Part 47 (2/2)

Then Deck turned to his brother.

”Artie, move over into the field and to their right,” he said. ”The other companies can handle them from the front.”

Without delay Captain Artie Lyon switched off as commanded. The second company was sent to the opposite side, where there was a slight break in the timber.

The Confederate ranking captain, seeing this new move, and realizing that his command was not more than three-quarters as strong as the enemy, resolved to continue his retreat. But the road curved and this brought him closer and closer to the position Artie Lyon's company was riding for, a split in the road where there was a wide open field backed by some rocks impossible to travel across. Before the Confederate had time to think twice, Artie gave him two volleys, and, maddened beyond endurance, the Confederate ordered a charge in the hope of breaking through the Union line and rejoining the balance of the regiment of the South.

The rush was such as only certain Southern commands were in the habit of making, a wild, delirious oncoming, with but one purpose,--to crush all that was in front, regardless of consequences. These rushes were truly soul-inspiring and worthy of a better cause. In many cases they brought victory, but the victory was literally drowned out by the blood which flowed.

It was so in the present case. Captain Artie's company met the shock like true soldiers fighting for a cause they knew was both lofty and just. The clash of steel, the crack of musketry, the din, confusion, and smoke, the yelling and cheering, were beyond description. It was a hand-to-hand encounter, in which every man had to do for himself, leaving his nearest neighbor to do as he saw fit.

The shock came before Major Lyon could do anything to prevent it; but without waiting an instant he ordered the other companies to this part of the field, and both commands fired as they ran, aiming at the rear lines of the Confederates, which were not yet mixed up in the melee. The companies then went into close action, Captain Richland's men actually riding over the last line of the enemy.

Deck saw that Artie was being hard pressed personally, having gone directly to the front to urge his command to stand firm. The young captain was daring to the last degree. ”Don't give them an inch!” he shouted. ”Down with them! Drive them back, boys!” And the ”boys” did drive them back, twenty yards or more. Artie was waving his sabre on high and continued in the front, when suddenly Deck was horrified to see him throw up both arms, reel from the saddle, and disappear from view in the surging ma.s.s of cavalrymen and infantry around him.

”Artie!” he cried, but the tumult drowned Deck's voice. Forgetting aught else, he urged Ceph into the lines and straight for that fatal spot, fully expecting to find poor Artie a corpse. He had yet a dozen yards to go when he saw Second Lieutenant Milton falling back bearing the young captain in his arms. Artie's eyes were closed, and the clothing about his left side was saturated with blood.

”Dead?” asked the major, hoa.r.s.ely. He could scarcely speak.

”I'm afraid so, Major; but I'm not certain,” was the answer. ”Shall I take him to the rear?”

”Yes, Lieutenant, and see that he gets the best of care if he still lives,” said Deck. ”I will come myself, as soon as I can.”

By this time the other companies had rushed in, and now the major found it absolutely necessary to re-form his battalion of three companies.

This was done inside of five minutes, and by this time the force of the first shock was over; but the Confederates had lost nearly one-third of their command, while Captain Artie's company had fared little better.

Finding the rush of no avail, so far as breaking through was concerned, the Confederate leader thought once again of retreating. But Deck had hemmed him in, and a galling fire from the front and the left brought him to his wit's end. The fire was about to be repeated, when the second captain of the Confederates interfered, and after a few words had pa.s.sed between him and his superior, a flag of truce was hoisted. The prisoners taken numbered exactly thirty-seven, all the other Confederates being either wounded or dead.

The fight had hardly drawn to a close when Colonel Lyon's orderly dashed up, to learn from Deck how things were going.

”They have surrendered,” answered the major. ”Their loss is very heavy and ours is likewise considerable--due entirely to their pig-headed leader, who kept on fighting when he should have saved his men and surrendered,” he added, with perhaps more bitterness than was necessary.

He was thinking of poor Artie.

”We have taken about half of the men in the swamp, and the battle is over there, also,” said the orderly. ”The remaining troops escaped into the timber, and Captain Knox's company has gone after them.”

”Tell Colonel Lyon that Captain Artie Lyon is either dead or badly wounded,” said Deck, and rode off, to learn the truth concerning his cousin and foster-brother's condition.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

MAJOR LYON MAKES A DISCOVERY AND DELIVERS A MESSAGE

Deck found Artie lying in a sheltered spot, on a hastily constructed couch of pine boughs. Over the wounded young man stood Surgeon Farnwright, binding up a ghastly wound in the shoulder.

”What do you think of this, Surgeon?” asked the major, anxiously.

”Your brother is in a bad way, Major,” was the grave response. ”The bullet has shattered the shoulder blade and gone into the back.”

”What are his chances of recovery, in your opinion?”

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