CHAPTER XI.
_The Prison—The Wheel-room—Caged_ _The Life and Death Struggle._
WE left Miss Hayward in the little boat, in the custody of Walker andstupid Dick. For several hours they sped rapidly onward with the stream.They encountered the party of rebels of which we have made mention, but,as Walker, or Colonel Brown, was the officer highest in rank, no oneattempted to interfere with his project. The boat kept its course untilit came upon a broad flat which appeared to be some five or six miles inlength, and perhaps one in breadth. This, Walker informed Miss Hayward,was the “Valley of Bohannan!”
“And,” said he, “your brother is confined in yonder mill!”
Miss Hayward gazed a moment upon the structure, and then burst forth inthe same wild strain she had sung so frequently during her boat voyage.
“It is folly for you to attempt to attract his notice by your voice. Heis a close prisoner and a maniac, and nothing but your constant presenceand attention will ever cause his reason to return!”
“What do you intend to do with him and myself?” asked Miss Hayward.
“I intend to take you to your brother. I intend to let you see him in awretched garret, with no hope of recovery, or of even life, unless youcome to his aid. I intend to permit you to _gaze_ upon this scene, butnot even to speak with your brother, or to assist him in any manner,until you are my wife. Then you shall be free to attend to all hiswants, to provide for his comfort, to restore him to reason, to life andto liberty.”
Miss Hayward bent her head upon her hands and wept.
“I will not ask for your final decision now!” continued Walker. “I willwait until you have seen your brother, which will be in a few moments.”
The boat was drawn to the shore, and Walker, turning to Dick, said:
“I will dispense with you now. Go to Joe’s farm. Follow my instructionsas to storing the house with provisions, and at least one comfortablebed. Miss Hayward, it is a beautiful place of which I speak, and, incase of your refusal to perform all that I wish voluntarily, or to saveyour brother, I shall be compelled to take advantage of a friend’smansion, in case I can not effect my escape with you to Arkansas. This Idoubt being able to do, and more, I don’t know that I shall run therisk, as I am only a subordinate, and some of my superiors _might_ orderyour release. You perceive that I intend to make sure of my prize nowthat she is in my keeping. As my wife she will be permitted all properliberty, but until you are such, by your own voluntary act, I must keepyou safely from approach by any one.”
Dick had left his master. Walker and Miss Hayward arrived at the log-hutadjoining the mill, and entered it. Old Madge was there, but she lookedpale and frightened.
“Come here, Madge. What is the matter?” asked Walker.
“The devil’s broke loose!” replied Madge, trembling violently.
“Come, don’t be alarmed; I am Walker. I am the one who sent you thehundred dollars to keep the man safely. You have done so, I hope.”
“He has just broke loose, and run into the woods.”
“How did that happen?”
“Oh, he heard a voice singing outside, and, in his fever-delirium, saidit was an angel calling him to heaven, and he burst from his room andrushed up yonder.”
Walker and the old woman conversed together in undertones for a fewmoments, when he turned to Miss Hayward and said:
“Your brother, in his delirium, broke his chains, and is at large in themountains. He will not return here, and I think it doubtful if I canfind him. He will, most likely, make his way to the Federal camps. But,come with me; you shall see where he was confined, and then learn myfurther intentions.”
Walker seized the unresisting maiden by the arm, and drew her into themill. Up the dirty stairs she went, and finally entered the room, orattic, where the unfortunate brother had been detained prisoner. Sheshuddered as she gazed around her.
“Now,” said Walker, “I will show you _your_ room—one you shall occupyuntil you are Mrs. Colonel Brown.”
He drew her still further on, and opened a massive door, which gratedupon its hinges. She gazed in. It was a small apartment into which thecarpenter usually entered when he wished to repair the great water-wheelwhich set the mill in motion. This room, or rather aperture, was ofconstruction unlike any apartment intended for occupancy. There was aplatform about ten feet in width, which formed the only flooring. Then agreat opening beyond, through which the main wheel extended upward abouteight or ten feet, entirely filling the opening in the floor. Any manconfined in this apartment would find little difficulty in effecting hisescape, provided he was an expert swimmer, and the mill not in motion.But the manner in which an escape must be effected would be as follows:
When the mill was running, the wheel being then in motion, the water wasthrown in large quantities in every part of the room, and its inmatecould scarcely prevent drowning by catching his breath at intervals. Toattempt to spring into the wheel—which was formed something like thewheel of a wagon, the rim, or tire, however, being about twenty feet inbreadth, with crevices, or brackets, for catching the water whichpropelled it, and the braces answering as spokes bearing proportion tothe rim—would almost assuredly be dashed in pieces in the attempt togain the interior. But, once there, he would be whirled round and rounduntil he could gather his energies for a jump when that portion of thewheel in which he was perched was _down_, or nearest the bed of thestream. To leap out _into_ the river would be a task equally perilous tothat of springing in. When the wheel was _not_ in motion, one could stepinto the opening, slide down the rim with great ease, spring into thewater, and gain the shore in a moment.
Miss Hayward gazed into this room or vault with a fainting, sickeningsensation; but she did not speak. It appeared as if hope had almost lefther heart, now that she found her brother gone, and she nerved herselffor any fate that might overtake her.
* * * * *
It was, as we have stated, late in the afternoon before the rebelsencamped around the stack where Nettleton and Fall-leaf were secreted,took their departure, and up to that time the two faithful pursuers wereunable to venture forth. At last all was safe, and they emerged fromtheir concealment, and gazed around them. No living person was to beseen. A meal was hastily prepared, after partaking of which they resumedtheir journey at a rapid rate. All night they plodded along, taking careto see that no _mill_ was passed upon the route. As the morning dawned,they found themselves in an open space of considerable extent, and closeby the stream was a mill. This was carefully examined in every nook andcorner; but nothing was found. They made inquiry of a woman living in acabin near the spot, and learned that, a mile further on, was anothermill of larger dimensions, belonging to one Bohannan. For this placethey immediately bent their steps. Arriving, they were met by old Madge,who immediately commenced her mummeries in order to divert theirattention. The Indian gazed upon her a moment, as if half in awe, andhalf in fear, but Nettleton did not pause, and exclaimed:
“Come along, Ingen; I expect here’s the place.”
They entered the mill. The Indian remained at the door to prevent anyegress, while Nettleton commenced his search. Up and down, high and low,the search was prosecuted.
Walker being then within, had observed the approach of Nettleton and theIndian. His first impulse was to fire upon them; but he knew if his aimproved inaccurate he might then bid adieu to life, and so he resolved toresort to stratagem. He seized Miss Hayward and sprung into a wheat-bin,close by the door of the wheel-room we have described. He soon buriedhimself and his prisoner among a lot of old bags, husks and refuse, andcautioned her to remain quiet, as a band of Kansas cut-throats, whoregarded neither the life or person of a pretty woman, were at hand.This had the effect to keep Miss Hayward quiet.
Nettleton had completed his search. The lower floor of the mill had beencarefully scrutinized—its closets, its bins—except the small one nearthe wheel-room, w
hich had escaped his notice.
“I wonder if there is any thing under the mill?” queried Nettleton.“I’ll call, and see if that does any good. Captain! Captain Hayward!”
The voice was at once recognized by Miss Hayward, who vainly struggledto reply; but Walker held a handkerchief so tightly over her mouth thatshe could produce no sound. At length, by a desperate effort, sheremoved his hand and shrieked:
“Here, William! here!”
“Where? where?” cried William, as he sprung toward the bin.
“_In the wheel-room!_” yelled Walker, smothering his voice so far as todrown the exact direction in which it came.
Nettleton bounded into the wheel-room, closely followed by the Indian,who now supposed their friends to be found. Quick as lightning Walkersprung from the bin, and slammed the door upon them, bolting itsecurely. He then started for the mill-gate, which, being hoisted, wouldset the large wheel in motion.
As soon as the door was closed upon Nettleton, he rightly suspectedtreachery, and throwing himself with all his violence against the door,tried to force it. But in vain.
“Quick, Ingen; jump into the mill-wheel, and down into the water!”
They were about to adopt this plan of escape, when the wheel startedwith great rapidity, rendering it seemingly impossible to do so.
“Now,” yelled Walker, as he seized Miss Mamie and bore her from themill, “you shall see the folly of opposing me! You shall see how Itriumph over _all_ obstacles, and how those who oppose me perish!”
Inside of the mill, and near the door, was a quantity of hay andunthreshed grain, stored there for use by some neighboring farmer orguerrilla. Striking a match, Walker lit the inflammable material. In amoment it blazed high, and communicated with the woodwork. Walker onlywaited to see this, and then, almost dragging Miss Hayward along, hereached the river, drew the boat into the stream, and was once morefloating with the current.
“Look, Miss Mamie, is not that a lovely sight?” he cried, pointing tothe mill, now thoroughly enveloped in flames. “Nettleton is there, andFall-leaf is there, and they have been brought there by _you_. They willperish in those flames, and you must be responsible for their murder.When will you learn that it is useless to oppose me, and cease to do so?To submit to my proper and honorable requests is the only way you cansave your friends.”
When Nettleton and Fall-leaf found their mode of escape thus cut off,they naturally turned to each other for advice. But the water thrownfrom the wheel so blinded and choked them that they could not holdconversation at all. It was not long before our prisoners became awareof the fact that, however disagreeable the water might be, they werelikely to be visited by an element, and that very soon, far moredisagreeable, under the present circumstances. The flames were seizingupon every part of the mill, and all around them soon became a mass oflurid, destroying light. The rafters, flooring and upper work threatenedto fall at any moment. Still the room in which our friends were confinedremained unscathed, surrounded as it was by water. But, it must soonyield to the fiery element. The wheel still moved; yet it seemed as ifits speed was somewhat lessened. At length Nettleton yelled:
“Ingen, I’m going; take your chances!”
With a bound he sprung into the wheel. He escaped any severe blow, but,upon alighting he was tossed, and pitched, and tumbled over, until atlast, catching upon the centre-bar, he held himself until he had madehis calculation as to where his next jump should be. At last he venturedthe hazardous leap, and was precipitated into the foaming waters beneaththe wheel, which in its revolution struck him lightly, calling forth agrumble or a grunt. But Nettleton battled bravely with the rushingwaters, and at length, half dead with suffocation, he crawled upon thebank as the burning rafters of the mill were falling around him.
“Wal, I suppose Ingen is roasted alive, and I must do the work alone.I’m darn sorry. And I’ve lost my gun, too. But I ought to be glad that Ididn’t lose myself. The villain, but won’t I roast him if ever I laythese hands on him!”
Thus he muttered as he sat for a moment gazing upon the appallingspectacle before him. He then sprung up, and seeing the old woman, atonce started for the cabin. Madge met him at the door.
“Will you have my services, to tell you truly the fortune that is instore for you?” she asked.
“Your services. Yaas; I’ll have you tell me all about affairs here inthis quarter, and if you don’t own up every thing, I’ll put you in thispile of logs and roast you, as sure as you are a she woman. Do youunderstand?”
“I have but little to reveal of the circumstances to which you refer.The Federal officer _was_ in the mill a prisoner, but escaped, in hisdelirium, and is now somewhere out in the mountain. Walker and the ladywere in the mill, but are now out of reach, down stream. This is all Iknow.”
“And it is enough. Now, you just fork over a good Minié musket—I knowyou have a dozen concealed here for the use of your friends, and all thefixins for settlin’ the hash of your friend, Captain Walker, for him andme has an account to fix what will require powder and lead, if thisbread-cutter of mine don’t do the job,” he said, handling hisbowie-knife.
Madge only too well read in Nettleton’s face the resolute nature of theman, and with scarcely a moment’s hesitancy went out of the hut to ahollow tree near by, and produced from thence an armful of arms, made upof shot-guns, old-fashioned rifles, and a Minié musket. From theseNettleton selected, after careful scrutiny, a heavy double-barrelsquirrel gun. Ammunition was also supplied by the woman withouthesitancy, and the pursuer soon found himself equipped in a mostformidable manner.
“There, old gal, you have done the right thing. It is well that you did,for, as sure as lizards, I should have burned you in your pen if youhadn’t forked over what I know’d was in your possession. Now, good-by,and behave yourself. If the captain—my captain I mean—comes back to you,do you be kind to him, for I tell _you_ it is for your best interests tobe so. Do you believe that?”
“I believe any thing you say,” replied the old creature, betraying heranxiety to get rid of her visitor.
“You do, eh? Well, jist keep on thinking so, for I shall, mayhap, wantto use you again some of these days. So good-by, and keep your eyesclean.”
With this injunction he started again for the river, following thestream for some distance, but finally, for some reason best known tohimself, took to the mountains. Every few moments he would pause andlisten, as if a faint sound met his ears, and then continue his journey.
After Nettleton had escaped from the mill, Fall-leaf began to lookaround for some other means of escape. He felt sure that Nettleton’sleap must be a fatal one—that, if he was not dashed to pieces by thewheel, he would surely be drowned in the rushing waters. All chance ofescape for the poor Indian appeared quite as hopeless. The flames werealready hissing around him, and curling up the sides of hisprison-house. The fire had weakened the boards, and, just as the flameswere coiling around his form, he made a desperate effort, and burst thesiding from the mill. In an instant he sprung through the aperture,although the fiery element presented a formidable obstacle betweenhimself and safety. He alighted, however, with only a few slightbruises, and, waiting for nothing, bounded forward. He knew if Walkerhad continued his journey down the river, he could soon overtake him.For an hour he did not slacken his pace, and finally, in turning a shortbend in the river, he beheld the boat.
He was about to dash forward to the rescue of Miss Hayward, but heremembered that he had no gun, his only weapon being his sheath-knife,while Walker was well armed. He must resort to stratagem. His object wasto watch for opportunity, and when Walker should land, or when the boatneared the shore, and the thicket favored the movement, to spring uponhim suddenly, and drive the knife to his heart. But the river graduallygrew wider, and Walker kept his boat in the center, too far distant fromshore for any attempt for his seizure to prove successful. All that dayand all the night following, the boat drifted on with the stream. It wasevident Walker was anxious to reach a certain point as
quickly aspossible.
The morning dawned just as the little craft shot past the ford on theRolla turnpike, near the “ghost swamp,” a locality of weird interest andnovel character. Walker was about to land, near a small farm-house whichstood behind a jutting hill, entirely concealed from the main road, butbefore touching the shore, his quick eye caught sight of a dark formcreeping cautiously along the bank. At the same moment he discoveredthree horses tied in a thicket only a short distance from the house.Whether they belonged to friend or foe he could not tell; but the factof seeing the creeping form rendered him cautious, and he immediatelypulled for the opposite shore, where he landed.
“Are you friend or foe to the Confederates?” shouted Walker, from theopposite side of the stream.
There was no response.
“That cursed Dick must have betrayed me,” he muttered. “But, I willmatch them yet. Come!”
He dragged Miss Hayward along up the mountain steep. At length hereached a point of rock which extended far over the valley below. Anarrow footway, not more than ten inches in width, forming a kind ofshelf in the rock, led into an immense cavern, which is known in thatregion as the “Silver Cave.” Just in front of this cave was a large,flat rock, forming an overhanging platform, but to reach this, or themouth of the cave, required great care, as the narrow path was the onlymanner in which an entrance or exit could be effected. Into this placeWalker conveyed Miss Hayward.
Walker had, when meeting the rebels two days before, provided his boatwell with provisions. These he conveyed with him into the cavern.
He had not observed, however, that he was followed closely, and that theIndian arrived at the narrow passageway just as the rebel and hisprisoner entered the cave. This was so. The Indian crept up as closelyas possible, and peered over the projecting point which shut Walker fromhis view. He was observed.
“And who are you?” yelled Walker.
The Indian was perfectly familiar with the cave. He knew no person couldleave it by the narrow shelf or pathway. He could keep himselfconcealed, and if Walker passed a certain point, before he could bringhis gun to bear, he could strike him dead. Walker was a prisoner, with awatchful and relentless keeper. The Indian replied:
“Ah, White Bird! Fall-leaf here! Fall-leaf save!”
“Is it indeed my friend Fall-leaf?” cried Miss Hayward, joyfully.
“Yes; Fall-leaf save you!”
“Where is William Nettleton?” asked Mamie.
“Gone—gone!”
“Ah! then I have only _you_ to encounter,” yelled Walker, “and, if theFates favor me, I shall triumph. I know the Indian has not thought toprovide himself with provisions. I have enough to last us, with care,for two weeks, and by that time he will starve, for no Federal fool everwill find me _here_. He dare not leave in search of help, for I shouldthen effect my escape. So we will play our hands, and see if I do nothold the trump card. Ha! ha! I can baffle any friend you have, MissHayward.”
“White Bird sing,” said the Indian.
“Yes, I will sing. And as we are now near the main road, some one willbe sure to hear me.”
“Me watch—me wait!”
During the entire passage Miss Hayward had not failed to sing herecho-song every few miles, hoping to attract attention and gainassistance. Now that she was so near the public highway, she appliedherself anew to the task. Walker made frequent attempts to silence her,but could not do it, as he feared, whenever he turned from his watch,that the Indian would dart in upon him.
Some two years previous, there was a superstitious belief prevailing inthat section of Missouri, that the spirit of a murdered lady appearedupon the waters of the Gasconade, singing her mournful lays, and glidingin her death-skiff along the waters. For some time past nothing had beenheard of the “lady-ghost;” but, when the songs of Miss Hayward wereheard, the simple inhabitants began to think that the “ghost-lady” hadreturned, and, instead of seeking to gratify their curiosity, werecareful to keep as far as possible away. So it proved with regard to thecave, after the singing commenced.
Several days passed, and no succor appeared. The Indian kept faithfulwatch, and so did Walker, that he might not be taken by surprise.
Walker becoming convinced that Fall-leaf had no gun, several timesendeavored to bring his own to bear upon his vigilant foe, but this hecould not do without placing himself in a dangerous position. Both wereweary for want of sleep, and both would occasionally sink into a fitfulslumber; but, so intent was each upon his object, that the slightestmovement would rouse the sleepers, and each stand ready to meet his foe.But, as Fall-leaf had no food, he began to grow faint—his firm framebegan visibly to weaken; still, he determined to maintain his watch aslong as life should last.
The Prisoner of the Mill; or, Captain Hayward's Body Guard Page 11