The Big Sandy news. [volume] (Louisa, Ky.) 1885-1929, 1912-11-15

sening for the slightest sound out IN
hat black void. My head burned and
hrobbed as with fever. and felt that
strange. unnatural stiffness as though
X had beenfa physical thing; surely
others besides us were upon this hill
.opl For knew well-my every SOL
5ier instinct told me-that somewhere
put In that impenetrable mystery were
blazing the camp fires OF an enemy.
Vigilant eyes were peering every
where in search Of such as we. How
far away they might Turk I could not
even conjecture perhaps merely
around some projecting wall OF rock,
land we might even now be within
the range Of their ready rifles.
could hear the quickened throbbing OF
my heart. and my hand fell heavily
on q pistol butt in nervous expect
ancy.
The soft night wind, heavy with
pine odors, began suddenly to play
amid the leaves Of low tree beside
me. and the pleasant rustling mingled
like strains of music with the slow
breathing Of the horses. recall It
now as one Of the loneliest moments
of my life, one Of those almost un-
accountable conditions Of mind and
body when It seemed to me that the
thin. sinewy fingers OF an memorable
fate were closing down with pres
sure which no strength of man might
resist. was worn with fatigue in
the saddle. but did not dream OF
sleep; my mind. In firm endeavor
to cast aside the uncanny influences
Of the hour, recalled In swift piano.
rama those three years OF civil strife
which had run their course since |,
a slender, white-faced lad, had stolen
forth into the moonlight from the por-
tails of the old home. to ride away into
the northward where the throbbing
drums called me, So deeply had my
every thought become merged in
these musings that Craig. slipping ST.
lently as a ghost from out the engulf-
ing darkness, laid hand upon my
bridle-reih before I became aware OF
his approach.
II got 'er all right now, Cap" he an
nounced quietly, peering up into my
face. I'VE uns are not more rcr a
hundred yards ter the right of the
road. but reckon you'll find Their way
a bit rough"
He led both horses forward, NOV
ing slowly and with that silent eau
ton SO Characteristic of his class.
With scarcely the scraping Of a hoof
on the finty rocks we came forth in
safety upon the defined. hard-beaten
track.
The south is over yonder ter the
left" he whispered, as he swung up
into saddle, IAN the trend Of the road
Is mighty nigh due west"
But in which direction does their
main camp lie, sergeant"
"Durn It; thets Just what l can't
quite figure out, sir-whether we uns
be to Their north or south of Their
white church. Then. somehow or 9TH
er, 1t seems like to me as II this
we're road lay bit too close ter the
edge of Their plateaus ter ever be the
main pike what the Feds marched
over. reckon from Their direction
it runs that maybe 1t might be a
branch like, or a wood-road leadin'
inter the other. II thet's the way 1t
Is, then them fellers we uns is tryin'
ter dodge ought ter be down yonder
ter the left somewhat"
l gazed vaguely out into the black
to which he pointed.
"Well, II we should chance to run
up against one of their picket posts
we shall soon be enlightened" l re-
turned, urging my horse carefully for
ward. But we shall have to take
the chances. for 1t would not prove
healthy for either of US to be caught
here by daylight"
Not daring to venture on any gait
,aster than a walk along this unknown
and ill-deflned mountain trail. we slow
" and cautiously worked our way
forward for more than an hour, meet
Ing with no human obstacle to our
progress. yet feeling that each step
forward was surrounded by imminent
peril. That We were now well within
the guarded lines OF the enemy
We were both assured. al
though where or how we had succeed
I'd In penetrating the Gordon OF picket
posts unobserved We could only con-
lecture.