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We left Harry Semans and his young companion just starting on their lonely ride to Jefferson City, a distance of twenty-seven miles. The soldier with Harry proved rather a garrulous youth. He said his name was David Harris; that he belonged to the Third Iowa Cavalry; was a farmer boy, and rather liked the service. "It's exciting, you know," he added.
"Very much so at times," dryly answered Harry.
"Say, what makes you dress like a blamed guerrilla?" suddenly asked Dave. "You are a soldier, aren't you?"
"I am a scout," replied Harry. "I dress like a guerrilla because I have to pretend to be one about half the time. Just before I reached Fulton today I pa.s.sed myself off as one of Porter's men. It saved me a dangerous encounter, perhaps my life."
"Gee! it must be exciting," said the boy. "I wish I was a scout."
"Couldn't be one," laughed Harry. "Your Yankee brogue would give you away. I notice you say 'keow' instead of 'cow' and 'guess' instead of 'reckon.' But please don't talk any more, we must keep both ears and eyes open."
After this they rode along in silence; that is, as much as Dave would allow, until Harry ordered him to ride in the rear, and if he must talk, talk to himself, and so low that no one else could hear.
For some ten miles they proceeded at a swift gallop without adventure, meeting two or three hors.e.m.e.n who seemed as little desirous of making acquaintance as they were themselves, and Dave began to think the ride rather tame.
As they were pa.s.sing a place where the bushes grew thickly by the side of the road, they received a gruff command to halt. Instead of obeying, Harry, as quick as thought, drew his revolver and fired, at the same time putting spurs to his horse and shouting to Harris, "Ride for your life."
There was a rustling in the bushes, an angry exclamation as well as a groan. Harry's shot had gone true, and came as a surprise to the bushwhackers as well, for two or three seconds elapsed before three or four shots rang out, and they went wild.
"Well, how do you like it?" asked Harry, as he drew rein, considering the danger past.
"It was so sudden," said Dave. "I think I would have halted, and asked what was wanted."
"And got gobbled, and in all probability hanged afterwards. Dave, you have to learn something yet before you become a scout. Always be ready to fire at a moment's notice; and if you have to run don't tarry on your going. I took chances as to whether there was a large party or not, but concluded it was not, or some of them would have been in the road."
"Did you think of all that? Why, the word 'Halt' was hardly out of the fellow's mouth when you fired."
"Think quickly, act quickly; it has saved my bacon many a time. You ought to have been with me when I was with Captain Lawrence Middleton.
There is the fellow to ride with. But this wouldn't have happened if Bruno had been with me."
"Bruno? Who is Bruno?" asked Dave.
"Bruno is my dog. He would have smelled those fellows out before we were within forty rods of them. I am never afraid of a surprise when Bruno is with me. But no more talking now."
Once more their horses took up a swinging gallop, and they met with no further adventures, and within less than three hours from the time they started they were halted by the Union pickets who guarded the approach to the river opposite Jefferson City.
Harry demanded of the Lieutenant in command of the picket that they be ferried across the river without loss of time, but the Lieutenant demurred, saying it was against orders to allow anyone to cross the river during the night.
"I have important dispatches from Captain Duffield to Colonel Guitar.
Refuse to take me over, and I would not give much for your command,"
angrily answered Harry.
"Who are you?" demanded the Lieutenant. "From your dress you are certainly not a soldier."
"I am Harry Semans, scout for the Merrill Horse," answered Harry.
"At the name 'Merrill Horse' the Lieutenant became as meek as a lamb.
"Excuse me," he exclaimed. "I will see that you get over the river immediately. Anything new at Fulton?"
"Porter and Poindexter are within eleven miles of the place, and Duffield expects to be attacked by morning."
The Lieutenant gave a low whistle. "The devil," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, and rushed to give the necessary orders.
It was eleven o'clock before the river was crossed and the headquarters of Colonel Guitar reached. He had just retired, but Harry and Dave were without ceremony admitted into his bedroom. The Colonel read the dispatch of Captain Duffield, sitting on his bed in his nightclothes.
At once all was excitement. There were but five hundred men guarding the important post of Jefferson City. Of this force, Colonel Guitar ordered one hundred to accompany him to Fulton. He dared not deplete the little garrison more.
While Harry and Dave were in the Colonel's bedroom, Harry noticed that Dave was regarding Guitar with a great deal of interest. When they pa.s.sed out Dave said to Harry in a whisper, "That general don't amount to shucks. Think of him fighting Porter?"
"Why, what's the matter with Guitar?" asked Harry.
"Matter! He wears a nightgown just like a woman. Who ever heard of a man wearing a nightgown?"[1]
[Footnote 1: A true incident.]
Harry exploded with laughter. "Many men wear nightgowns," he explained.
"I have no doubt but what General Schofield does. I reckon you will find out that Guitar will fight."
During the day there had been two important arrivals in Jefferson City, that of Lawrence Middleton and Dan Sherman. They had told Colonel Guitar of the rapid concentration of the guerrilla bands all through the counties north of the river, and had warned him to be on the lookout for trouble. In fact, they had brought orders from General Schofield for him to send two of his companies to Columbia, as it was thought that was the place in greatest danger.
Lawrence and Dan were told of the danger that threatened Fulton, and they determined to accompany Guitar in his expedition.
It was not until they were on the ferryboat crossing the river that Harry was aware that Lawrence and Dan were of the number. He nearly went wild on seeing them.
"And how is Bruno?" asked Lawrence.
"Bruno is all right. I sent him with a dispatch to Colonel Shaffer."
Hurry as fast as they could, it was long past midnight before the force was across the river, and then there was a twenty-seven mile ride ahead of them.
On the march Harry had an opportunity to tell Lawrence much that had happened to him since they parted.
It was daylight when Fulton was reached, and, much to their relief, the place had not been attacked, but the excitement ran high. Rumor had increased Porter's force to two thousand. Colonel Guitar believed this estimate to be much too high. So, small as his force was, only one hundred and eighty, he determined to move out and attack Porter without delay.
When this became known to the few Union inhabitants of Fulton they implored Guitar not to do it. "Your force will be annihilated," they exclaimed, "and Fulton will be at the mercy of the foe."
Lawrence agreed with Colonel Guitar. "We came here in the night," said he. "Porter does not know how many men you brought. No doubt your force is magnified, the same as his. a.s.suming the offensive will disconcert him, and also prevent him receiving further reinforcements."
So it was decided, and the little force took up the march for Brown's Springs, eleven miles away. Couriers were dispatched to find Colonel Shaffer, for even if Bruno had succeeded in delivering Harry's message Shaffer would march for Fulton instead of Brown's Springs.
It was about eleven o'clock when the column reached the vicinity of Brown's Springs. Nothing as yet had been heard from Colonel Shaffer, but Guitar determined to attack. Lawrence had been asked by Guitar to act as his aid, to which he gladly a.s.sented.
Two or three small parties of guerrillas had been sighted, but they took to the brush at the sight of the Federals.
The command now moved cautiously forward, but there was to be no battle.
Harry, who had been scouting in front, returned with the news that the guerrillas had fled. Their camp was soon occupied. Everything showed a rapid flight; even the would-be dinner of the guerrillas was found half cooked.