The Courier of the Ozarks

by Byron A. Dunn

  CHAPTER VII

  POINDEXTER CAPTURED

  Hundreds of the guerrillas who had been with Porter worked their waysouth to join Poindexter, and that chieftain found himself at the headof a force of from a thousand to fifteen hundred men. That part ofPorter's force that had joined Poindexter had been closely followed by aportion of McNeil's force, among them a hundred of the Merrill Horse.With them came Lawrence and Harry with Bruno.

  When they reached Mexico, Lawrence found a dispatch waiting him fromGeneral Schofield, which filled him with amazement. It stated that hehad received a communication, apparently from the same hand that hadsent the first communication to him (Lawrence), in May, which revealedthe plot of the partisan uprising. This communication stated that alarge body of troops was moving up from Arkansas to cooeperate with theguerrillas, the object being to capture Independence and Lexington, andthat the movement was a month later than expected, but now it was wellunder way.

  "I am not satisfied," wrote General Schofield, "with the way theofficers in that district are meeting the emergency, and I want you togo there immediately and report to me the full situation."

  Lawrence reluctantly bade Harry and Bruno good-bye, and he and Danstarted for their new field of work, where we will leave them for atime, and follow the adventures of Harry.

  Poindexter and Cobb had now come back into the territory that wascommanded by Colonel Guitar. That officer had fully recovered from hissickness, and, hastily collecting a force of five hundred men, hestarted in pursuit of Poindexter.

  Harry and his dog were now so well known that Guitar placed him incommand of a small body of scouts. They were dressed as guerrillas, andthey certainly looked and acted the part.

  Poindexter had expected to join Porter in his retreat north, at or nearKirksville, but he had been attacked and driven back by a force underGeneral Ben Loan, thus preventing the union which Porter and Poindexterhad planned.

  Poindexter was now hiding in the woods and thickets along the Chariton,and numerous guerrilla bands were flocking to his standard.

  It was Colonel Guitar's business to find him and scatter his forcesbefore they became too strong; and to find him Guitar could employ nobetter means than Harry and Bruno.

  For his companions, Harry had chosen five boys, ranging in age fromeighteen to twenty, all native Missourians, skilled in woodcraft,accustomed to firearms, and all burning to avenge themselves on theguerrillas, for all had suffered terrible wrongs at their hands.

  Just as Harry was about to start on his scout, a boy by the name of JackHarwood came to him and begged to be allowed to be one of the party. Hewas about eighteen years of age, of slender build, but as wiry andactive as a cat. His face bore a rather sad expression, for his fatherhad been shot down in cold blood by some of Porter's gang; the house hadbeen burned over his mother's head, and she had died a few days laterfrom shock and exposure. Fortunately for Jack, he was not at home at thetime, or he would have shared his father's fate.

  Jack buried his mother, bade farewell to his ruined home, and enlisted.He seemed never to tire, and was never as happy as when he was huntingguerrillas. He was brave to recklessness, and early in the service hadbeen promoted to a sergeantcy in his company.

  Harry looked him over and told him he would see what he could do. Theeyes of the boy glowed with a fierce flame as he told Harry of hiswrongs. It was so much like his own story that Harry's heart went outtowards him.

  Colonel Guitar readily granted Harry's request that Harwood might beadded to his force, and so Harry found himself at the head of six young,adventuresome and daring scouts.

  Harry's orders were to locate Poindexter, but keep in touch with thecolumn as much as possible.

  No sooner were they away from the command than Harry halted and said:"Boys, I must make you acquainted with Bruno, so he may make nomistake."

  The great dog was called, and he came and stood before his master,wagging his tail and looking up in his eyes, as if to say, "What is it?"

  "Bruno, this is Jack Harwood. He is all right."

  Bruno smelled Jack, gave a short yelp and, lifting one of his paws,offered it to him. The boy shook it with wonder and delight.

  Bruno was then introduced to each of the scouts, and they seemed to passmuster, for to each one he offered his paw.

  "Good," exclaimed Harry. "Bruno will now know any one of you amongthousands, and you will find him the most valuable member of the squad."

  Harry rode to the northwest, for he knew it was in that directionPoindexter was rallying his forces. The country through which theypassed seemed to be terror-stricken. But few men were seen, and theywere old. The women gazed at them with scared eyes as they passed, andlittle children would run and hide, or peer at them around the cornersof the houses with frightened faces.

  To questions asked, both men and women were noncommittal. They knewnothing. They were the first guerrillas they had seen for days. As forYankee soldiers, they knew of none nearer than the towns where they weregarrisoned.

  Towards evening Bruno gave warning of foes ahead. Soon a party of tenmen rode in sight, manifestly guerrillas.

  "Let me do the talking, boys," Harry said, "but be sure and sanctioneverything I say; and be ready to fight at the word, if necessary. Foryour life, don't let them get the drop on you. At the first suspiciousaction, draw and fire."

  The scouts did not seem loath to have a little skirmish. They loosenedthe revolvers in their holsters, and remarked they were ready.

  "Bruno," said Harry, "I don't want them to see you. Go and hide, anddon't come till I whistle."

  The dog slunk into the woods that grew along the road, and in atwinkling was out of sight. The scouts marvelled. "Why, he is human,"said one.

  "Almost, but not quite, about some things," answered Harry.

  The band of guerrillas had seen them, and halted, and were scanning themcarefully, as if debating whether to advance or not.

  "They seem to be a little afraid," laughed Harry. "Let's ride leisurelyforward, as if satisfied."

  As they approached, the guerrillas made a movement as if to raise theirguns, but evidently thought better of it, and sat still to await theircoming, but with hands on the butts of their revolvers.

  "Hello, boys; whar yo' uns goin'?" called out Harry, as he came up. "Theway yo' uns act, yo' uns must think we' uns air Yanks."

  "Who be yo' uns, an' whar be yo' uns goin'?" the leader asked, scowling.

  "We' uns? We' uns air from Franklin County. We' uns was a little tooclose to St. Louis to be healthy for sich fellers as we' uns, so wereckoned we' uns would come over and join Poindexter. Do yo' uns knowwhar we' uns can find him?"

  "Don't know an' don't care," growled the leader. "Yo' uns had bettercome with we' uns. Had enough of stand-up fightin'! We' uns was withPorter at Kirksville, and got hell kicked out of us."

  Harry now learned that they were a part of Porter's band; that after hislast defeat Porter had advised his men to break into small parties andmake their way back to their old haunts, where they could rally if heneeded them. They could be nice, peaceable citizens until he wanted themagain. It was more fun harassing and robbing Union men and surprisingsmall parties of Yanks than it was to face the enemy in an open battle.

  "I tell yo' uns," added the leader, shrugging his shoulders, "it's nofun facing them rotten balls. They skeer a feller."

  "Why didn't yo' uns lick 'em?" asked Harry.

  "Lick 'em? Say, young feller, Did yo' un ever face the Merrill Hoss?"

  "No; but the boys heah reckon they would like to have the chance."

  "Ha! ha!" laughed the guerrillas. "Wall, go on and join Poindexter, an'yo' uns may have a chance. See how you like it after the Merrill Hossgits a whack at yo' uns," and, laughing and jesting, they rode on.

  When the guerrillas were first met, Jack Harwood gave a start ofsurprise, and a look of fierce passion swept over his face. He suddenlypulled his slouch hat down so as to hide his features, turned and keptas far away as he could without excit
ing suspicion.

  When the guerrillas had gone, he rode up to Harry, his eyes blazing, andhis whole body trembling with suppressed excitement.

  "I know two of those fellows," he exclaimed, "They were with the gangthat murdered father. One of them was the one that fired the house.Mother knew them. There were six of them, and I know every one. I havesworn to get the whole six, and I will if I live."

  The look of hatred on his face made Harry shiver, but he knew how hefelt; so had he felt when he saw his father lying dead before him.

  "I had all I could do to keep from shooting them while they were talkingto you," continued Jack. "It makes me feel like a coward to let such achance go."

  "It would have been madness, Jack. Then, we are not out to fight if wecan avoid it, but to get information. Never let your passion lead you todo a foolish thing."

  Jack said no more, but fell back in the rear.

  It was almost night, and Harry decided to go into camp, as he had notlearned the exact whereabouts of Poindexter.

  Suddenly some one asked, "Where is Jack Harwood?"

  Harry looked. He was nowhere to be seen.

  "Does any one know anything about him?" he asked, anxiously.

  One of the men said: "Jack stopped just after the guerrillas left us. Hesaid the girth of his saddle was loose, and he would have to fix it. Ithought no more about him, and as I have been riding in front, I did notnotice he was not with us."

  Could Jack have been captured by lurking guerrillas? They would go backand see. It would not do to leave a comrade in peril. If Jack had beencaptured, Bruno would have little trouble in following the trail. It wasnot more than two miles back to the place where the soldier had seenJack dismount to fix his saddle girth, but there was no sign of astruggle there; no evidence that any guerrilla had been lying in ambush.But by the side of the road there were tracks of where a horse had beenturned and ridden back.

  "By heavens!" exclaimed one of the men, "Jack has deserted. Don't youremember one of those guerrillas said they lived in Ralls County?--andJack is from Ralls."

  The other men began to swear. "If we ever catch him," they muttered,with clenched fists.

  "Hold on, boys," ejaculated Harry; "Jack has not deserted, but he hasgone, and gone alone, on one of the maddest adventures that ever singleman set out to do."

  Then he told them of what Jack had said, and added: "No doubt he hasgone back to try and get those men."

  "Let's go back and try to help him!" exclaimed the squad in unison.

  Harry shook his head. "No, boys," he said; "and if you wish to continuewith me, you must promise me that you will not leave under anyconditions whatever, without my consent. We are soldiers. We are underorders, and those orders are to find Poindexter. To try and find Jackwould lead us we know not where, and bring the whole object of our scoutto naught."

  The men saw, and turned back; but with heavy hearts, for their thoughtswere with Jack.

  The scouts went into camp not far from a substantial farmhouse, and theoccupants were a little more communicative than common, especially whenHarry told them to set up a good meal for them, and he would pay for it,saying they had captured some Yankee money.

  Their mouths being open, Harry found they had a son with Poindexter, andhe had left home only that morning. They had heard the son sayPoindexter was preparing to attack some place. They thought it wasColumbia, but were not sure.

  Harry made his camp in the edge of a wood, a field in front. A roughroad ran through the wood, a short distance in the rear. If danger came,it would be by that road that Harry calculated to retreat. They were torest till three o'clock, then up and away. Harry knew that with Bruno onguard there would be no surprise, but he could not rest. He was thinkingof Jack Harwood.

  About eleven o'clock, to Harry's surprise, Harwood made his appearance."If it hadn't been for Bruno," he said, "I would never have found you.He met me down the road a ways, and guided me here."

  "Where have you been?" asked Harry.

  "Where have I been?" he answered, slowly. "On private business. I willtell you about it in the morning."

  "You must promise never again to leave without permission, or this isyour last scout with me," said Harry, sternly.

  Jack did not answer. He turned to care for his horse.

  When Jack stopped, under the pretence of fixing the girth of his saddle,it was with the fixed purpose, come what would, of following thoseguerrillas and killing the men who had helped murder his father. Had henot taken a solemn oath to kill them on sight? He did not stop to thinkhow he could accomplish his purpose--of the danger of the undertaking.He only knew he had seen the men; that was enough. He would track them,if necessary, to the ends of the earth. As it was, fate favored him.

  The guerrillas, all unconscious that Nemesis was on their track, rode onuntil dusk, when they stopped at a fine plantation, and roughly orderedsupper and feed for their horses.

  Mr. Rice, the owner of the plantation, was a hot Southern sympathizer,but he did not relish his present company. He felt like kicking them outof doors, but he knew it would not do to refuse them, so he made thebest of it, and ordered supper prepared.

  It was a good supper, and, in the highest of spirits, nine of theguerrillas sat down; the tenth was on guard. But he did not notice asilent figure creeping up to the window of the room in which the restwere dining.

  Suddenly there was a sharp report, a crash of glass, and one of thediners sprang to his feet and fell backward, shot through the brain. Atthe same time a voice rang through the room. "Remember Thomas Harwood,Number One. Let the other five beware!"

  At the sound of the shot and the fall of their comrade, the otherguerrillas sat as if stunned for a moment; then with cries of terrorthey rushed from the house, thinking a Yankee force was on them; but asingle shot, and excited cries from the sentinel, were all that theyheard.

  Before the attack, the sentinel had seen or heard nothing, butafterwards he had caught a glimpse of a dim figure fleeing up the road.He had fired, but there was no response to his shot.

  When told what the voice had said, he turned pale and trembled. "MyGod!" he exclaimed, "it must have been Jack Harwood, Tom Harwood's son.There were six of us who put a quietus on that old Abolitionist. I heardthe boy took a terrible oath he would never rest until he got the wholesix. After that we lay for the boy, but he gave us the slip and went inthe Yankee army. So, poor Ben is done for. He was one of the six. Mybeing on guard is all that saved me. But whar did the boy come from? Howdid he know we' uns was heah?"

  This question greatly puzzled the guerrillas, until one of them spoke:"I reckon them seven fellers we' uns met was Yanks. That Harwood boymust have been one of them. He saw you two fellers, and follered we' unsheah, and got poor Ben."

  "Boys, I'll never feel easy as long as Jack Harwood lives," said the onewho had escaped. "That boy is a devil. That's nine of us--only seven ofthem. Let's turn back and take them by surprise. We' uns can shoot themup."

  It was agreed to, and so the guerrillas turned back.

  After the return of Jack, Harry had lain down for a time, but could notsleep. He knew something had happened, but could not imagine what itwas. Surely, Jack had not engaged the guerrillas single-handed. But hewould have to wait until morning to know. Just as he was sinking intosleep, Bruno caught him by the shoulder and shook him. He was on hisfeet in a second.

  Everything seemed quiet, and the guard said he had heard nothing, butBruno showed by his actions everything was not right.

  "Arouse the boys," said Harry; "something is in the wind."

  The scouts were aroused, but nothing could be discovered. Everythingseemed quiet and asleep.

  "Jeffreys," said Harry to one of the men, "creep down towards the houseand see if any mischief is going on down there. Be careful; keep in theshadow of the fence, and get back as quickly as possible."

  Jeffreys was gone nearly half an hour and Harry was beginning to getalarmed, when he came back. He had a startling story to tell. He hadcrept up
nearly to the house and found the yard full of men and horses.The nine guerrillas had come back and stopped at the house to makeinquiries.

  "The villain who lives there," continued Jeffreys, "told them all aboutwhere we were camped and the best way to surprise us. They were makingarrangements to creep up on us when I thought it time to come back. Iheard them talk of some one of our number who had killed one of theirmen. What did they mean?"

  "Never mind now," answered Harry. "Let's get ready to give them a warmreception. We know just how many there are, and they are the ones whowill be surprised."

  It was a warm reception they got. Harry let them come almost up to thembefore he gave the signal to fire. First the carbines, then therevolver, had been his order.

  In a minute all was over. Stunned by the reception they received, thosewho had not been killed or wounded beat a hasty retreat. Investigationshowed three of the guerrillas dead and three more desperately wounded.The wounded were carried to the farmhouse to be cared for.

  Among the dead was the one who had stood guard. Jack gazed at him amoment in silence and then muttered, "Number Two, but who killed him?"

  Jack now told Harry how he had followed the guerrillas and shot one.

  Harry listened in silence and then said, "Jack, I know how you feel. Ionce felt the same way, until Captain Middleton taught me better. Hesays this is a war of principles, not against individuals. That it issimply murder to kill for private wrongs."

  "Wrong to kill guerrillas?" asked Jack in surprise.

  "Yes, the way you did. In killing Ben Storms you had no idea of aidingthe great cause for which we are fighting. You did it for revenge. Indoing it you put yourself on the same plane as the man you killed."

  "Why, you have just helped me in killing several. What's thedifference?" asked Jack in astonishment.

  "We killed those men in battle, and to save our own lives. Thedifference is great. If I had cruelly killed those wounded men insteadof taking them to the house to be cared for, that would have beenmurder, not warfare."

  A thought came to Harry and he asked, "Jack, if that other man whohelped kill your father had been only wounded and not killed, what wouldyou have done?"

  Jack hung his head and whispered, "Killed him."

  "I thought so, I would have done the same to a man who helped kill myfather if it had not been for Captain Middleton. I have learned better,and now thank him for it. Jack, promise me you will never leave thecommand again without my permission."

  Jack made the promise, but was rather doubtful as to the expediency ofsparing the life of a guerrilla guilty of murder.

  Owing to the fight it was well along in the morning before the scoutsstarted. They had not gone over two miles before they met a man ridingrapidly. To him they told the story of going to join Poindexter.

  "Better go to Switzler's Mill," he said. "Poindexter starts for therethis morning. I left him not over six hours ago. I'm on my way to tryand rally some of Porter's men to come to his assistance."

  "Is that so?" dryly answered Harry. "You had better come with us. Youare just the man we've been looking for." And to the fellow's amazement,he found himself a prisoner.

  "Now, boys," cried Harry, gleefully, "back to Guitar, I've found out allI want to know."

  Horse flesh was not spared, and Guitar was found about noon, his columnon the march. To him Harry told the news, and with all speed the head ofthe column was turned towards Switzler's Mill.

  Now commenced a chase that lasted for seven days and did not end untilthe command had ridden two hundred and fifty miles over the roughest ofroads.

  Poindexter turned and twisted like a fox. There was no fight in his men;they ran like a pack of frightened coyotes at the first crack of a gun.

  Guitar struck him at Switzler's Mill and scattered his force like chaff.Hot on Poindexter's trail the tireless troopers clung. Horses sufferedmore than the men. Scores fell by the roadside and died of exhaustion.

  At Little Compton Poindexter was once more brought to bay, and, scarcelyfiring a shot; he fled, leaving behind his trains, most of hisammunition, several hundred stands of arms, and five hundred horses.

  His army was now little more than a fleeing mob. Once more he was struckat the Muscle Fork of the Chariton. Many of his men were drowned tryingto get across the stream.

  With only four hundred followers out of the fifteen hundred he had atthe beginning, Poindexter fled westward. Guitar could follow no farther.Men and horses were exhausted.

  In this remarkable campaign Guitar states that he lost only five menwounded, while he estimates that at least one hundred and fifty of theenemy were killed and drowned, and he had captured one hundred men and athousand horses and mules.

  Poindexter's misfortunes were not ended. As he fled west and south theremnant of his force was struck by General Ben Loan and totallydispersed, every guerrilla seeking his own safety. Poindexter foundhimself a wanderer without a single follower.

  Disguising himself he skulked in the woods and found shelter in thehouses of friends, but tireless on his path were Harry and his scouts.From covert to covert and from house to house they trailed him and atlast ran him down.

  They entered a house where an apparently sick man sat cowering in acorner, wrapped in a blanket. With a snarl Bruno was about to springupon him when Harry stopped him, and going up to the man said, "The jigis up, Poindexter. You're not half as sick as you pretend."

  With a groan and a curse the guerrilla chieftain yielded himself aprisoner.