The Junior Classics, Volume 7: Stories of Courage and Heroism
History
The Junior Classics, Volume 7: Stories of Courage and Heroism
Children's literature
They left him and went back to the guard-room again. An hour passed
away in suspense. It seemed as though every ear in the regiment
were on the rack for the discharge of that musket. Hardly a man
spoke, but as the minutes dragged along the conviction gained ground
that already the brave man had followed the fate of the other three.
The colonel paced up and down in the guard-room, as anxious as any
of the men. He looked at his watch for the twentieth time. An hour
and twenty minutes had gone.
Suddenly, down in the woods, the report of a musket rang out.
Colonel, officers, and men poured out of the guard-room, almost
without a word, and advanced at a double through the woods. The
mystery was going to be solved at last. Until quite close to the
spot, they were forced, by the thickness of the forest, to remain
in ignorance of what had happened, and whether their comrade was
dead or alive. But they shouted, and an answering "Halloa!" at
last came back. As they turned into the glade where the sentinel
had been posted, they beheld him advancing towards them and dragging
another man along the ground by the hair of the head.
He flung the body down. It was an Indian, stone-dead, with a
musket-wound in his side.
"How did it happen?" panted the colonel, beside himself with joy.
"Well," said the soldier, saluting, "I gave your honor notice that
I should fire if I heard the least noise. That's what I did, and
it saved my life; and it just happened in this way.
"I hadn't been long standing here, peering round till my eyes ached,
when I heard a rustling about fifty yards away. I looked and saw an
American hog, of the sort that are common enough in these parts,
coming down the glade opposite, crawling along the ground and
sniffing to right and left--just as if he'd no business in life
but to sniff about for nuts under the fallen leaves and all about
the roots of the trees. Boars are common enough, so I gave him a
glance and didn't take much notice for some minutes.
"But after a while, thinks I to myself--'No doubt the others
kept their eyes about them sharp enough, and was only took in by
neglecting something that seemed of no account;' so being on the
alarm and having no idea what was to be feared and what was not,
I woke up after some minutes and determined to keep my eyes on it
and watch how it passed in and out among the trees. For I thought,
if it comes on an Indian skulking about yonder, I may be able to
learn something from its movements. Indians are thick enough here
and to spare: but they're not so thick as nuts, for all that.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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