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THE SUNNY SOUTH.
3
3b - Suardian - SSlizzard.
CHAPTER VII.
THE BATTLE OF RIVER BLUFF.
The return of the explorers was a season of
rejoicing for all concerned. And as they
lingered round the camp-fire (for the night
was chilly) relating their varied experiences,
they were no less surprised than pleased at
the sudden appearance of their lost guide.
“Hello, Jack! I’m pleased to see you
again,” said Mr. Lee, and his son, Tom,
simultaneously.
“ Who were your captors ?” inquired Mr.
Washington.
“They were,” replied Jack, “as we sup
posed at the time, Confederates. They con
ducted me to their camp, asked me a thousand
and one questions, and apparently satisfied
with answers, let me loose, and I went after
you, but you were too fast for me, for
although I followed in your tracks for the last
twenty miles, I could not overtake you.”
“How is our wounded captain getting
along?” asked Mr. Washington, as soon as
he had time to think of any one outside of
the family circle.
“Gone,” said Mrs. Lee, “and how un
grateful of him. He left without a word of
r hanks or warning to any of us. Adolphe, on
oing to summon him to supper one even
ing, found the tent vacated. Supposing he
had only gone lor a walk, and would soon
return, we waited for him till late in the
night, but he did not come, nor have we
seen or heard of him since.”
“Very strange,” commented her husband,
while Tom said he knew all along that there
was something wrong about the captain,
and he thought they were fortunate in not
losing a valuable, horse with him.
“Had he fully recovered?” asked Mr.
Washington.
“He said his ankle was well, but he still
used crutches. ”
Vi, seated by her father’s side, heaved a
sigh, but said nothing. She had suffered
much anxiety about the captain’s mysterious
and unceremonious departure. Believing him
to be the gentleman he seemed, she feared
iipvnp accident had befallen him, and if she
could have had her own way she would have
made his escape impossible by sending out
searching parties in every direction, but to
this proposition her aunt would not listen.
And now she had to sit and hear Tom’s un
favorable opinion of him repeated and en
larged on. She longed to defend him, but
her feelings were too strong for utterance.
She knew if she attempted to utter a syllable
she would be powerless to restrain the bitter
t£ars, which she could only indulge in secret,
sb she sat mute and sad, while the captain
was handled without the least regard for his
i^ne personal appearance and his many accom
plishments.
As Captain Rumford and Colonel Mansfield
are one and the same individual, we may as
well consolidate them here. As previously
stated, his intention had been to cross the Rio
Grande, and for this purpose he had travelled
day and night, till overcome by fatigue and
loss of sleep, he fell asleep in the saddle.
Then his horse, finding the reins relaxed, and
himself free to go as he chose, turned to
retrace his steps, and to reach home by the
nearest route. Thus it happened that, going
on to the condemned bridge, he lost his own
life, and crippled his master.
On coming to himself, helpless and horse
less, the colonel suffered great anxiety, well
knowing the danger he was in while on Texas
soil. And as soon as he could travel, he
made his way through the enemies’ lines, as
the nearest route to instant, if not permanent,
.safety.
He knew he had many warm friends on
tchat side, for his popularity was not confined
to sectional limits And, during the term of
•his service for his beloved Dixie, his indomit
able courage and soldierly, bearing in many
well-fought battles, had won for him the re
spect and confidence of all whom he had en
countered.
Owing to the interruption of postal and
telegraphic communication incidental to war,
his friends, on the other side, had not heard
of the grave charges against the daring col
onel. Hence, when he presented himself to
General C., with a plausible story cf remorse
for having aided the rebellion, and offered
his service to the Federal Government,
modestly asking to be enrolled as a private
soldier, he was received with perfect con
fidence, and given the command to a regi
ment of cavalry.
“We would not have you descend one iota
from the high station you have hitherto
adorned,*' said General C., adding: “And I
predict that your career will be up, up, ever
higher.”
Thus th*y separated, Colonel Mansfield tak
ing immediate charge of his new command,
which, at the time, was stationed on White-
font river. Here the country was so familiar
to the colonel that he frequently stepped
across the lines, and, in one of these stolen
visits, he had heard of Rosa Grayson’s re
moval, and this confirmed him in a wish he
had but vaguely entertained before, to have
her near him. And, to this end, he had ac
costed John Grayson, at his post, as already
related.
Always accustomed to implicit obedience
on the part of his inferiors, he was very
angry when John refused to do his bidding,
and, a fatal encounter might have resulted,
but for the opportune arrival of the relief
guard, and the fact that he dared not expose
himself by being seen. So he returned to his
quarters, baffled for the present, but deter
mined to accomplish his object at another
time.
On reaching his quarters he foqpd orders
awaiting him to prepare for marching, as it
had been decided to evacuate this unimport
ant point. Thus, it was, that the commotion
in the Federal camp had led the opposing
army to believe an attack was imminent.
But, on reaching the level clearing half a
mile down the river, where they had ex
pected to receive the Federals from pontoon
bridges, the Confederates were surprised to
find no foes and no bridges, and looking
through their field glasses, they discerned the
last blue coat disappearing over a distant
ridge.
“No honor lost, no glory won,” com
mented Lieutenant Mansfield to his compan
ion, John Grayson, as they leisurely returned
to camp.'
“No,” responded John, “but it matters
little to me, since my portion is dishonor. I
could claim no share in glory were it won.”
“Come,” said the lieutenant, drawing his
arm through his own, “that was not spoken
like my brother. And, you know, we are
brothers, or, for myself, I can say that I have
always regarded you as a younger brother,
and I will claim no honor that you do not
share.*’ <•-*" /
“Thanks,” said John, looking up with a
bright smile that put to instant flight the
melancholy expression that had clouded his
face. “I will try to merit your regard, and,._
as much as possible, banish from my mind
the remembrance of all disagreeables, which
we alike deplore, but are powerless to reme
dy.”
“That is right,” responded his companion.
Then, with a side glance, added: “Ah,
there is that tall woman again. We passed
her on our way down. I wonder what she
wants.”
The object of his wonder, overhearing his
remark, said tartly:
“I want nothing of you, but I must speak
with the youngster who is with you.”
Reluctantly, John followed her, wondering
what she could have to say to him, and
dreading the jeers of his comrades who were
not particular as to the subject of their rude
jokes.
When at a sufficient distance, not to be
overheard by others, the woman, seating her
self on a decaying log, motioned John to a
seat beside her. But he declined, saying he
would stand where he was, and hear what she
had to say.
“I thought you were tired after your march
down the river.”
“No,” he replied, “I am accustomed to
daily exercise, and as I have other duties to
perform, I would hear your business with me
as soon as possible.”
The woman started, as if just remembering
that she had any business, then, lowering
her gaze from his face, said, in quick, harsh
tones:
“Did you get a letter last week?”
“Yes,” responded John, with awakening
interest. “I did get a letter which greatly
puzzled me.”
“The signature?” she demanded.
“Guardian Blizzard,” said John.
“Well, that is all right, provided you said
nothing about it. It told you how you had
been robbed, and, also, that your horse was
regained. I thought it best to write and ap
prise you of these business details, for one
has a bad chance to talk here where so many
curious eyes are prying, and, at a woman,
they all stare as if she were some curious
animal, or as if their mothers were not
women.”
John wished she had written again, but did
not say so; instead, he cast a quick, impatient
glance at a group of soldiers who were en
gaged at game of cards, some yards distant.
“I thought I had better see you, instead of
writing, this morning, as part of what I have
to say is of a military character, and, there
fore, too important to commit to paper and
run the risk of being delayed, but I will re
serve it till the last. Now, for individual
matters. I have taken your sister in charge,
and intend to take care of her, so you need
give yourself no anxiety about her.”
“Yes, I heard,” said John, “and I hope
you will keep her safe from her destroyer.
He is seeking to carry her off.”
“How did you learn this?”
“He, the demon, told me—asked me to
carry a message to her from him. You
know, but it would choke me to name him.”
“Yes, yes, I know, the handsome colonel,
who fights as well for the blue as the gray.
He sent a messenger, whom I baffled by re
ceiving the message myself, and taking care
that Rosa never heard of it—not that I fear
she would willingly go to him, but I am re
solved that he shall not annoy her. He has
wrought mischief enough already, and it will
go hard with him if I catch him within our
borders. Now, for the military portion of
my errand. I have positive information that
the withdrawal of the Yankees this morn
ing, was a feint movement. And further,
that they intend to surprise and capture every
one of you, to-night.”
“How did you learn this?” John asked.
“The hows and wherefores need not con
cern you, all you have to do is to profit by
the information.”
“How?” a ked John.
“By telling your colonel, of course, and he
can shuffle his cards accordingly.”
“Why do you riot tell him instead of me?”
“I have reasons, private reasons, for not
doing so. Besides, 1 thought it would tend
to raise you in the official estimation.”
John stood looking on the ground, as if in
deep thought, a moment, then said:
“I cannot profit by your information unless
yoq will divulge your name, and, in this
particular, you have not yet enlightened me.”
Laughing a low, coarse laugh, she said:
“Have I not given my name? as if I had
I not signed it to my letter? How can you
ask more?”
“Guardian Blizzard,” he repeated, with a
look of amusement. “No one would accept it
as a real name, and, I fear, a nom de plume
might give rise to unpleasant surmises or
suspicions when repeated in official ears. Not
that I have a doubt of your veracity, for 1 be
lieve you to be a good, true woman.”
A low, chucking laugh, then she said:
“You were never more mistaken in your
life, nttyjad. But > 1 defy any man in the
army toyruTpute my word, whether I ah; good
or bad.; Now, I must go. Don’t Jet the
Yankees get you, for then you would be with
him whom we both hate too much to name—
good-bye. ”
“One moment,” said John, taking a step
after the departing figure, “tell me if you
are connected with our family. I will not
again ask for your name, but if I may, with
truth, call you aunt or cousin, I shall be
very glad of the relationship.”
“I am neither your aunt or cousin,” she
said, in an excited tone, “but I am, and will
be, your guardian, so let this content you.”
She was gone, leaving John so bewildered
that it was sometime before he could collect
himself sufficiently to return to camp, and
transfer the important information to his
foster brother.
“Very important, if true,” commented
Lieutenant Mansfield, “and I advise you to
go direct tc General S. with it, for, if you
tell Colonel T., he will waste time by doubt
ing, when, whether true or false, the wiser
course will be to prepare for the worst.”
Acting on this suggestion, John hurried to
the general’s quarters, where he found that
gentleman lunching with some fellow
officers, and laughingly describing a com
plimentary dinner he had recently attended.
“The first course,” said General S., “was
molasses and pan-cakes, and the second course
was pan-cakes and molasses, while the third
course was fritters and sryup. ”
Here the sentry called out:
“Private John Grayson wishes to speak
with the general privately.”
Rising promptly, the general excused him
self to his guests, and leading the way into
an outer pavilion, said kindly:
“Well, my lad, what can I do for you?”
John, in a brief, straightforward manner,
repeated what he woman had told him, con
cluding with the name she gave.
“Queer name,” he commented, “evidently
a pseudonym, but that may be politic, as it
would be injudicious for our scouts to at all
times appear in their real characters, but if
she is such, it is strange she did not come
direct to me, instead of sending you.”
He questioned John closely concerning the
woman’s appearance, but the answers did not
serve to enlighten him.
“Very extraordinary, M he murmured, “but
whether true or false we must act on it, for
it would be worse than foolish to suffer a
surprise when we have been warned. I thank
you, my young friend, for your promptitude
in the matter, and shall not forget you when
favors are to be distributed. Return to your
command, and I will prepare for tonight”
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Returning to his tent John was not sur
prised when, a short time afterwards, he saw
couriers flying in every direction over the en
campment.
By nightfall strong bodies of soldiery were
stationed at the different points where an at
tack was thought probable. These points
were the G. and P. roads, and the low level
banks of the river where a battle had been an
ticipated in the morning.
General S. entertained the opinion that the
garrison at G. would make a sortie on his
rear, while C.’s men approached from the
river and the P. road. Acting on this sup
position, the men were quietly stationed at
the different points, under their respective
commanders.
John Grayson, as one of the outpost picket?,
was placed on a bluff where the general had,
in the morning, surveyed the enemy’s lines
with his field glass.
Lieutenant Mansfield, who, in virtue of his
commission, was exempt from picket duty,
had asked for, and had been assigned, the pest
next to John.' They were within speaking \
distance of each other, but no words were ex
changed. All was profound silence, save the
rustle of the leaves by the night wind, and
the low, gurgling sound of the river, or the
occasional flapping of a bat, or the ominous
booting of an owl. Dark, gray clouds chased
each other over the full moon, making her
light rather vacillating.
John stood leaning against a huge boulder,
his piece in his right hand, ready for instant
action. The clouds, drifting by, left the
moon clear and luminous for a brief instant.
Taking out his watch he noted the hour. It
was twelve o’clock. Half the night gone, and
no foe as yet seen or heard. Could it be that
the woman had deceived him ? He feared so,
but could think of no motive for such decep
tion.
. Hark! what sound was that? It was like
the trampling of many feet on the other side
of the bluff next to the river, aad he thought
it must be a trick of imagination, for no foe
could advance in that direction. Listening
intently, the sound became more distinct,
and he faintly distinguished the rattle of
arms. Springing up on the rock against
which he had been leaning, he peered cau
tiously down and around.
Sure enough, there were many heads in
dark caps coming up the bluff, and, on the
river, he saw a dark, dense living, moving
mass steadily approaching on a pontoon
bridge. They were, doubtless, provided with
scaling ladders, for, by no other means,
could they hope fo ascend the precipitous en
vironments of the river at this point.
Should he give the signal by firing his
piece? John asked himself. No, if be did,
they would retreat ere the men, who had been
so long waiting to receive them, could come
within battle range.
So, slipping noiselessly down, he ran with
the utmost celerity to the van, where General
S. stood smoking a cigar, and conversing in
subdued tones with some of his staff.
“This is dismal business,” he was saying,
as John Grayson came up to them, “I think
we may as well turn in for the night, for it
is evident that that old woman’s tale was a
hoax. ”
John was nearly out of breath with his
long run, so unceremoniously seizing the
generals’ arm, he pointed towards the bluff.
“Not there,” said the general, divining
his meaning, “you can not mean that they
are coming in on us there?”
“Yes,” said John, “I believe C.’s entire
force is there.”
With the utmost silence and promptitude,
General S. signalled the different wisp of