Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1891-04-25


hills, line Of low lying bluffs, which
bisect the state from Vicksburp in a
northeasterly direction. But a little
way below is Haine's bluff, which john
ston, IN his memorable dispatch TO Penn
berton, after the latter had fallen hack
upon Nicksburg before the vigorous on
slaught Of McClernand, referred 10. ..If
Haine's bluff be untenable Vicksburg i
or no value and cannot be held. If.
therefore, You are invested in Vicksburg
You must ultimately surrender" But
PembertCn had already been encom-
passed in the bluff city, and the guns OF
Porter's feet on May IS drove the few
defenders away from the historic point
at Haine's bluff and opened the way of
the federal feet to Yazoo City.
Zeb had drawn up his skif on the
bank and prepared TO camp. If he had
been older and wiser, perhaps his mind
would have been busy with the thought
of those heroic days when the shifting
scenes Of war made the nations heart
throo with each message that the light
ming bore from the narrowing battle
field He could have almost looked
across 70 the opening of Steele's and
Chlckasaw bayous, whose very names
thrill Us with the memory of the inyinci-
bic valor Of our arms; but little way
below was what was once the celebrated
plantation Of Albert Sidney Johnston
who fell at Shiloh; not far from the very
cove IN which Zeb drew up his skiff the
Confederate ram Arkansas had made
her bold dash through the Federal feet
sent 10 find and capture her, and after fol-
lowing in hot pursuit of the Carondolet
Tyler and Queen Of the West, ran away
under the very nose of gallant old Far
ragut, who chafed because his vessels
did not have steam up, and thus denied
him the pursuit.
All about here the picket lines had
wavered IN the game and storm of war,
now advancing, now retreating, as the
band of bavoneted steel was drawn
closer about the doomed city. The
thunder Of the great guns from the NOR
tar feet and from the river batteries on
Delta point had once echoed in hollow
diapason along these serried ridges and
across the dreary marshes, only TO be
answered by the reverberant 'sboomr
"bosm.' boom" of the big guns on the
embattled bluffs. Fortunately. or IN
fortunately, Zeb knew none Of these
things, and as he looked out through the
gathering gloom he cared less. But
stealing across the water from away up
the stream came the rosy glow Of a far
off camp fire.
IL had strange fascination for the
rivernaD He was used to seeing camp
fires on the river. Sometimes they were
kindled by colored movers" waiting for
a boat, or by woodsmen and fisher folk,
but oftenest by those uneasy emigrants
who drift down from nowhere to some
where-always from the land of unful-
filled reality to the Eden Of abundant
anticipation. He did not know whether
1t was hstless interest or some I'M
wonted premonition or foreboding that
had possession Of him, but he started
toward this far OF fire, making his way
as best he could through the tangled un-
derbrush and drifted logs that covered
the ground in the black and solemn
woods. He kept close to the rivers
bank, so that he could occasionally come
out upon it and keep the freight in
view
1t was slow and tedious work, but his
muscles were Injured to such strain, and
In an hour he was looking through a cur
tain Of dry muscadine vines that swung
like veil from the trees upon a little
camp. He saw piece of brown and
patched canvas thrown over a low hang
ing limb, with its edges fastened to the
ground, forming a meager shelter tent
to keep off the certain dew or the posi-
bic rain; before this was a fire and a man
was standing over it watching the con-
tents of an iron pot in which some savory
stew Of rabbit or squirrel was boiling.
AS the fire leaped up and threw a warm
glow over the scene Zeb's pulse beat fast
and then seemed to stop beating alto
gether, for by the light he saw the face
OF the man. And it was the same he had
seen behind the bar of the saloon on
Lookout point. 1t was the deep lined,
brutal face of the man who had robbed
him of Cordia, and who had struck him
down when ne had sought her rescue
Zeb drew his musket to his shoulder and
looked down along its rusty barrel, where
on the light played redly, and across the
sight at the end to point on the breast
of the man beneath which he knew the
heart beat.
A long time he held the gun theresa
long and so steadily that he and it seemed
like part of the still woods. The night
had not voice except the far off boot
of q screech owl that called mournfully
from the forest on the far bank to its lost
mate The man at the fire, unconscious
of the swift death that waited but the
message of finger touch, did not move.
One minute! two minutesi-almost three
then the long barrel dropped lower and
Zeb Posey, letting it fall till he grasped
the barrel in his hand, broke through the
network of interlacing vines and stalked
into the circle of the rosy fame.
The man at the fire looked up and