THE LEADER OF THE SCOUTING-PARTY

As the squadron came to a region where Major Lyon was no longer familiar with the country, scouts had been sent out ahead of the column to give information in regard to any possible enemy. Confederate troops had been reported from several different directions by those who had occasion to travel about the State. As indicated by some of their operations, their present policy was to destroy the railroad bridges, so as to prevent the government from forwarding troops by them.

General Buckner, or his forces, had destroyed one at Rolling Creek; but he was supposed to be falling back upon Bowling Green, as regiments from Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois began to reach this part of the State. It was possible that the squadron might come in contact with some of these forces; and the men were very anxious to find them.

Sergeant Knox was at the head of the scouts. He was a man of forty-two, a tall, raw-boned Kentuckian, whose enterprise and love of adventure had led him into the region beyond the Mississippi, where he had been a regular soldier, a hunter, a trapper, and voyageur. For some reason he had become a strong friend of Deck Lyon, who was never tired of listening to his stories of the regions beyond the pale of civilization. He was a bluff, good-natured man with those who pleased his fancy; and, though he was not bitter or revengeful, he was capable of being a terrible enemy.

Firing at a target was part of the regular drill of the cavalrymen in camp, and Life Knox always put his ball inside of every other. His name was Eliphalet, and he sometimes laughed at his parents for giving him such a long name. Captain Gordon had had no little difficulty in inducing him to sign his name in full on the enlistment papers. He had abbreviated it to "Life," and declared that he had never signed anything but that to any document in all his life.

He was born and "raised" in Warren County, though he had wandered far from it at an early age, after the death of his father and mother. He had a brother who was a prosperous planter, and with him he had lived the last two years of his life. When he came to Riverlawn to enlist, he brought with him a long rifle, which was a load for an ordinary man to carry. He was told that he could make no use of it in the army; but he asked Deck to take care of it for him, and he put it in his room.

It was occasionally brought out when the soldiers were firing at a target, and Life produced the most surprising results with it. He was pretty sure to hit the bull's-eye with it every time; for he had been trained where his daily existence depended upon the accuracy of his aim. He could bring down a squirrel as far as he could see him; and he always insisted that the rifle had as much to do with the result as himself. His shooting was observed with interest by the officers and men; and he was called, not simply a good, but a remarkable, shot. He was a dead shot to any living thing at which he aimed.

Life Knox was a good-hearted man; but there was a sort of inborn aristocracy in him which would not permit him to associate intimately with all his comrades in the ranks, though he treated them well, and spoke pleasantly to them. Deck was always respectful to him, and Life had taken a decided fancy to him. When the tall Kentuckian was ordered upon the scout, he took care that Deck should be one of the party. They had ridden together all the afternoon, and Life had made the time seem short to the young man by relating all the details of a fight with a party of Indians.

As the darkness of the evening came on, Life ordered his men to keep a sharp lookout on all sides, and suspended his thrilling narratives that his own watchfulness might not be impaired. The scouts were passing through what appeared to be a plantation, though they could not yet see any buildings. Suddenly the light of a fire flashed up at a considerable distance to the right of the scouts in the road.

"A fire, Life!" shouted Deck, as he discovered the glare of the first flame that rose in the darkness.

"Hush, little one!" interposed Knox. "Don't tell the neighbors about it, for it might astonish them."

"I don't believe there are any neighbors very near us," replied Deck in a low tone. "But there is something going on in this vicinity."

"We won't tell 'em, whoever's at work round here, that we are coming. By the light of the fire I can see a mansion or farmhouse over yonder."

As he spoke, the report of the half-a-dozen muskets, more or less, that had attracted the attention of the main body of the squadron, was heard, though the scouts were half a mile distant. The building of the fire was possibly a signal for the discharge which had so soon followed it; but no other connection could be suggested between them.

"One man can always do better in lookin' inter things than a dozen," said Life, as he was trying to connect the fire and the firing in a reasonable manner. "Ride over towards that fire, Deck, and see what you can see."

"Be you uns soldiers, Mars'r?" asked a negro, coming out of a cornfield at the side of the road, where the stalks had concealed his coming.

"Of course we are, Cato," replied Deck, who was nearest to him.

"Who done tole you my name, Mars'r?" asked the negro, whose surprise seemed to have driven everything else out of his head.

"I guessed at it. But what do you want? I told you we were soldiers," added Deck. "Do you come from that house beyond the cornfield?"

"Yes, Mars'r; but if you uns is soldiers, which side was you on?" inquired Cato very cautiously.

"Not gone, Deck?" asked Knox, riding up to him.

"This contraband has just come out of the field, and belongs to the house we saw in the distance. I thought he could tell me better than I could see for myself what is going on here," replied Deck.

"You are right, Deck."

"But he wants to know which side we are on before he says anything," added Deck.

"Then he is a sensible nigger. Of course we uns belong on the Union side; and when you catch Life Knox on any other side, you'll catch a coon asleep," replied the sergeant, decidedly enough to satisfy any doubtful person. "What's gwine on at that fire, Minky?"

"Bress de Lod if you was Union sodgers! and my name is Cato!" exclaimed the visitor, earnestly enough for a camp-meeting. "Dey is a hull regiment of Sesh sodgers ober dar!" he added, pointing in the direction from which the report of the firing had come.

Without waiting for any further information, Knox called Lane, one of the scouts, and sent him back to report what the negro said to Major Lyon. He was directed to move slowly after he had gone the eighth of a mile; for the enemy were at some point on the right of the road, and he would get a shot if he disturbed them.

"What are the Sesh soldiers here for, Cato?" asked Knox, as soon as his messenger had gone.

"Gwine to burn de bridge ober dar," replied the man, pointing in the direction in which the structure had been made out in the gloom of the evening.

"Well, why don't they burn it, then?"

"Dey done got oder business at de mansion-house, sar."

"What other business have they got there?"

"I reckon de story's as long as Uncle Zeke's sarmints; but de fust thing is, dey's gwine to hang Mars'r Barkland to one ob dem trees, if he don't tell whar he hide his money," answered Cato, as he gave a hurried glance at the fire.

"How many men are there at the house, or near it, Cato?" asked Knox with deep interest.

"I done count six on 'em."

"Then we won't allow a Union man to be hung to a tree. Scouts, attention, march!" called the sergeant hurriedly.

With this order, Life dashed into the cornfield, closely followed by Deck and the others. The harvest had been gathered in the field, and there was nothing but the stalks that remained to obstruct the passage of the squad. The fire was at the edge of a grove, on ground slightly elevated, and not far in the rear of the mansion, which could now be distinctly seen. In approaching it, the cavalrymen came to a spot less elevated than the grove, where Knox halted to reconnoitre.

"There's a lot of the villains coming from the house!" exclaimed the sergeant, as he brought his horse to a full stop all at once.

"They have about finished hanging Union men in our county," said Deck, "and I don't believe they will hang this one here."

"You can bet your horse they won't," added Life. "They can't see us yet, and I think we had better fix things a little before we begin business."

"We obey orders, Sergeant. There's a knoll over on the right covered over with trees."

"I was looking at that; and we will move over there, and take a position behind it, where they can't see us," replied Knox, as he led the way through a hollow, which brought the party to it.

The mansion-house was on the highest ground in the vicinity, though it was not on a hill. The fire seemed to be plentifully supplied with wood; for it burned brightly, and shed its light on the road leading from the house to the grove. A group of men could be seen approaching the elevation where the fire burned. They moved very slowly, and appeared to have considerable trouble in making any progress at all. There was a prisoner in the midst of the party, and he was very unwilling to move in the direction indicated by his oppressors.

While they were observing the spectacle, Cato joined them, for he had followed the cavalrymen as rapidly as he could on foot. He evidently belonged on the plantation, and knew all about the nature of the affair in progress, though the sergeant was not disposed to listen to a story as "long as Uncle Zeke's sermons."

"Do you know what those villains are doing there, Cato?" he asked, when the negro had recovered his breath.

"Dey drag ole Mars'r Barkland ober to de tree, whar dey will hang him," answered Cato promptly.

"Then your master has plenty of money?"

"I dunno, Mars'r; he neber tole me notin' about dat."

"I s'pose not. Are the men who came to the mansion in uniform, Cato?"

"No, sar; no uniform but de rags dey wear. Cap'n Tites is out at bof elbows, and a nigger'd be 'shamed to wear sich a coat."

"Did you hear what they said when they came to the house?"

"Hear ebery word dey say, Mars'r, 'cause I waits on de table when dey done took supper."

"Then they had supper at the mansion?"

"Yes, sar; dey was all half-starbed, and dey eat more'n twenty men, and done drink whiskey enough to float a canal-boat."

"Did that captain you spoke of drink whiskey, Cato?" asked Deck.

"He done drink more as all de rest on 'em. Mars'r Barkland willin' to gib dem de supper and de whiskey, but he don't want to gib 'em any money. Cap'n Tites tell him he done got million money; but mars'r say he don't hab none. Den de cap'n say he hang 'im to a tree if he don't gib up de money."

"That will do, Cato; I think I understand the matter now," said Knox, as he changed his position so that he could get a better view of the scene of action. "They have got nearly to the tree. It is about time to make a move."

The sergeant questioned the negro in regard to the road which led to the rear of the house, and some other matters relating to the locality. Knox was a strategist in a small way, as he had been obliged to be in defending himself from Indians and wild beasts. In a moment he had his plan ready to put into operation.

"I count nine men there, taking in the planter," said he. "Cato says there is a whole regiment camped in here somewhar. I don't believe it, Deck; but we don't want to stir 'em up just yet. You will take Owens and Fox, and ride round to that road Cato tells about, and I will go in on this side. I'll do most of the job with my four; but I don't want 'em to git off to their main body. Major Lyon'll tend to them."

Deck started at once with his two followers, directed by Cato again; and the negro went himself with all the speed of his legs. He came to the road, which was simply a driveway over the plantation, and soon reached the house. He was galloping his steed; but when he came to the house he reined him in at the plaintive supplication of an elderly woman and a young lady, whose face he could not see in the gloom of the evening.