The Last RebelAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Last Rebel
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Prisoners -- Fiction; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
It required but a few minutes for me to organize our search and rescue
expedition. I made Crothers my lieutenant, and took all but four men,
leaving these to care for the house. Food enough for several days and
blankets for the night were collected hastily, and then we were ready.
Miss Hetherill approached cloaked and hooded. To my protest she replied
with much firmness that she was going with us.
"But the road over these mountains is not fit for a lady to travel," I
said.
"I have been over that road often, and I know these mountains much
better than you, Mr. West," she replied.
I could not dispute her assertion, and moreover her presence would be
useful to us in certain contingencies. She was a strong, active girl;
and I made no further objection. We left the house; the drawbridge was
lowered to let us pass, and when we had crossed was raised again.
In a few minutes we were out of the valley and in the mountains,
following the old road. As it was my second journey, I saw how easy it
was for the colonel and his men to pursue and overtake me. It was the
only real road through the mountains, and one followed it as naturally
as the waters of a brook flow down its channel.
"How long a start of us has the colonel?" I asked.
"Not more than an hour," replied Crothers; "but he is strong, in spite
of his age, and a good mountaineer. I guess he can go faster than we
can."
It is true that one man, other things being equal, can travel faster
than half a dozen who stick together, and in it lay the danger that the
colonel would out-foot us. But there was consolation in the thought
that Dr. Ambrose had the same advantage.
It was an indifferent night, neither very clear nor very dark. There
was light enough to show the peaks and the ravines, but only to
distort them. I let Crothers, who knew the way, take the lead, and I
dropped back by the side of Miss Hetherill. We were silent for some
time; then I made a lame apology for blundering upon Fort Defiance and
bringing such trouble to its inmates.
"It is not your fault that you came, Mr. West," she said, "and even if
you had come by intention we would have no right to complain. Something
of the kind was bound to happen some day."
I was glad that she admitted the abnormal conditions of Fort Defiance.
That she knew them was obvious, for she had passed but little of her
life there and knew the swing of the world.
We made speed, despite the roughness of the way. Some mists or fine
clouds sifted before the moon, and the visible world became small. But
we went on without uncertainty. The fugitive could not well turn from
the path, nor could the pursuer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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