Part 7 (1/2)
d.i.c.k knew that he could not exercise too much caution in this debatable land, and his right hand dropped cautiously to the b.u.t.t of his pistol in such a manner that it was concealed by his heavy overcoat. His left hand rested lightly on the reins as he rode forward at an even pace. But he did not fail to take careful note of the two men who were now examining him in a manner that he did not like.
d.i.c.k saw that the strangers openly carried pistols in their belts, which was not of overwhelming significance in such times in such a region, but they did not have the look of mountaineers riding on peaceful business, and he reined his horse to the very edge of the road that he might pa.s.s them.
He noted with rising apprehension that they checked the pace of their horses as they approached, and that they reined to either side of the road to compel him to go between them. But he pulled his own horse out still further, and as they could not pa.s.s on both sides of him without an overt act of hostility they drew together again in the middle of the road.
”Mornin' stranger,” they said together, when they were a few yards away.
”Good morning,” said d.i.c.k, riding straight on, without checking his speed. But one of the men drew his horse across the road and said: ”What's your hurry? It ain't friendly to ride by without pa.s.sin' the time o' day.”
Now at close range, d.i.c.k liked their looks less than ever. They might be members of that very band of Skelly's which had already made so much trouble for both sides, and he summoned all his faculties in order to meet them at any game that they might try to play.
”I've been on land business in the mountains,” he said, ”and I'm anxious to get back to my home. Besides the day is very cold, and the two facts deprive me of the pleasure of a long conversation with you, gentlemen. Good-day.”
”Wait just a little,” said the spokesman, who still kept his horse reined across the road. ”These be war times an' it's important to know what a fellow is. Be you for the Union or are you with the Secesh?”
d.i.c.k was quite sure that whatever he answered they would immediately claim to be on the opposite side. Then would follow robbery and perhaps murder.
”Which is your side?” he asked.
”But we put the question first,” the fellow replied.
d.i.c.k no longer had any doubts. The second man was drawing his horse up by the side of him, as if to seize him, while the first continued to bar the way. He was alarmed, deeply alarmed, but he lost neither his courage nor his presence of mind. Luckily he had already summoned every faculty for instant action, and now he acted. He uttered a sudden shout, and raked the side of his horse with both spurs.
His horse was not only large and powerful but of a most high spirit. When he heard that shout and felt the burning slash of the spurs he made a blind but mighty leap forward. The horse of the first stranger, smitten by so great a weight, fell in the road and his rider went down with him. The enraged horse then leaped clear of both and darted forward at headlong speed.
As his horse sprang d.i.c.k threw himself flat upon his neck, and the bullet that the second man fired whistled over his head. By impulse he drew his own pistol and fired back. He saw the man's pistol arm fall as if broken, and he heard a loud cry. That was a lucky shot indeed, and rising a little in his saddle he shouted again and again to the great horse that served him so well.
The gallant animal responded in full. He stretched out his long neck and the road flew fast behind him. Sparks flashed from the stones where the shod hoofs struck, and d.i.c.k exulting felt the cold air rush past. Another shot was fired at long range, but the bullet did not strike anywhere near.
d.i.c.k took only a single backward glance. He saw the two men on their horses, but drooping as if weak from hurts, and he knew that for the present at least he was safe from any hurt from them. But he allowed his horse his head for a long time, and then he gradually slowed him down. No human being was in sight now and he spoke to the n.o.ble animal soothingly.
”Good old boy,” he said; ”the strongest, the swiftest, the bravest, and the truest. I was sorry to make those red stripes on your sides, but it had to be done. Only quickness saved us.”
The horse neighed. He was still quivering from excitement and exertion. So was d.i.c.k for that matter. The men might have been robbers merely-they were at least that bad-but they might have deprived him also of his precious dispatch. He was proud of the confidence put in him by General Thomas, and he meant to deserve it. It was this sense of responsibility and pride that had attuned his faculties to so high a pitch and that had made his action so swift, sudden and decisive.
But he steadied himself presently. The victory, for victory it certainly was, increased his strength and confidence. He stopped soon at a brook-they seemed to occur every mile-and bathed with cold water the red streaks his spurs had made on either side of his horse. Again he spoke soothing words and regretted the necessity that had caused him to make such wounds, slight though they were.
He also bathed his own face and hands and, as it was now about noon, ate of the cold ham and bread that he carried in his knapsack, meanwhile keeping constant watch on the road over which he had come. But he did not believe that the men would pursue, and he saw no sign of them. Mounting again he rode forward.
The remainder of the afternoon went by without interruption. He pa.s.sed three or four people, but they were obviously natives of that region, and they asked him only innocent questions. The wintry day was short, and the twilight was soon at hand. He was riding over one of the bare ridges, when first he noticed how late the day had grown. All the sky was gray and chill and the cold sun was setting behind the western mountains. A breeze sprang up, rustling among the leafless branches, and d.i.c.k s.h.i.+vered in the saddle. A new necessity was pressed suddenly upon him. He must find shelter for the night. Even with his warm double blankets he could not sleep in the forest on such a night. Besides the horse would need food.
He rode on briskly for a full hour, anxiously watching both sides of the road for a cabin or cabin smoke. By that time night had come fully, though fortunately it was clear but very cold. He saw then on the right a faint coil of smoke rising against the dusky sky and he rode straight for it.
The smoke came from a strong double cabin, standing about four hundred yards from the road, and the sight of the heavy log walls made d.i.c.k all the more anxious to get inside them. The cold had grown bitter and even his horse s.h.i.+vered.
As he approached two yellow curs rushed forth and began to bark furiously, snapping at the horse's heels, the usual mountain welcome. But when a kick from the horse grazed the ear of one of them they kept at a respectful distance.
”h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo!” called d.i.c.k loudly.
This also was the usual mountain notification that a guest had come, and the heavy board door of the house opened inward. A man, elderly, but dark and strong, with the high cheek bones of an Indian stood in the door, the light of a fire blazing in the fireplace on the opposite side of the wall throwing him in relief. His hair was coal black, long and coa.r.s.e, increasing his resemblance to an Indian.
d.i.c.k rode close to the door, and, without hesitation, asked for a night's shelter and food. This was his inalienable right in the hills or mountains of his state, and he would be a strange man indeed who would refuse it.
The man sharply bade the dogs be silent and they retreated behind the house, their tails drooping. Then he said to d.i.c.k in a tone that was not without hospitality: ”'Light, stranger, an' we'll put up your horse. Mandy will have supper ready by the time we finish the job.”
d.i.c.k sprang down gladly, but staggered a little at first from the stiffness of his legs.
”You've rid far, stranger,” said the man, who d.i.c.k knew at once had a keen eye and a keen brain, ”an' you're young, too.”
”But not younger than many who have gone to the war,” replied d.i.c.k. ”In fact, you see many who are not older than fifteen or sixteen.”
He had spoken hastily and incautiously and he realized it at once. The man's keen gaze was turned upon him again.
”You've seen the armies, then?” he said. ”Mebbe you're a sojer yourself?”
”I've been in the mountains, looking after some land that belongs to my family,” said d.i.c.k. ”My name is Mason, Richard Mason, and I live near Pendleton, which is something like a hundred miles from here.”
He deemed it best to give his right name, as it would have no significance there.
”You must have seen armies,” persisted the man, ”or you wouldn't hev knowed 'bout so many boys of fifteen or sixteen bein' in them.”
”I saw both the Federal and Confederate armies in Eastern Kentucky. My business took me near them, but I was always glad to get away from them, too.”
”I heard tell today that there was a big battle.”
”You heard right. It was fought near a little place called Mill Spring, and resulted in a complete victory for the Northern forces under General Thomas.”
”That was what I heard. It will be good news to some, an' bad news to others. 'Pears to me, Mr. Mason, that you can't fight a battle that will suit everybody.”
”I never heard of one that did.”
”An' never will, I reckon. Mighty good hoss that you're ridin'. I never seed one with better shoulders. My name's Leffingwell, Seth Leffingwell, an' I live here alone, 'ceptin' my old woman, Mandy. All we ask of people is to let us be. Lots of us in the mountain feel that way. Let them lowlanders shoot one another up ez long ez they please, but up here there ain't no slaves, an' there ain't nothin' else to fight about.”
The stable was a good one, better than usual in that country. d.i.c.k saw stalls for four horses, but no horses. They put his own horse in one of the stalls, and gave him corn and hay. Then they walked back to the house, and entered a large room, where a stalwart woman of middle age had just finished cooking supper.
”Whew, but the night's goin' to be cold,” said Leffingwell, as he shut the door behind them, and cut off an icy blast. ”It'll make the fire an' supper all the better. We're just plain mountain people, but you're welcome to the best we have. Ma, this is Mr. Mason, who has been on lan' business in the mountains, an' is back on his way to his home at Pendleton.”
Leffingwell's wife, a powerful woman, as large as her husband, and with a pleasant face, gave d.i.c.k a large hand and a friendly grasp.
”It's a good night to be indoors,” she said. ”Supper's ready, Seth. Will you an' the stranger set?”
She had placed the pine table in the middle of the room, and d.i.c.k noticed that it was large enough for five or six persons. He put his saddle bags and blankets in a corner and he and the man drew up chairs.
He had seldom beheld a more cheerful scene. In a great fireplace ten feet wide big logs roared and crackled. Corn cakes, vegetables, and two kinds of meat were cooking over the coals and a great pot of coffee boiled and bubbled. No candles had been lighted, but they were not needed. The flames gave sufficient illumination.