The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1892-12-24
THEH0RSEMANINTHEAIR

AautSA ny tue Sue OF a ROAD IN western Nlr-
ginia. He lay at full length upon his
stomach, his feet resting upon the toes, his
head upon his left forearm. His extended
right hand loosely grasped his rifle. But
for the somewhat methodical disposition
of his limbs and slight rhythmic move
ment of the cartridge box at the back of
his belt he might have been thought to be
dead. He was asleep at his post of duty
But If detected he would be dead shortly
afterward, that being the just and legal
penalty of his crime
The country was wooded everywhere ex-
cept at the bottom of the valley to the
northward, where there was small nat
ural meadow through which flowed a
stream scarcely visible from the valleys
rim. This open ground looked hardly
larger than an ordinary door yard but was
really many acres in extent. It's green was
more vivid than that of the inclosing for
est Away beyond it rose a line of giant
cliffs similar to those upon which we are
supposed to stand in our survey of the saw
age scene, and through which the road had
somehow made its climb to the summit.
The confguration of the valley, indeed,
was such that from our point of observa--
ton it seemed entirely shut in, and one
could not but have wondered how the road
which found a way out of it had found a
. way into it, and whence came and whittier
went the stream that parted the meadow
two thousand feet below
No country is so wild and difficult but
men will make it theatre of war. Con-
cealed in the forest at the bottom of that
military rat trap, III which half hundred
So A..
starved an army to submission, lay five
regiments of Federal infantry. They had
marched all the previous day and night,
and were resting. At nightfall they would
take to the road again, climb to the place
where their nnfaithful sentinel now slept,
and, descending the other slope Of the
ridge, fall upon a camp of the enemy at
about midnight. Their hope was to sur
prise him, for the road led to the rear of
his camp. In case of failure their position
would be perilous in the extreme and fail
they would should accident or vigilance
apprise him of the movement.
The sleeping sentinel in the clump of
laurels was young Virginian named Car
ter Druse. He was the son of wealthy
parents-an only child-and had known
such ease and cultivation and high living
as wealth and taste were able to command
in the mountain country of western Vir-
ginia a quarter century ago His home
was but few miles from where he now
Alay. One morning no rose from the break
fast table and said quietly but gravely:
Father, Union regiment has arrived at
Grafton. am going to join it,"
The father lifted his leonine head, look
ed at the son moment in silence and re
piled: go, Carter, and whatever may
happen | hope that you will do what you
conceive to be your duty. Should we both
live to the end of the war we will speak
further of the matter. Your mother, as
the physician has informed you, is in a
critical condition; at the best she cannot
be with us longer than a few weeks, but
that time is precious 1t would be better
not to disturb her."
So Carter Druse, bowling reverently to
his father, who retul ned the salute with
stately courtesy which masked breaking
heart, left the home of his childhood to go
soldering. By const ;ence and courage, by
deeds of devotion ami daring, lie soon COM
mended himself to his fellows and his off
GERS; and it was to these qualities and to
some knowledge of the country that no
owed his present pe'ilous duty at the ex-
trene utpost. Ney ertheless, fatigue had
been stronger than resolution, and he had
fallen asleep. What good or bad angel came
in dream to rouse MIN from his state of
crime. who shall say? Without a move
ment, without a sound, in the profound
silence and the languor of the late after
noon, some invisible messenger of fate
touched with unsealing finger the eyes of
his consciousness-whisp into the ear
of his spirit the mysterious awakening
word which no human lips have ever
spoken, no human memory has ever re-
called. He quietly raised his forehead
from his arm and looked between the lau-
rels, instinctively closing his right hand
about the stock of his rife.
His first feeling was a keen, artistic de-
light On the colossal pedestal of the cliff
mOtionless, at the extreme edge of the cap
ping rock, sharply outlined against the
sky, was an equestrian statue of impress
i've dignity. The figure of the man sat the
figure of the horse, straight and soldierly,
but with the repose of a Grecian god carved
in the marble which limits the suggestion
of activity. The gray costume harmonized
with its aerial background; the metal of
accouterment and caparison was softened
and subdued by the shadow; the animals
skin had no points of high light. A car
bine, strikingly foreshortened, lay across
the pommel of the saddle, kept in place by
the right hand grasping it at the grips"
the left hand, holding the bride rein, was
invisible. In silhouette against the sky
the profile of the horse was cut with the
sharpness of a cameo; it looked across the
heights of air to the cliff beyond The face
OF the rider, turned slightly TO the left,
showed only an outline of temple and
beard; he was looking downward to the
bottom of the valley. Magnified by its lift
against the sky and by the soldiers testi-