CHAPTER XIII.
_The Cave and the Contest for Life._
AFTER two days spent in the cabin, Nettleton became excessively uneasy.From something which had transpired, he conceived that old Madge knewmore of Walker’s whereabouts than she had yet confessed. Thisconviction, once formed, was but the prelude to action. Withoutinforming any one of his purpose, he followed the old woman into thewoods—whither she went in pursuit of her medicaments—having in his handsa stout rope. In a wild, retired spot, he confronted her.
“Look here, old critter, you’re close-mouthed, when it would be betterfor your health to talk a little. Now, you jist tell me where CaptainWalker has taken Miss Mamie. Talk straight, and not a gap in the fence.”
“I don’t know where he has gone,” she answered, rather evasively.
“That is, you are a nat’ral-born know-nothing. Well, it will assist yourmemory, perhaps, to stretch your neck a little, jist to take the kinksout, you know; so pass your shock of tow into this ’ere noose, while Ipull you up on that limb.” And suiting the action to the word he flungthe noose dextrously over her head. She was taken by surprise, andtrembling in every limb, asked:
“Would you hang me?”
“Sartain as there’s a tree and here’s a rope.”
“I don’t know where Walker is, but I think he has a place of refuge downthe river, near the Ghost Swamp. There is a cave in the river’s bank,opposite to the swamp, where I know his confederates occasionallysecrete themselves. He may have gone there; but, as he has been goneover two days, I don’t see why he should be there now. It is my opinion,however, that Miss Mamie, as you call her, is there, as it is the bestplace to keep her.”
“Ah, thank you, old Mrs. Crow’s-foot. There is something more on yourmind, isn’t there?”
Madge looked at him inquiringly.
“I know all about your friend’s visit; so do you jist play your cardsright, or I’ll catch ye niggin.”
This allusion to her “friend” startled the old woman.
“He was no friend of mine; he came along on his own account, and I onlygave him bread, as I give any one who is hungry.”
“All right; only, what did he tell you?”
She hesitated. Nettleton gave the rope a twitch, and looked up at thelimb. The hint was enough.
“The man said he was up from below on a scout. He was anxious to knowwhat I knew about the voice of a woman which he said had been heard allalong the river. He heard it distinctly as he passed the road along theriver by the Ghost Swamp; others had heard it, and he believed that Icould tell him as to its meaning. I told him it was a sign that he wassingled out for death—that every person who heard it was called, and hemight, therefore, make up his mind that his time was come. With that heleft. I did not inform him of who was in my cabin, nor any thing aboutwhat had happened here. So I hope you will let me go, and frighten me nomore.”
Nettleton slowly lifted the noose from her neck, and, without anotherword, walked back to the cabin. He called out Lieutenant Wells, who wasthen watching at the captain’s bedside, and the two friends held a longconsultation together, which ended by an order for a guard of twenty tobe ready for a night expedition.
By ten o’clock all were in readiness and on their way, taking the riverpath down stream. Wells was in command. Nettleton acted as scout andguide. All night long they pressed on, and daylight found them on thehills opposite the spot indicated by Madge as the locality of the cavein the bank. Asking Wells for his field-glass, Nettleton carefullyscrutinized the river’s bank opposite. After a short survey he suddenlyexclaimed:
“_The Ingen_, as sure as Sacramento!”
“What do you say?” inquired Wells.
“Fall-leaf—see him—there he lays, and there is the cave. I’m blest if Iknow what to make of it. I supposed, _of course_, that that red-skin wasroasted alive in the mill; but there he is, and here I goes.”
So saying, down he dashed into the river, and forded its waters rapidly.Once on the opposite side, he hurried up the bank, and soon reached theledge across which the Indian was lying. The poor fellow was but halfconscious from over-fatigue and hunger, yet his eyes were fixed withcat-like vigilance upon the aperture of the cave, while his hand stillfirmly clasped the knife upon which he relied to do his deadly work.
Nettleton approached him silently, and touched his feet. At once theIndian looked behind him.
“Give Fall-leaf drink—quick!” was his hurried whisper, while the fingeron his lip indicated silence.
Nettleton comprehended all at a glance. Passing his canteen and knapsackto Fall-leaf, he beheld the Indian drink and eat with satisfaction. Nota word passed between them.
“Good! Fall-leaf _much_ weak; now strong again,” he whispered.
“Where’s Miss Mamie?”
The Indian pointed to the cavern.
“Walker, too?”
Fall-leaf nodded, and scowled so fiercely that Nettleton perceived thesavage wanted no interference in his case.
“Shan’t I do the job for ye?”
“No—Fall-leaf _mad_. Me kill ’em—you go way.”
“That’s the talk, Ingen. You shall have your man; but, Jerusalem, don’tI ache to git my paws on him!”
A noise was now heard in the cave; it was Walker’s voice. “I’ll notpermit you to sing, I again tell you. If those men crossing the riverare Union soldiers, you shall not betray our whereabouts, and ifFall-leaf moves I’ll shoot him!”
“Bah, you ornery cuss; _I’m_ on your track now!” shouted Nettleton.
“William—dear William!” cried the captive woman, recognizing his voice.
“_Here!_” he responded, “and so chock full of the devil that if I don’tget rid of it soon it will spile me. Walker, you dirty beast, dare youfight me?” he yelled.
“I dare fight any decent antagonist, but don’t care to dirty my handswith you,” was the reply.
“Oh, you nasty, miserable, thievin’ woman-stealer, man-assassinator.I’ll cook your breakfast for you, but Fall-leaf shall eat it; _he’ll_dirty his hands with _you_!”
“I defy you and all your crew,” growled the rebel. “If one of you daresto show your head, you are a dead man!”
“Blast yer picter, here’s a head—shoot it!” cried Nettleton, stickinghis head out in a manner to dare Walker’s fire.
The scoundrel was prepared, and discharged his gun in an instant. Itsreport had not ceased its echo ere Fall-leaf, with a bound like apanther, dropped before the entrance of the hole. Walker stood therewith knife in hand, to foil any such attempt to storm his castle. Aquick blow with his foot sent the Indian headlong over the ledge.
“Try that on me,” roared Nettleton, who, uninjured by the ball fromWalker’s musket, was at the Indian’s heels.
No sooner said than done, and Nettleton received an unexpected blow inthe bowels from the rebel’s heavy boot which sent him almost instantlyover the ledge after Fall-leaf.
That was the propitious moment for escape. Without a word to hiscaptive, he passed out upon the ledge, and had nearly reached itsterminus when Lieutenant Wells, followed by his men, confronted thedesperate man. Drawing his revolver, Wells cried:
“Surrender or you are a dead man!”
“I never will surrender to you,” was the fierce reply, as the nowcornered desperado began slowly to retire, backward, to regain hisstronghold.
He had retreated fully half-way to the entrance, when his heel caught inthe rough floor of the ledge, and his balance was lost. For a moment hesought to regain his foothold, but, finding it gone, he gave a shout andleaped over the precipice.
The soldiers looked over the ledge and saw his form disappear in thetrees beneath. Wells did not wait, but rushed to the cavern mouth.
“Miss Mamie.”
A form darkened the passage, and within stood Miss Hayward, smiling andblushing as if just caught at her toilet.
With a cry of joy Wells entered and clasped her to his
bosom.
“Safe and uninjured! Thank God—thank God!” answered the maiden.
“Safe and restored; and, thank God, your brother, too, is recovered, andis now in our hands, doing well!”
“Then I am happy, indeed!” she could only reply, while tears of joychecked further utterance.
Wells had entirely forgotten Walker, in his moment of sweet communionwith his restored friend. But, a shout which came up from the depthsbelow recalled him to duty. It was a wild Indian war-whoop; then asuccession of ejaculations which the men could plainly distinguish.
“Go in, Ingen!” “Walk along, Walker, you darn skunk you!” “There, that’sa good un, Ingen!” “Now another in the corn-crib!” “There he goes!”“Hooray for the Ingen!”
All well knew the meaning of this, and a number of the men hastened tothe base of the cliff, by a long, roundabout path, which came up fromthe river at the ford below. They arrived to find Walker slain, andFall-leaf badly cut in the face, arms and shoulders, but no seriouswounds on the body. Nettleton stood over his friend, bathing his woundsin the clear waters of the river.
“Ingen’s done for the cut-throat, sure. It was mean to shut me out; butit was his game, ’cause he treed it. I’d give all I’ll ever be worth—”
“Would you give Sally?” put in one of the men.
“Dang Sally—no, dang my skin—that is, dang me if I wouldn’t give mycommission, boys, that’s it! give my commission to have had thesatisfaction of doin’ Fall-leaf’s work.” Nettleton looked savagely atthe body of the dead man, seeming to feel that he had made a personalsacrifice in permitting the Indian to kill his enemy.
It would appear that both Fall-leaf and Nettleton, when kicked off theledge, fell at its foot without injury, as the base was banked up to aconsiderable distance with the decayed and water-soaked _débris_ of thebank, down which they rolled into the water. They had recovered, andstepped out into the stream to look up to the ledge, when they beheldWells and Walker confronted. In a moment the rebel staggered, and wentbounding off the ledge, and, like his two antagonists, came tumbling andsliding down the declivity, landing at the water’s brink upon his feet.There he was received by the Indian, with the wild whoop which startledthose above. Nettleton, in honor bound not to interfere, stood by whilethe two fierce foes closed in deadly conflict. Walker, though a resoluteand strong man, was not equal in a knife fight to the supple savage.After a few passes, Fall-leaf buried his knife in the rebel’s bosom.Thus closed the career of a bad man—bad by nature, but rendered doublybad by the cause which he espoused. To serve that cause he had to betrayhis country, desert his friends, stifle the voice of conscience, perjurehis honor, become a hypocrite and a deceiver: after that, all otherdegrees of crime were easy.
Wells followed the men at length, and appeared on the spot. He wasshocked at the sight before him, but conceded its justice. His own wishwas to have secured Walker for trial and punishment according tomilitary law; yet, it must be acknowledged that, many times, he feltlike wreaking condign personal vengeance on the head of the man who hadwrought so successfully in crime. He ordered the body to be buried inthe _débris_ at the foot of the cliff; and there it reposes to-day, withno monument save the cave above, which will long remain as a witness tothe traitor’s crime and traitor’s doom.
CHAPTER XIV.
_The Body-Guard’s Sickness and Cure._
SLOWLY the party wended its way back to the mill. Just at nightfall itcame in sight of the lowly hut which covered the treasure so dear to theheart of the rescued maiden. How her eager arms longed to clasp herbrother’s form to her bosom—how her ears longed for the sound of hisvoice! The wings of the swallow would have been slow for her piningsoul; but the moment of reunion came at last—the dead was made alive,the lost restored. Miss Hayward, gallanted by Wells, pressed on ahead ofthe troop, and their panting steeds at length stood riderless before thecabin-door, for the riders had disappeared within.
The meeting of brother and sister was one of mingled pleasure and pain.Both had suffered so much that to think of it was pain. Captain Haywardwas greatly emaciated. Loss of blood, fever, hunger and exposure wouldhave ended a life less tenacious than his; but, despite his suffering,the presence of friends, the rescue of his sister, the anticipatedhappiness of her union with the man who had proven himself so wellworthy of her—all conspired to give an elasticity to his spirits morepotent than the infusions of herbs prepared by the not unskilled handsof old Madge, who, from an enemy, had, “by the force of couldn’t helpherself,” as Nettleton declared, become a useful instrument at acritical moment.
And what about Nettleton? All day long after the morning’s experience atthe cave, he had plodded on soberly, somewhat absorbed in his ownreflections. Behind him sat Fall-leaf, who, from his weak state, waswell content to ride. The Indian, though perfectly silent and apparentlyindifferent to all things, now that his work was done, still wasinwardly pleased at the rescue and the thought of the pleasure in storefor the captain, of whose safety he had been informed by Nettleton; andhe was quite willing to go into camp for a few days before putting outagain on his endless scouts.
“Nettle be sick?” he at length asked of his companion.
“Not by a darn sight, Ingen?”
“Nettle _be_ sick—Fall-leaf knows it!”
“You be danged to darnation, you red onion-head of a Delaware!” was thesomewhat excited answer, as he turned in the saddle and stared theIndian in the face.
Fall-leaf smiled. “Nettle want physic—Miss Long give Nettle physic,” heobstinately persisted.
“Now look here, Mr. Ingen, ef you wants to fight, jest you say so, andI’ll be catawampussed ef I don’t lick you wuss’n a nigger what’s got amad woman arter him!”
“Fall-leaf no want to fight Nettle. Maybe whip Nettle—den what Miss Longsay?”
“Yoh—yoh! you mean, sneakin’ son of a brick-kiln! Ef you don’t stop thatclapper in your head, I’ll be switched ef I don’t put a peg through it!”And he set his face firmly to the front, roweled the horse severely withhis spurs, and dashed ahead at a speed quite uncomfortable to theprovoking Delaware.
When the cavalcade reached the cabin, Nettleton did not obtrude himselfupon the party within. For an hour or more they were alone. At lengthHayward asked: “Where is my brave preserver? Why is he not here to enjoyour happiness? And Fall-leaf, too; I would thank him as he deserves, thenoble and devoted savage.”
Search was made. Fall-leaf was found out by the camp-fire, undergoingthe process of the lotion-cure for his wounds, at the hands of Madge,who was carefully washing the bruised and cut flesh of the red-man. Allinquiries for Nettleton were fruitless; he was not to be found. It wasascertained, at length, that his horse also was gone. Many were thesurmises as to the cause of his absence, and fears were expressed forhis safety.
Morning came, and the party, now rejoined by the entire battalion,prepared to move, by easy stages, from the valley toward the line ofmarch pursued by the retreating army. Captain Hayward was made quitecomfortable in a camp-wagon, with his sister for companion and nurse.Fall-leaf pushed out far ahead to scout and secure the command fromsurprise. Adjutant Hinton and Wells were tireless in their devotion tothe comfort and safety of their charge. It was a pleasant journey—thatweek of slow progress toward Tipton. At length, however, the villagehove in sight. The white tents dotting the hills and valleys proved thatthe division was there. While yet a long way off, a party of horsemen,accompanied by ladies, was seen dashing off at full speed toward thespot where the battalion had halted for its noon bivouac. Wells caughtsight of the party, and with his glass made out the gaunt form ofNettleton far in advance. Behind him on the same horse rode a female,whose identity the officer could not fix. Nearer and nearer the horsemencame, until, after an exciting race, they dashed into the camp—Nettletonand Sally Long! They were received with a wild huzza from the entiretroop, and none shouted louder than Nettleton himself.
“Hooray! hooray! By
the eternal jingo!” he cried, leaping from thehorse, and leaving Miss Sally sitting there alone, before the eyes ofthe joyous and excited troops. Making his way to the captain’s“marquee”—as the men had named the wagon—he was welcomed by Hayward in amanner which quickly turned his servant’s joy to mourning, for theembrace of real affection bestowed quite upset Nettleton’s confidence.
“I’m nothin’ but a great darn skunk, any how!” he exclaimed, as,breaking away from the captain’s embrace, he started for his horse andthe neglected Sally.
“Nettle be sick!”
He turned to behold Fall-leaf gazing upon him in mock compassion.
“Not by a danged sight, you infernal lump of glory!” he now shouted, as,clasping the Indian in his arms, he gave the red-man a hug which broughtforth a grunt.
“Ugh! Nettle make Fall-leaf sick! Guess Nettle got full of Miss Sallynow!”
“Yes, sar; and thar she is, in all her glory!” was the rejoinder, as the“body-guard” pointed, in evident pride, to the smiling woman.
“Gentlemen of the jury! let me present to you my wife—the dangdest sk—no, the most blissful woman you ever saw.”
“Your _wife_!” exclaimed a dozen voices at once.
“Yes, my wife! Hitched to me tighter’n a handle to the jug, by ChaplainDisbrow, two days ago, by the eternal jingo!”
This was enough for the men. All order gave way before the hilariousuproar which followed. They pressed around Sally to offer theircongratulations, which the delighted wife received with greatgood-nature and dignity, still sitting where she had been left—behindthe saddle, on the horse.
At this moment the party first descried rode up. It was composed of Mrs.Hinton, Miss Morton and a number of friends eager to welcome the captainand his sister, of whose fortunes Nettleton had most unexpectedly, threedays before, brought the news to camp. That it was a joyous meeting maywell be assumed.
* * * * *
Does not our story here end? To say that Miss Mamie Hayward soon becameMrs. Wells, in the presence of the whole division—that a grand gala-dayfollowed—is but half the truth, however; for, at the same time, anotherbridegroom was there in the form of the pale but happy Captain HenryHayward, who took to be his comforter and his much-needed nurse, thewoman who loved him most truly—Miss Nettie Morton. It was, indeed, amost happy consummation of a drama which promised, at one time, to endonly in sorrow and broken hearts.
Not the least happy of all that throng, nor the least noted, was
NETTLETON, THE CAPTAIN’S BODY-GUARD.
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Transcriber's note:
Punctuation and hyphenation have been made consistent.
The spelling has been retained with the exception of the following:
hight -> height iutruder -> intruder turkle-dove -> turtle-dove disppointment -> disappointment _he’ll_ dirty has hands -> _he’ll_ dirty his hands
The Prisoner of the Mill; or, Captain Hayward's Body Guard Page 13