The raid of the guerilla, and other stories — John Shaqi
The raid of the guerilla, and other storiesCraddock, Charles Egbert
General
The raid of the guerilla, and other stories
Craddock, Charles Egbert
Cumberland Mountains -- Fiction; Mountain life -- Fiction; Tennessee -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
As he stood thus motionless in the absolute stillness, a sudden thought
came to his mind--a sudden and terrible thought. He could not be sure
whether he had heard aught, or whether the sight of the water suggested
the idea. He knew that he could little longer sustain his flight,
despite his vigor and strength. Quivering in every fibre from his long
exertions, he set his course straight for that glimmering sheen of
water. Encircling it were heavy shadows. Tall trees pressed close to the
verge, where lay here a fallen branch, and there a rotten log, half
sunken in mud and ooze, and again a great tangle of vines that had
grown smiling to the summer sun, but now, with the slow expansion of
the lake which was fed by a surcharged bayou, quite submerged in a
fretwork of miry strands. The margin was fringed with saw-grass, thick
and prickly, and his practised eye could discern where the original
banks lay by the spears thrust up above the surface a score of feet
away. Thus he was sure of his depth as he waded out staunchly, despite
the cruel pricks to his sensitive naked feet. The little dog had scant
philosophy; he squeaked and wheezed and wailed with the pain until the
man, who had no time to kill him now--for had he heard aught or
naught?--picked him up and carried him in his arms, the creature licking
Hoxer's hands in an ecstasy of gratitude, and even standing on his
hind-legs on his master's arm to snatch a lick upon his cheek.
In the darksome shadows, further and further from the spot where he had
entered the lake, Hoxer toiled along the margin, sometimes pausing to
listen--for had he heard aught or naught?--as long as his strength would
suffice. Then amidst the miry debris of last summer's growths beneath
the recent inundation he sank down in the darkness, the dog exhausted in
his arms.
This was one of those frequent crescent-shaped lakes peculiar to the
region; sometimes, miles in extent, the lacustrine contour is not
discernible to the glance; here the broad expanse seemed as if the body
of water were circular and perhaps three miles in diameter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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