“We’ll do all we can for you,” answered Ben, and while he went to work, Gilbert ran back to bring up the hospital corps with a stretcher.
“You want to go after Major Morris,” said the wounded soldier, as soon as he felt comfortable enough to talk.
“We are looking for Major Morris,” replied Ben, much astonished. “Where is he?”
“He was knocked over by one of the Dagos, and then three of ’em carried him away.”
This was certainly news, and Ben waited impatiently for Gilbert to get back. As soon as the young Southerner returned, both asked the 216 wounded soldier in what direction the captured major had been taken.
“They went through the cane-brake,” was the answer. “You’ll find the trail easily enough, I think, if you look for it. One of the rebs wore boots with high heels, so you can’t miss ’em.”
The wounded man did his best to point out the right direction, and was then taken back to the hospital tent. Without delay Ben called Ralph Sorrel and half a dozen others to his aid.
“We must go after Major Morris, and at once,” he said. “Are you ready to undertake the work? It may be a dangerous proceeding.”
“We’re with yer, cap’n,” answered Sorrel, and his sentiment was that of all of the others.
The trail into the cane-brake was followed without much difficulty, and the party of eight advanced as rapidly as the nature of the ground permitted. The storm had cleared off the night before, and the sun shone down hotly, making the air in the brake suffocating.