The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1889-09-18

NV horse and ride about the
~TSt4S camp for exercise. He hoped
soon to get himself into fighting trim
again. He was a jealous, courageous
young soldier, and he could not endure
with patience his enforced inactivity.
Hearing that excellent wild fruit
abounded in the woods about one mile
and a half from the Federal camp,
Hartwell determined to ride over and
enjoy delicious treat.
While riding leisurely along through
O large canebrake, midway between
the camp and the woods 10 which he
was bound, he was surprised and cap
tured by band of rough guerrillas
who had been accommodating the enc
my's position from a safe distance.
The Union spies had reported only
that morning that there were no enc,
mics within ten miles of their own
lines.
So Hartwell had ridden off alone.
never dreaming OF what was to befall
him. He had been riding carelessly
along, inadvertently whistling some
little tune heard at camp, and think
ing of the dear old mother far away in
her cabin on the Kansas line.
Suddenly his horse was stopped, his
arms were pinioned to his sides by
brawny hands, while tillainous. hard
ened countenances leered upon him.
Don't yer chip nary word. or by tier
holy smokin' powers o. t'other world
I'll send a bullet clean through yer
burned Yankee carcass" said one TO
bust guerrilla, holding an old musket
threateningly near the captive's hand
some head.
Hartwell was too completely sur
prised to frame an answer. The guer-
rillas surged about him wild with glee
over their great capture. A Yankee
officer was not picked up every day
Their rejoicing, uncouth and profane,
rendered them for n short time in
cautious. The tramp, tramp of COM
ing horsemen threw the jubilant band
Of four guerrillas into considerable ex-
element. In n moment every man
was quiet and on his guard. Instinc
lively, each rough fellow sought
musket or carbine, the rihed property
Of some dead soldier.
Every eye was turned in the direc-
ton of the approaching riders. That
there were not more than two or three
could easily be told from the sounds
that the horses feet made on the hard
claybaked road by the canes.
Lieutenant Hartwell was for the mo-
ment forgotten. Were those riders
weare"s of the blue or the gray? The
tall, dense, Intervening canes prevent
ed an answer to that mute question.
Three guerrillas had stationed them
selves behind clumps of vegetation,
while the fourth held Hartwells horse
with his left hand, his right grasping a
carbine.
1t was favorable moment for Lieu
tenant Hartwell. He recognized it as
such While the short absorption of
the guerrillas' attention lasted, Hart
well, quick as a wink, slipped from the
saddle, and, ere his captors were aware,
with far more agility than his weak
physical condition would seem to war
rant, he had darted off through the
towering canes, where horse could not
follow
The guerrillas, so absorbed In await
ing the approach of the invisible horse
men, did not for moment observe the
empty saddle. Then, with a smother
ed oath, the one holding the officers
horse struck him severe blow to1nake
him.stand aside. The spirited animal
resented the blow and with savage
lunge the bridle-rein was jerked from
the grasp of the irate man who was
thrown hardly to the ground, where
he lay half stunned as the Lieuten-
ants fiery horse went tearing away
down the road.
Then the horsemen rode into view
An exclamation of rude pleasure fell
from the lips of the guerrillas. The
grips on the carbines loosened. They
recognized in the newcomers two of
their own men, who were deserters
from Van Dorn's ranks, although they
still wore the gray. These men were
sool informed Of the capture and sud
den escape of the Federal officer.
"Jes' plum like a blamed Yankee"
remarked one of the newcomers.
They're all slicker n eel they'll any
OF EN- squeeze through knot-hole eff
they're gin half chance"
"Waal, / sartain believe YER" said
the leader, who had menaced Hart
we'll but he KANT be fur off, boys
Them Yankees KANT run through
cane-patch no better'n q city gal kin.
Let's be on his trail, an not stan hyer
a-givin' SIGH chances ter beat we 'uns."
After a hasty consultation it was de-
cided to conceal the horses in grove
hard by, and every man enter the pur-
suit, which they felt sure would lead
to the recapture OF. their escaped pris-
oner. Striking into the cane-brake,
they were soon on the Lieutenant's
track, which led through the intricacies
of the thicket.
Meanwhile, Arthur Hartwell was
making gigantic strides through the
bosky brake, stumbling over clinging
vines, which were densely entangled
about the canes; splashing and dash
ing into hidden pools of stagnant
water; then out again and into another
worse than the first, despoiling the
polish of his No. rs and Ticking with
clayey splashes his spotless uniform.
His physical strength was not ade-
quate to the demand which his really