FOOTNOTES:
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE HAUNTED GROUND.
Our story must now go back to Big Cave Camp on the Orchard shore of Lake Katrine. Lieutenant MacWhirlie had made a vigorous attack upon the Pixie camp, using his portable davids with good success. He completely demolished a bowl-shaped battery of Linyphia,[AZ] placed among the morning glories, from which a gang of Pixies had kept up a continuous and annoying volley of spears and arrows. But not being supported by the infantry, he fell back to the outer line of intrenchments. Here he was joined by Captain Bruce with his troops.
In the meantime, Commodore Rodney and his fleet had retired before the Stygians, and lay under the protection of the great guns mounted at the mouth of the inlet. The Pixie squadron took position before the inlet, thus shutting the Natties in, and Admiral Quench immediately sent three ships to relieve Big Cave Camp.
Thus matters stood on the eventful evening that brought such happy issue to the Brownies on Ellen's Isle. Exciting incidents also had happened at Camp Lawe, as the Brownie encampment before Big Cave had been called, in honor of the Ensign's gallant exploit. Shortly after nine o'clock, the hour for changing the sentinels, Bruce was informed by Vigilant, the Sergeant of the guard, that one of the men was missing from his post.
"What," cried Bruce in angry tones, "I didn't think we had a traitor or a coward in our camp. Bring the wretch here, as soon as he is found. He must suffer the penalty." The Captain thus spoke, because it is an almost unheard of thing that a Brownie soldier should desert his post, and the punishment for such offence is instant death.
Fig. 110.—"The Bowl-Shaped Battery of Linyphia."
"But, Captain," answered Vigilant, "we have searched for the guard, and can't find him. No one has seen him off his rounds. Indeed, he was seen at his post by the nearest sentinel but a few moments before the relief came up. Here is his spear, which was picked up on the ground. Otherwise there is not a trace of him anywhere."
"Remarkable indeed! Who was the sentinel?"
"Private Standwhile."
"Ah, a good man and true! I know him well. Lead the way to his picket post."
The two were soon upon the ground. The spot where the missing soldier's lance was found was carefully examined, but there was no trace of conflict or other unusual occurrence. The approaches to the picket line from the enemy's direction were closely scanned. Nothing suspicious was seen. The ground for some distance between the Pixie and Brownie camps was at this point flat and smooth. Unable to solve the mystery, the Captain ordered another sentinel to be placed.
"See that he is a good man, one of the brightest and most careful in the ranks," said Bruce. Accordingly Sergeant Vigilant assigned Private Sharpsight to the vacant post.
"And, be sure, Sergeant," said the Captain, as he turned away, "that you keep a bright lookout upon your sentinels during the watch, especially on this one."
Scarcely an hour had passed ere Captain Bruce heard the sharp challenge of the sentinel before his tent door: "Who goes there?"
"Sergeant Vigilant of the picket guard."
Bruce rose from his couch without waiting to be called, and left the tent. "Well, what is it? Speak!"
"The second sentinel is gone!"
"Sharpsight gone?"
"Aye; not a sign or sound of him anywhere. I visited the picket once within an hour after he was stationed. All was then well. But I felt restless and nervous about the disappearance of Standwhile, and a few moments ago returned. Sharpsight had vanished as mysteriously as the other!"
"Call out the guard!" cried Bruce, snatching his broadsword and striding off toward the picket line. "Keep this matter as quiet as possible. It won't do to alarm the camp."
Fig. 111.—"The Horizontal Snare of a Young Uloborus Among the Laurels."
Every bush, and clump of grass, weed, stone, stock, or other place that could possibly give shelter to friend or foe, Brownie or Pixie, within a wide circuit of the fatal picket post, was thoroughly explored. Nothing more dangerous was found than the horizontal snare of a young Uloborus among the laurels and a few young Furrow spiders. The latter lay within their silken tubes which were snugly embosomed within a dainty tuft of dry moss, or tucked within the folds of rolled leaves or curled birch bark, with a trap line strung from the openings to nearby round webs. The Brownies were no wiser than before. The mystery was unsolved.
"Shall we place another picket?" asked Sergeant Vigilant.
"It must be done," answered the Captain. "But call for volunteers."
"You see how it is, my good fellows," said the Sergeant turning to the guard. "Two of our men are gone. Where, how, nobody knows. There is foul play somewhere, and the sort that leaves no trail. The next picket may uncover the villainy, or he may go the way of the others. I shall not draft any one to this post unless necessary. Who will volunteer? Step out!"
Fig. 112.—"Snugly Embosomed Within a Dainty Tuft of Dry Moss."
There was a moment's pause. The sentinels cast glances from one to another, as though each waited for his comrade to volunteer. Then, as if by one impulse, every one stepped to the front.
"Bravo!" cried the Captain. "It is just what I expected of you. But I only meant to test your courage. I shall take this post myself, and do duty for the rest of this watch as one of the picket guards. Sergeant, dismiss the men and resume your rounds. Call here in half an hour. I will solve this mystery, if it can be done. Away!"
Vigilant and his guard began to remonstrate with their leader against this exposure of his life. But when he bade them away in such peremptory tones, they knew that his mind was made up, and there was nothing for them but to obey. Slowly and unwillingly they withdrew; not to sleep however, but to talk in subdued voices over the strange events of the night, and await the issue of their Captain's watch.
The half hour had well nigh passed. A cry of alarm startled the guard. It ran through the camp. Officers and men sprang from their bivouac fires and rude couches, and seized their arms.
"Fall in! Fall in!" shouted the officers. The bugle sounded the call.
"Is it a night attack?"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Where have the Pixies assaulted the line?"
"There! Don't you see the guard rallying in yonder open space by the ridge. The enemy is coming straight over the plain."
"Pshaw! There's not a Pixie in sight. It's a false alarm raised by some stupid picket."
Thus backward and forward ran question and answer, as the Brownie soldiers swiftly fell into line of battle.
"Where is the Captain?" asked Lieutenant MacWhirlie, saluting Acting-Adjutant Bright.
"At the picket line I believe, Sir," answered Bright, "looking after the cause of the alarm. Ah! here comes the Sergeant of the guard. Why—in Heaven's name, Vigilant, what's the matter?"
"Captain—Bruce—is—gone!" said the Sergeant, jerking out the words between sobs.
"Gone—what do you mean?" cried both officers at once. The story was soon told. The Captain had disappeared as mysteriously as the two privates. Lieutenant MacWhirlie after a brief consultation with the officers issued the following order: "Let the soldiers be informed of everything. Appeal to their honor, loyalty, courage and good sense. Dismiss them to their quarters, and bid them sleep upon their arms. Come, Sergeant, lead the way to the picket line."
Figs. 113, 114, 115 and 116.—"Tucked Within the Folds of Rolled Leaves or Curled Birch Bark." (Furrow Spiders.)
Accompanied by Vigilant, the Lieutenant strode away, having sent back his pony to the corral. The men of the guard were still scattered throughout the neighborhood looking for traces of their lost commander and comrades. They were recalled by a bugle. There was nothing to report.
Meanwhile MacWhirlie carefully examined the premises. The open space in front of the mysterious picket post ended in a low ridge which ran for some distance in either direction, and was covered with grass intermixed with tufts of moss and ferns. Beyond that and toward Camp Lawe the ridge was covered with a growth of young bushes. It was close up to this ridge that the lost pickets had been stationed.
"Did you observe the position of the men?" asked MacWhirlie.
"Not of the first one," answered the Sergeant. "But the second was stationed here. So also was the Captain. They both stood with their faces toward the plain—outward. I watched them both from a distance, after I had left them. The Captain paced up and down, just there along the ridge, keeping his eyes toward the enemy's camp. He made a half face outward, so to speak, as he walked."
"Outward? You are quite sure of that?"
"Quite."
"Very well. I shall take this post now. You will form the entire guard in a circle enclosing this spot."
"How far away, Sir?"
"Just far enough to have me well in sight. Let the men pace their beats as ordinary sentinels, keeping each other in view, face to face and right about. At the slightest call or alarm of any kind let them close in instantly, all of them at a sharp run."
"Is that all, Sir?"
"Yes; except that I want you to report to me as soon as the men are placed. You may go, now."
"Fall in. Attention. Right face. Forward—March!"
The Sergeant marched away at the head of his squad, and was soon stationing the sentries according to orders. As the guard moved off MacWhirlie overheard muttered words of protest dropping from the soldiers' lips. "Can't afford to lose both our leaders!" "It's a useless sacrifice!—Haunted ground!"
"Humph!" exclaimed the Lieutenant to himself. "Haunted ground, indeed! The cause of this deviltry is somewhere in this neighborhood, I'll be bound. And there's nothing more ghostly than Pixies at the bottom of it. There's no keeping track of their tricks. We are forever coming across some new tribe, with new habits. Their cunning and skill are beyond belief." He turned his back toward the plain and his face toward the ridge, and in that position kept guard until Sergeant Vigilant returned.
"Now," said MacWhirlie, "I want you to take your stand a few rods beyond me in the direction of the Big Cave. Keep your eye on me closely. If anything unusual occurs give the alarm, no matter what it may be. Don't fear to raise a false alarm."
The long watch began. Keeping his face steadily inward, the Lieutenant stood, or walked slowly back and forth, covering his eyes and scanning closely every object before him. Not a motion of leaf, twig, blade of grass, sprig or frond escaped his keen vision. But there was no sign of anything threatening or unusual. Midnight passed. One—two—three o'clock! The first glint of the coming dawn began to show in the horizon. The Brownie camp was as silent as a graveyard, for the men had grown tired of their long suspense, and dropped asleep. MacWhirlie and his guard were also well nigh wearied out. The day was like to break leaving the mystery unsolved.