Who goes there? : $b The story of a spy in the Civil WarBenson, B. K. (Blackwood Ketcham)
History
Who goes there? : $b The story of a spy in the Civil War
Benson, B. K. (Blackwood Ketcham)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of us. I
directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should halt, with his
horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill. I went forward on foot,
Jones riding some ten paces in my rear. At the bottom of the hill I
found a small stream. Bidding Jones return to Frank and bring him and
all the horses up to the branch, I went up the next hill, still in the
open. At the top of the hill I found a straggling thicket of small
pines, not more than a hundred feet in width; from the far side of this
thicket I saw more open ground before me. I went back, hoping to find my
comrades at the branch. As I went down the hill I heard them coming down
the opposite slope. They seemed to be making a great noise. One of the
horses struck fire with his shoe against a stone. I was greatly alarmed,
and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until daylight.
The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep them
from making a noise. Jones was directed to scout to the left as far as
the road, and to return and examine the ground to our right for a few
hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I went forward nearly
half a mile, going first over open ground, then through a thick but
narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a hill from which I could
see through the rain a dim light which I supposed was caused by
camp-fires. A train of cars rumbled at my left, at a considerable
distance--perhaps more than a mile away.
Returning to the horses I found Jones, who reported that the road was
only some two hundred and fifty yards at our left, with woods on the
other side of it, and that on our right there was nothing but a wood
which extended to a swamp.
Frank and Jones were told to snatch what sleep they could; they rolled
themselves in their gum-blankets and lay under a thick pine bush. The
rain was pouring down.
At the first sign of day I woke the men. We silently made our way across
the road, leading the horses; I knew that the rain would soon, wash out
all our tracks. I now believed that Branch had moved southward some
miles, increasing his distance from the Pamunkey.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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