United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
He came into the road a few rods ahead of us through a gap his men had
earlier made opposite the big white gate. He answered our fierce halloo,
as he crossed, by a pistol-shot at Ferry, but Ferry only glanced around
at me and pointed after him with his sword. A number of blue-coats afoot
followed him to the gap but at our onset scattered backward, sturdily
returning our fire. Into the gap and into the enemy's left rear went
Ferry and his horsemen, but I turned the other way and spurred through
the woods-pasture gate after the Federal leader, he on my horse and I on
his. Down the highway, on either side, stood his brave men's horses in
the angles of the worm-fence, and two or three horse-holders took a shot
at me as I sped in after the man who was bent on reaching the right of
his divided force before Quinn should strike it, as I was bent on
foiling him. Twice I fired at his shapely back, and twice, while he kept
his speed among the tree-trunks, he looked back at me as coolly as at an
odd passer-by and sent me a ball from his revolver. A few more bounds
carried him near enough to his force to shout his commands, but half a
hundred cheers suddenly resounded in the depth of the woods-pasture, and
Quinn and his men charged upon the foe's right and rear. I joined the
shout and the shouters; in a moment the enemy were throwing down their
arms, and I turned to regain the road to the pond. For I had marked
Jewett burst through Quinn's line and with a score of shots ringing
after him make one last brave dash--for escape. Others, pursuing him,
bent northward, but my instinct was right, his last hope was for his
horse-holders, and at a sharp angle of the by-road, where it reached the
pond, exactly where Camille and I had stood not an hour before, I came
abruptly upon Cricket--riderless. I seized his rein, and as I bent and
snapped the halter of one horse on the snaffle of the other I saw the
missing horseman. Leaping from the saddle I ran to him. He was lying on
his face in the shallow water where General Austin and his staff had so
gaily halted a short while before, and as I caught sight of him he
rolled upon his back and tried to lift his bemired head.
XXXV
FALLEN HEROES
I dropped to my knee in the reddening pool and passed my arm under his
head.
"Thank you," he said, and repeated the word as I wet my handkerchief and
wiped the mire from his face; "thank you;--no, no,"--I was opening his
shirt--"that's useless; get me where you can turn me over; you've hit me
in the back, my lad."
"I?--I hit you? Oh, Captain Jewett, thank God, I didn't hit you at all!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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