from marble.
AT the end of perhaps five minutes,
maybe more, maybe less, peculiar
sound fell upon the strained ear.
Course the thing!" exclaimed the
picket, as he once more folded his mus
ket in his overcoat, and stood with his
back against the tree. If had that
fellow back in camp I'd attend to him.
If any of them shoats come within
reach of my bayonet, I'll bet my back
pay agin a chaw of tobaccer some
body'll get mess Of roast pig pretty
soon. Pesky things !"
AS he ended his soliloquy, a firm
hand grasped him by the throat with
a fiercenesS and suddenness that de-
prived him of all power His tongue
protruded, be felt his eye-balls starting
from their sockets, and his strength
forsook him utterly; and his musket
slid from his nerveless hands, and in a
moment more he was writhing upon
the ground at the mercy of his foe.
Short, sharp, decisive. No noise
no outcry; no struggle.
"Now then" said the conquerOr, as
he pressed knee on the hal fstrangled
man beneath him, "the password ?"
A faint gurgle arose from the cap.
tive's lips. He was gasping for breath,
and attempting to speak at the same
time.
Quick! the password, or you are
a dead manw
The captive looked up at his captor
defautly, wickedly.
"Not by --."
Was that an oath? Whatever il
was, it was suddenly cut short by the
hand above him. Meantime the cap
tor felt for his knife. There was a
/ fash in the dim light, and the life :
blood of the half strangled picket
welled up and flowed out upon the wet
ground.
Ten minuteo later, when the relief
came around, mutterings, growls and
curses were plenty.
"Where in the name ofthunder car
be be? He ought to be here" said
Corporal Jones. "Ricketts! I squ
J Ricktt5i Where in - are youf'