CHAPTER IV
THE FIGHT AT THE CROSSWAYS
Colonel Hertford was near the head of the Union column, while the threeyouths rode a little farther back with Colonel Winchester, the regimentof Colonel Bedford bringing up the rear. Just behind Dick was SergeantWhitley, mounted upon a powerful bay horse. The sergeant had shownhimself such a woodsman and scout, and he was so valuable in thesecapacities that Colonel Winchester had practically made him an aide,and always kept him near for orders.
Dick noticed now that the sergeant leaned a little forward in hissaddle and was using his eyes and ears with all the concentration ofthe great plainsman that he was. In that attitude he was a formidablefigure, and, though he lacked the spy's subtlety and education, heseemed to have much in common with Shepard.
As for Dick himself his nerves had not been so much on edge since hewent into his first battle, nor had his heart beat so hard, and he knewit was because Harry Kenton and those comrades of his would be at theconvergence of the roads, and they would meet, not in the confusedconflict of a great battle, when a face might appear and disappear thenext second, but man to man with relatively small numbers. The moonwas dimmed a little by fleecy clouds, but the silvery color, instead ofvanishing was merely softened, and when Dick looked back at the Unioncolumn it, like the troop of the South, had the quality of a ghostlytrain. But the clouds floated away and then the light gleamed on thebarrels of the short carbines that the horsemen carried. From a pointon the other side of the forest came the softened notes of a trumpetand the great pulse in Dick's throat leaped. Only a few minutes moreand they would be at the meeting of the ways.
Colonel Hertford sent a half dozen mounted skirmishers into the road,but the column moved forward at its even pace, still silvered in themoonlight, but ready for battle, wounds and death. Sergeant Whitleywhispered to Dick:
"Other men than our own are moving in the forest. I can hear the treadof horses' hoofs on the dry leaves and twigs at the far edge. Ourscouts should meet them in a moment or two."
It came as the sergeant had predicted, and Dick saw a tiny flash offire, not much larger than a pink dot in the woods, heard the sharpreport of a rifle and then the crack of another rifle in reply.Silence followed for an instant, but it was evident that the hostileforces were in touch and then in another moment or two the horses ofthe scouts crashed in the brush, as they rode back to the main column.They had seen enough.
Colonel Hertford gave the order and the entire Union force now advancedat a gallop. Through the woods, narrowing so rapidly, came the swiftbeat of hoofs on the other side, and it was apparent that coincidencewould bring the two forces to the point of convergence at the sametime. The moonlight seemed to Dick to grow so bright and intense thatit had almost the quality of sunlight. Nature, in the absence of day,was making the field of battle as light as possible.
"What's the lay of the land at the point of meeting?" he whisperedhurriedly to Shepard who had ridden up by his side.
"Almost level," came the quick response.
A few more rapid hoofbeats and the shrouding woods between disappeared.One column saw another column, both clad in the moonlight, in Dick'sfancy, all in silver mail. The two forces wheeled and faced each otheracross the open space, their horses staring with red eyes, and the menlooking intently at their opponents. Both were oppressed for aninstant or two by a deep and singular silence.
Dick's eyes swept fearfully along the gray column of the South, and hesaw the one whom he did not wish to see--at least not there--HarryKenton himself, sitting on his bay horse with his friends around him.The two elderly men must be Colonel Leonidas Talbot andLieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire, and the three youths besideHarry were surely St. Clair, Langdon and Dalton.
As he looked, Colonel Leonidas Talbot raised his sword, and at the sametime came the sharp command of Colonel Hertford. Rifles and carbinesflashed from either side across the open space, and two streams ofbullets crossed. In an instant the silver of the moonlight was hiddenby clouds of smoke through which flashed the fire from hundreds ofrifles and carbines. All around Dick's ears was the hissing sound ofbullets, like the alarm from serpents.
The fire at close range was so deadly to both sides that holes weresmashed in the mounted ranks. The shrill screams of wounded horses,far more terrible than the cries of wounded men, struck like knifepoints on the drums of Dick's ears. He saw Shepard's horse go down,killed instantly by a heavy bullet, but the spy himself leaped clear,and then Dick lost him in the smoke. A bullet grazed his own wrist andhe glanced curiously at the thin trickle of blood that came from it.Yet, forgetting it the next instant, he waved his saber above his head,and began to shout to the men.
Rifles and pistols emptied, the Southern horsemen were preparing tocharge. The lifting smoke disclosed a long line of tossing manes andflashing steel. At either end of the line a shrill trumpet wassounding the charge, and the Northern bugles were responding with thesame command. The two forces were about to meet in that most terribleof all combats, a cavalry charge by either side, when enemies lookedinto the eyes of one another, and strong hands swung aloft the nakedsteel, glittering in the moonlight.
"Bend low in the saddle," exclaimed the sergeant, "and then you'll missmany a stroke!"
Dick obeyed promptly and their whole line swept forward over the grassto meet the men in gray who were coming so swiftly against them. Hesaw a thousand sabers uplifted, making a stream of light, and then thetwo forces crashed together. It seemed to him that it was the impactof one solid body upon another as solid, and then so much blood rushedto his head that he could not see clearly. He was conscious only of amighty crash, of falling bodies, sweeping sabers, that terrible neighagain of wounded horses, of sun-tanned faces, and of fierce eyesstaring into his own, and then, as the red mist thinned a little, hebecame conscious that someone just before him was slashing at him witha long, keen blade. He bent yet lower, and the sword passed over him,but as he rose a little he cut back. His edge touched only the air,but he uttered a gasp of horror as he saw Harry Kenton directly beforehim, and knew that they had been striking at each other. He saw, too,the appalled look in Harry's eyes, who at the same time had recognizedhis opponent, and then, in the turmoil of battle, other horsemen drovein between.
That shiver of horror swept over Dick once more, and then came relief.The charging horsemen had separated them in time, and he did not thinkit likely that the chances of battle would bring Harry and him face toface more than once. Then the red blur enclosed everything and he waswarding off the saber strokes of another man. The air was yet filledwith the noise of shouting men, and neighing horses, of heavy falls andthe ring of steel on steel. Neither gave way and neither couldadvance. The three Union colonels rode up and down their linesencouraging their men, and the valiant Talbot and St. Hilaire werenever more valiant than on that night.
A combat with sabers cannot last long, and cavalry charges are soonfinished. North and South had met in the center of the open space, andsuddenly the two, because all their force was spent, fell back fromthat deadly line, which was marked by a long row of fallen horses andmen. They reloaded their rifles and carbines and began to fire at oneanother, but it was at long range, and little damage was done. Theyfell back a bit farther, the firing stopped entirely, and they lookedat one another.
It was perhaps the effect of the night, with its misty silver coloring,and perhaps their long experience of war, giving them an intuitiveknowledge, that made these foes know nothing was to be gained byfurther combat. They were so well balanced in strength and couragethat they might destroy one another, but no one could march away fromthe field victorious. Perhaps, too, it was a feeling that the God ofBattles had already issued his decree in regard to this war, and thatas many lives as possible should now be spared. But whatever it was,the finger fell away from the trigger, the saber was returned to thescabbard, and they sat on their horses, staring at one another.
Dick took his glasses from his shoulder and beg
an to scan the hostileline. His heart leaped when he beheld Harry in the saddle, apparentlyunharmed, and near him three youths, one with a red bandage about hisshoulder. Then he saw the two colonels, both erect men with long, grayhair, on their horses near the center of the line, and talkingtogether. One gestured two or three times as he spoke, and he movedhis arm rather stiffly.
The three Union colonels were in a little group not far from Dick, andthey also were talking with one another. Dick wondered what they woulddo, but he was saved from long wonderment by the call of a trumpet fromthe Southern force, and the appearance of a horseman not older thanhimself riding forward and bearing a white flag.
"They want a truce," said Colonel Hertford. "Go and meet them, Mason."
Dick, willing enough, turned his horse toward the young man who,heavily tanned, was handsome, well-built and dressed with scrupulouscare in a fine gray uniform.
"My name is St. Clair," he said, "and I'm an officer on the staff ofColonel Leonidas Talbot, who commands the force behind me."
"I think we've met once before," said Dick. "My name is Mason, RichardMason, and I am with Colonel Arthur Winchester, who commands one of theregiments that has just been fighting you."
"It's so! Upon my life it's so, and you're the same Dick Mason that'sthe cousin of our Harry Kenton, the fellow he's always talking about!He's on General Lee's staff, but he's been detached for temporary dutywith us. He's over there all right. But I've come to tell you thatColonel Talbot, who commands us, offers a flag of truce to bury thedead. He sees that neither side can win, that to continue the battlewould only involve us in mutual destruction. He wishes, too, that Iconvey to your commander his congratulations upon his great skill andcourage. I may add, myself, Mr. Mason, that Colonel Talbot knows abrave man when he sees him."
"I've no doubt the offer will be accepted. Will you wait a moment?"
"Certainly," replied St. Clair, giving his most elegant salute with hissmall sword.
Dick went back to the Union colonels, and they accepted at once. Thatlong line of dead and wounded, and the mournful song of the windthrough the trees, affected the colonels on both sides. More flags oftruce were hoisted, and the officers in blue or gray rode forward tomeet one another, and to talk together as men who bore no hate in theirhearts for gallant enemies.
The troopers rapidly dug shallow graves with their bayonets in the softsoil, and the dead were laid away. The feeling of friendship and alsoof curiosity among these stern fighters grew. They were anxious to seeand talk a little with men who had fought one another so hard more thanthree years. Nearly all of them had lost blood at one time or another,and the venom of hate had gone out with it.
Dick found Harry dismounted and standing with a group of officers,among whom were St. Clair and Langdon. The two cousins shook handswith the greatest warmth.
"Well, Dick," said Harry, "we didn't think to meet again in this way,did we?"
"No, but both of us at least have come out of it alive, and unwounded.I'm sorry to see that your friend there is hurt."
"It's nothing," said Langdon, whose left arm was in a hasty bandage. "Ascratch only. I'll be able to use my arm as well as ever three daysfrom now."
"Your force," said St. Clair, "was marching to reinforce GeneralSheridan in the Valley of Virginia. I'm not asking for information,which of course you wouldn't give. I'm merely stating the fact."
"And yours," said Dick, "was marching to reinforce General Early in thesame valley. I, like you, am just making a statement."
"We've met, but you haven't been able to stop us."
"Nor have you been able to stop _us_."
"And so it's checkmate."
"Checkmate it is."
"Why don't you fellows give up and go home?" exclaimed Dick, moved byan irresistible impulse. "You know that your armies are wearing out,while ours are growing stronger!"
"We couldn't think of such a thing," replied St. Clair, in a tone ofcool assurance. "My friend Langdon here, has taken an oath to sleep inthe White House. We also intend to make a triumphal march throughPhiladelphia, and then down Broadway in New York. You would not haveus break our oaths or change our purposes."
"It's true, Dick," said Harry, "we can't do either. We'd like tooblige you Yankees, but we must make those triumphal parades throughPhiladelphia and New York."
"I should have known that I couldn't reason with you Johnny Rebs," saidDick, smiling, "but I hope that none of you will get killed, and hereand now I make you a promise."
"What is it, Dick?" asked Harry.
"When you suffer your final defeat, and all of you become my prisoners,I'll treat you well. I'll turn you loose in a Blue-grass pasture, andyou can roam as you please within its limits."
"Thank you," said Happy Tom, "but I'm no Nebuchadnezzar. I can't liveon grass. If I become a prisoner at any time I demand the very best offood, especially as you Yankees already have more than your share."
"There go the trumpets recalling us," said St. Clair. "The men havefinished the gruesome task. I want you to know, Mr. Mason, that webear you no animosity, and we're quite sure that you bear us none."
He extended his hand and Dick's met it in a warm grasp. Langdon alsoshook hands with him, and as his eyes twinkled he said:
"Don't fail to notice my haughty bearing when I march at the head of atriumphal troop down Broadway!"
"I promise," said Dick. Then he and Harry gave each other the finalclasp. But with the pride of the young they strove not to show emotion.
"Take care of yourself, Dick, old man!" said Harry. "Don't get in theway of bullets and shell. Remember they're harder than you are."
"The same to you, Harry. It's not worth while to take any more risksthan necessary."
Then, obeying the call of the trumpets, they mounted and rode to theirown commands. There was something strange in this brief half hour offriendship, when they buried the dead together. Blue and gray formedagain in long lines facing one another, but midway between was anotherlong line of fresh earth, and it rose up suddenly, an impassablebarrier to a charge by either force.
"We can't beat them and they can't beat us. That's been proved," saidColonel Hertford to Colonel Winchester and Colonel Bedford.
"So it has," said Colonel Winchester, "and I'd like to march from here.I don't care for any more fighting on this spot."
"Nor I. Hark, they've decided it for us!"
The Southern trumpet sounded another call, and the line of men in gray,turning away, began to march into the southwest. Colonel Hertfordpromptly gave an order, the Union trumpet sounded also, and the men inblue, curving also, rode toward the northwest.
Dick and his comrades were silent a long time. Their feelings wereperhaps the same. To youth a year is a long time, and two years arealmost a life time. Three years and more of it had made war to them anormal state. They had not thought much before of an end to the greatstruggle between North and South, and of what was to come after. Nowthey realized that peace, not war, was normal, and that it must return.
The moonlight faded and then the stars were dimmed, as the darknessthat precedes the dawn came. The silvery veil that had been thrownover them vanished and the column became a ghostly train riding in thedusk. But the road into which Shepard guided them led over a pleasantland of hills and clear streams. Although the scouts on their flankskept vigilant watch, many of the men slept soundly in their saddles.Dick himself dozed awhile, and slept awhile, and, when he rousedhimself from his last nap, the dawn was breaking over the brown hillsand the column was halting for food and a little rest.
It was August, the time of great heat in Virginia, but they werealready building fires to cook the breakfast and make coffee, and mostof the men had dismounted. Dick sprang down also and turned his horseloose to graze with the others. Then he joined Warner and Penningtonand fell hungrily to work. When he thought of it afterward he couldscarcely remember a time in the whole war when he was not hungry.
The sense of un
reality disappeared with the brilliant dawn, though thenight itself with the battle in the moonlight seemed to be almost adream. Yet the combat had been fought, and he had met Harry Kenton andhis friends. The empty saddles proved it.
"I see a great country opening out before us," said Warner. "I supposeit's this Valley of Virginia, of which we've all heard and seen somuch, and in which once upon a time Stonewall Jackson thumped us sooften."
"It's a branch of it," said Pennington, "but Stonewall Jackson is gone,God rest his soul--I say that from the heart, even if he was againstus--and I've an idea that instead of getting thumped we're going to dothe thumping. There's something about this man Sheridan that appealsto me. We've seen him in action with artillery, but now he's a cavalrycommander. They say he rides fast and far and strikes hard. Peopleare beginning to talk about Little Phil. Well, I approve of LittlePhil."
"He'll be glad to hear of it," said Dick. "It will brace him up a lot."
"He may be lucky to get it," replied Pennington calmly. "There aremany generals in this war, and two or three of them have beencommander-in-chief, of whom I don't approve at all. I think you'llfind, too, that history will have a habit of agreeing with me."
"But don't make predictions," said Dick. "There have been no genuine,dyed-in-the-wool prophets since those ancient Hebrews were gathered totheir fathers, and that was a mighty long time ago."
"There you're wrong, Dick," said Warner, earnestly. "It's all a matterof mathematics, the scientific application of a romantic andimaginative science to facts. Get all your premises right, arrangethem correctly, and the result follows as a matter of course."
The trumpet sounded boots and saddles, and cut him short. In a fewmore minutes they were all up and away, riding over the hills andacross the dips toward the main sweep of the famous valley which playedsuch a great part in the tactics and fighting of the Civil War. It hadalready been ravaged much by march and battle and siege, but itsheavier fate was yet to come.
But Dick did not think much of what might happen as he rode with hiscomrades across the broken country and saw, rising before them, the dimblue line of the mountains that walled in the eastern side of thevalley. The day was not so warm as usual, and among the higher hills abreeze was blowing, bringing currents of fresh, cool air that made thelungs expand and the pulses leap. The three youths felt almost as ifthey had been re-created, and Pennington became vocal.
"Woe is the day!" he said. "I lament what I have lost!"
"If what you have lost was worth keeping I lament with you," said Dick."O, woe is the day!"
"O, woe is the day for me, too!" said Warner, "but why do we uttercries of woe, Frank?"
"Because of the narrow, little, muddy little, ugly little, mean littletrench we've left behind us! O, woe is me that I've left such atrench, where one could sit in mud to the knees and touch the mud wallon either side of him, for this open, insecure world, where there isnothing but fresh air to breathe, nothing but water to drink, nothingbut food to eat, and no world but blue skies, hills, valleys, forests,fields, rivers, creeks and brooks!"
"O, woe is me!" the three chanted together. "We sigh for our narrowtrench, and its muddy bottom and muddy sides and foul air and lack ofspace, and for the shells bursting over our heads, and for the hostileriflemen ready to put a bullet through us at the first peep! Now, dowe sigh for all those blessings we've left behind us?"
"Never a sigh!" said Dick.
"Not a tear from me," said Pennington.
"The top of the earth for me," said Warner.
Their high spirits spread to the whole column. So thoroughly inuredwere they to war that their losses of the night before were forgotten,and they lifted up their voices and sang. Youth and the open air wouldhave their way and the three colonels did not object. They preferredmen who sang to men who groaned.
"Do you know just where we're going, and where we expect to find thisLittle Phil of yours?" asked Warner.
"I've heard that we're to report to him at Halltown, a place south ofthe Potomac, and about four miles from Harper's Ferry," replied Dick.
"As that's a long distance, we'll have a long ride to reach it," saidWarner, "and I'm glad of it. I'm enjoying this great trail, and I hopewe won't meet again those fire-eating friends of yours, Dick, who gaveus so much trouble last night."
"I hope so too," said Dick, "for their sake as well as ours. I don'tlike fighting with such close kin. They must be well along on thesouthwestern road now to join Early."
"There's no further danger of meeting them, at least before thiscampaign opens," said Warner. "Shepard has just come back from a longgallop and he reports that they are now at least twenty miles away,with the distance increasing all the time."
Dick felt great relief. He was softening wonderfully in these days,and while he had the most intense desire for the South to yield he hadno wish for the South to suffer more. He felt that the republic hadbeen saved and he was anxious for the war to be over soon. His heartswelled with pride at the way in which the Union states had stood fast,how they had suffered cruel defeats, but had come again, and yet again,how mistakes and disaster had been overcome by courage and tenacity.
"A Confederate dollar for your thoughts," said Warner.
"You can have 'em without the dollar," replied Dick. "I was thinkingabout the end of the war and after. What are all the soldiers going todo then?"
"Go straight back to peace," replied Warner promptly. "I know my ownambition. I've told you already that I intend to be president ofHarvard University, and, barring death, I'm bound to succeed. I givemyself twenty-five years for the task. If I choose my object now andbend every energy toward it for twenty-five years I'm sure to obtainit. It's a mathematical certainty."
"I'm going to be a great ranchman in Western Nebraska with my father,"said Pennington. "He's under fifty yet, and he's as strong as a horse.The buffalo in Western Nebraska must go and then Pennington and Sonwill have fifty thousand fine cattle in their place. And you, Dick,have you already chosen the throne on which you're going to sit?"
"Yes, I've been thinking about it for some time. I've made up my mindto be an editor. After the war I'm going to the largest city in ourstate, get a place on a newspaper there and strive to be its head.Then I'll try to cement the reunion of North and South. That will bemy greatest topic. We soldiers won't hate one another when the war isover, and maybe the fact that I've fought through it will give weightto my words."
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Warner. "When I'm president ofHarvard I'll invite the great Kentucky editor, Richard Mason, todeliver the annual address to my young men. I like that idea of yoursabout making the Union firmer than it was before the war. Since theNorthern States and the Southern States must dwell together the morepeace and brotherly love we have the better it will be for all of us."
"When you give me that invitation, George, you'd better ask my cousin,Harry Kenton, at the same time, because it's almost a certainty that hewill then be governor of Kentucky. His great grandfather, the famousHenry Ware, was the greatest governor the state ever had, and, as Iknow that Harry intends to study law and enter politics, he's bound tofollow in his footsteps."
"Of course I'll ask him," said Warner in all earnestness, "and he shallspeak too. You can settle it between you who speaks first. It will bean exceedingly effective scene, the two cousins, the great editor whofought on the Northern side and the great governor who fought on theSouthern side, speaking from the same stage to the picked youth of NewEngland. Pennington, the representative of the boundless West, shallbe there too, and if the owner of fifty thousand fine cattle roamingfar and wide wants to make an address he shall do so."
"I don't think I'd care to speak, George," said Pennington. "I'm notcut out for oratory, but I certainly accept right now your invitationto come. I'll sit on the stage with Dick and the Johnny Reb, hiscousin Harry, and I'll smile and smile and applaud and applaud, andafter it's all over I'll choose a few of your picked youth of Ne
wEngland, take 'em out west with me, teach 'em how to rope cattle, howto trail stray steers and how to take care of themselves in a blizzard.Oh, I'll make men of 'em, I will! Now, what is that on the high hillto the south?"
The three put their glasses to their eyes and saw a man on horsebackwaving a flag. The head of the horse was turned toward some hillfarther south, and the man was evidently making signals to anotherpatrol there.
"A Johnny," said Pennington. "I suppose they're sending the word ontoward Early that we're passing."
"From hill to hill," said Dick. "A message can be sent a long way inthat manner."
"I don't think it will interfere with us," said Warner. "They'remerely telling about us. They don't intend to attack us. They haven'tthe men to spare."
"No, they won't attack, they know I'm here," said Pennington.
The three colonels did not stop the column, but they watched thesignals as they rode. Nobody was able to interpret them, not evenShepard, but they felt that they could ignore them. Colonel Hertford,nevertheless, sent off a strong scouting party in that direction, butas it approached the horseman on the hill rode over the other side anddisappeared.
All that day they advanced through a lonely and hostile country. Itwas a region intensely Southern in its sympathies, and it seemed thateverybody, including the women and children, had fled before them.Horses and cattle were gone also and its loneliness was accentuated bythe fact that not so long before it had been a well-peopled land, wherenow the houses stood empty and silent. They saw no human beings, saveother watchmen on the hills making signals, but they were far away andsoon gone.
By noon both horses and men showed great fatigue. They had slept butlittle the night before, and, toughened as they were by war, they hadreached the limit of endurance. So the trumpet sounded the halt in ameadow beside a fine stream, and all, save those who were to ride onthe outskirts and watch for the enemy, dismounted gladly. A vastdrinking followed. The water was clear, running over clean pebbles,and a thousand men knelt and drank again and again. Then the horseswere allowed to drink their fill, which they did with mighty gurglingsof satisfaction, and the men cooked their midday meal.
Meanwhile they talked of Sheridan. All expected battle and then battleagain when they joined him, and they looked forward to a great campaignin the valley. That valley was not so far away. The blue walls of themountains that hemmed its eastern edge were very near now. Dick lookedat them through his glasses, not to find an enemy, but merely for thepleasure of bringing out the heavy forests on their slopes. It wastrue that the leaves were already touched by the summer's heat, but inthe distance at least the mass looked green. He knew also that underthe screen of the leaves the grass preserved its freshness and therewere many little streams, foaming in white as they rushed down thesteep slopes. It was a marvelously pleasing sight to him, and, as thewilderness thus called, he was once more deeply grateful that he hadescaped from the muddy trench.
"We'll pass through a gap, sir, tomorrow morning," said SergeantWhitley, "and go into the main valley."
"The gap would be the place for the Southern force to meet us."
But Sergeant Whitley shook his head.
"There are too many gaps and too few Southern troops," he said. "Ithink we'll find this one clear. Besides, Colonel Hertford is sure tosend a scouting party ahead tonight. But if you don't mind taking alittle advice from an old trooper, sir, I'd lie on the grass and sleepwhile we're here. An hour even will do a lot of good."
Dick followed his advice gladly and thanked him. He was always willingto receive instruction from Sergeant Whitley, who had proved himselfhis true friend and who in reality was able to teach men of much higherrank. He lay down upon the brown grass, and despite all the noise,despite all the excitement of past hours, fell fast asleep in a fewminutes. He slept an hour, but it seemed to him that he had scarcelyclosed his eyes, when the trumpets were calling boots and saddlesagain. Yet he felt refreshed and stronger when he sprang up, andSergeant Whitley's advice, as always, had proved good.
The column resumed its march before mid-afternoon, continuing itsprogress through a silent and empty country. The blue wall came closerand closer and Dick and his comrade saw the lighter line, looking inthe distance like the slash of a sword, that marked the gap. Shepard,who rode a very swift and powerful horse, came back from anotherscouting trip and reported that there was no sign of the enemy, atleast at the entrance to the gap.
Later in the afternoon, as they were passing through a forest severalshots were fired at them from the covert. No damage was done beyondone man wounded slightly, and Dick, under orders, led a short pursuit.He was glad that they found no one, as prisoners would have been anincumbrance, and it was not the custom in the United States to shootmen not in uniform who were defending the soil on which they lived. Hehad no doubt that those who had fired the shots were farmers, but ithad been easy for them to make good their escape in the thickets.
He thought he saw relief on Colonel Hertford's face also, when hereported that the riflemen had escaped, and, after spreading outskirmishers a little farther on either flank, the column, which hadnever broken its march, went on at increased pace. It was growing warmnow, and the dust and heat of the long ride began to affect them. Theblue line of the mountains, as they came close, turned to green andDick, Warner and Pennington looked enviously at the deep shade.
"Not so bad," said Warner. "Makes me think a little of the GreenMountains of Vermont, though not as high and perhaps not as green."
"Of course," said Dick. "Nothing outside of Vermont is as good asanything inside of it."
"I'm glad you acknowledge it so readily, Dick. I have found somepeople who would not admit it at first, and I was compelled to talk andpersuade them of the fact, a labor that ought to be unnecessary. Thetruth should always speak for itself. Vermont isn't the most fertilestate in the Union and it's not the largest, but it's the best producerof men, or I should say the producer of the best men."
"What will Massachusetts say to that? I've read Daniel Webster'sspeech in reply to Hayne."
"Oh, Massachusetts, of course, has more people, I'm merely speaking ofthe average."
"Nebraska hasn't been settled long," said Pennington, "but you justwait. When we get a population we'll make both Vermont andMassachusetts take a back seat."
"And that population, or at least the best part of it," rejoined theundaunted Warner, "will come from Vermont and Massachusetts and otherNew England states."
"Sunset and the gap together are close at hand," said Dick, "andhowever the mountains of Virginia may compare with those of Vermont,it's quite certain that the sun setting over the two states is thesame."
"I concede that," said Warner; "but it looks more brilliant from theVermont hills."
Nevertheless, the sun set in Virginia in a vast and intense glow ofcolor, and as the twilight came they entered the gap.