General Nelson's Scout 23
That night, the retreating army camped in a pine forest at the base of a
mountain. The night was cold and rainy. Black clouds swept across the
sky, the wind howled mournfully through the forest, and the cold
pitiless rain chilled to the bone. Huge fires were kindled, and around
them the men gathered to dry their streaming clothes and to warm their
benumbed limbs.
Just before the prisoners were made to lie down to sleep, the boy,
Robert Ferror, passed by Fred, and said in a low whisper:
"I will be on guard to-night. Keep awake! Lie down near the guard."
Fred's heart beat high. Was Robert Ferror going to aid him to escape? He
watched where the guard over the prisoners was stationed, and lay down
as close to him as possible. Soon he was apparently fast asleep, but he
was never wider awake. At eleven o'clock Robert Ferror came on guard. He
looked eagerly around, and Fred, to show him where he was slightly
raised his head. The boy smiled, and placed his finger on his lips.
Slowly Ferror paced his beat, to and fro. The minutes dragged slowly by.
Midnight came. The officer of the guard made his rounds. Ferror's answer
was, "All is well." Another half-hour passed; still he paced to and
fro. Fred's heart sank. After all, was Ferror to do nothing, or were his
words a hoax to raise false hopes? The camp had sunk to rest; the fires
were burning low. Then as Ferror passed Fred, he slightly touched him
with his foot. Instantly Fred was all alert. The next time Ferror passed
he stooped as if he had dropped something, and as he was fumbling on the
ground, whispered:
"Crawl back like a snake. About fifty yards to the rear is a large pine
tree. It is out of the range of the light of the fires. By it you will
find arms. Stay there until I come."
Again the sentinel paced to and fro. It would have taken a lynx's eye to
have noticed that one of the prisoners was missing, so silently had Fred
made his way back.
One o'clock came, and Ferror was relieved. Five, ten, fifteen minutes
passed, and still Fred was waiting. Had anything happened to Ferror?
there had been no alarm.
"I will wait a little longer," thought Fred, "and then if he does not
come, I will go by myself."
Soon a light footstep was heard, and Fred whispered, "Here."
A hand was stretched out, and Fred took it. It was as cold as death, and
shook like one with the palsy. "He is quaking with fear," thought Fred.
"Have you got the revolver and cartridge belt?" asked Ferror, in a
hoarse whisper.
"Yes."
"Then come." He still seemed to be quaking as with ague.
Silently Ferror led the way, Fred following. Slowly feeling their way
through the darkness, they had gone some distance when they were
suddenly commanded to halt.
"Who comes there?" asked a stern voice. Ferror gave a start of surprise,
and then answered:
"A friend with the countersign."
"Advance, friend, and give the countersign."
Ferror boldly advanced, leaned forward as if to whisper the word in the
ear of the guard. Then there was a flash, a loud report, and with a moan
the soldier sank to the ground.
"Come," shrieked Ferror, and Fred, horrified, sprang forward. Through
the woods, falling over rocks, running against trees, they dashed, until
at last they had to stop from sheer exhaustion.
The camp was in a wild commotion. Shouts and oaths filled the air. Men
were heard crashing through the forest, escaping as they thought from an
unseen foe. But when no attack came, and no other shot was heard, the
confusion and excitement began to abate, and every one was asking, "What
is it?" No one knew.
"The sound of the shot came from that direction," said the soldier who
had taken the place of Ferror as guard.
"There is where I stationed Drake," said the officer of the guard. "I
discovered a path leading up the mountain, and I concluded to post a
sentinel on it. Sergeant, make a detail, and come with me."
The detail was made, and they filed out in the darkness in the direction
that Drake was stationed.
"We must have gone far enough," said the officer. "It was about here I
stationed him. Drake! Drake!" There was no response.
"Strange!" said the officer. "It is not possible he has deserted, is
it?"
He was groping around when he stumbled over something on the ground. He
reached out his hand, and touched the lifeless body of Drake. A cry of
horror burst from him. The body was taken up and carried back to camp.
The officer bent over and examined it by the firelight.
"Shot through the heart," he muttered; "and, by heavens! his clothes are
powder burned. Drake was shot not by some prowler, but by some one
inside the lines. Sergeant, count the prisoners."
The prisoners, who had all been aroused by the commotion, were huddled
together, quaking with fear.
The sergeant soon reported: "Lieutenant, there is one missing; the boy
in citizen's clothes."
Colonel Williams, who had been looking on with stern countenance, now
asked:
"Who was guarding the prisoners?" The colonel's tones were low and
ominous.
"Scott, sir," replied the sergeant of the guard.
"Scott, here!" Poor Scott came trembling in every limb.
"Colonel," said Scott, shaking so he could hardly talk, "before God, I
know nothing about the escape of the prisoner. I had not been on guard
more than ten or fifteen minutes before the shot was fired. Up to that
time, not a prisoner had stirred."
"Did you notice the boy?"
"No, Colonel, I did not. I do not know whether he escaped before I came
on guard or after the alarm. The sergeant will bear me witness that
during the alarm I stayed at my post and kept the prisoners from
escaping. The boy might have slipped away in the confusion, but I do not
think he did."
"Whom did you relieve?" asked the colonel.
"Robert Ferror."
"Call Ferror."
The sergeant soon returned with the information that Ferror could not be
found.
The colonel bit his lip. He cast his eye over the group of officers
standing around him, and then suddenly asked: "Where is Captain Bascom?"
The officers looked blank, then inquiringly into each other's faces. No
one had seen him during or since the alarm.
The sergeant of the guard hurriedly went to a rude tent where the
captain slept. Pulling aside a blanket which served as a door he entered
the tent. A moment, and he reappeared with face as white as a sheet.
"He is dead!" his ashen lips shaped the words, but they died away in a
gurgle in his throat.
Captain Bascom had been stabbed through the heart.
The whole turmoil in camp was heard by Fred and Robert Ferror, as they
stood panting for breath. Fred shuddered as the horrified cry of the
officer of the day was borne to his ears when he stumbled on the dead
body of the guard. The boys were bruised and bleeding, and their
clothing was torn in shreds from their flight through the forest.
"It is all right now," said Ferror. "They can never find us in the
darkness, but some of the frightened fools may come as far as this; so
we had better be moving."
The boys slowly and painfully worked their way up the mountain, and at
last the roar of the camp was no longer heard. They came to a place
where the jutting rocks formed a sort of a cave, keeping out the rain,
and the ground and leaves were comparatively dry. The place was also
sheltered from the wind.
"Let us stay here," said Fred, "until it gets a little light. We can
then more easily make our way. We are entirely out of danger for
to-night."
To this Ferror assented, and the two boys crept as far back as they
could and snuggled down close together. Fred noticed that Ferror still
trembled, and that his hands were still as cold as ice.
The storm had ceased, but the wind sobbed and moaned through the trees
like a thing of life, sighing one moment like a person in anguish, and
then wailing like a lost soul. An owl near by added its solemn hootings
to the already dismal night. Fred felt Ferror shudder and try to creep
still closer to him. Both boys remained silent for a long time, but at
length Fred said:
"Ferror, shooting that sentinel was awful. I had almost rather have
remained a prisoner. It was too much like murder."
"I did not know the sentinel was there," answered Ferror, "or I could
have avoided him. As it was, it had to be done. It was a case of life or
death. Fred, do you know who the sentinel was?"
"No."
"It was Drake; I saw his face by the flash of my pistol, just for a
second, but it was enough. God! I can see it now," and he shuddered.
"Fred, do you despise me? You know I helped you to escape."
"No, Ferror; if I had been in your place, I might have done the same,
but that would have made it none the less horrible."
"Fred, you will despise me; but I must tell you."
"Tell what?"
"Drake is not the first man I have killed to-night."
Fred sprang up and involuntarily drew away from him. "Ferror! Ferror!
What do you mean?"
"After I was relieved from guard, and before I joined you, I stabbed
Captain Bascom through the heart."
A low cry of horror escaped Fred's lips.
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