An hour was spent in search for him; the valley and surrounding woods were scoured in vain, for he was not found. The troops were obliged to turn their steps homeward without him. It was nearly evening when they arrived at the fort, where they were hailed with loud shouts from their comrades when the news of victory was proclaimed. But, afterward, when it was found that the captain was missing, a shade of sadness seemed to fall on all. Immediately scouts were sent in all directions to search for him.
CHAPTER III.
THE STRANGE FACE.
The ladies of the garrison for some time had been suffering ennui, and after holding a consultation, they resolved to petition for some change to break the monotonous life. Accordingly, when all their feminine forces were brought to bear upon the officers, they forthwith yielded, and it was determined that the following night—the night after the soldiers’ return—should be a gala occasion; a night devoted to Terpsichore.
The ladies set to work with an ardent zeal, decorating the hall where the ball was to be held. It was a long barracks used for the officers’ mess-room. The regimental flags were placed here and there about the room, and foliage, brought from the woods, ornamented the walls, so that in a short time the place had assumed quite a festive appearance.
During the afternoon of this day, and while everybody in the fort seemed to be talking about him, Captain Sherwood made his appearance. He was pale, and looked fatigued; his uniform showed marks of hard usage, being badly torn and bespattered with blood.
An eager crowd was soon collected around him to listen to his exploits. All were greatly surprised upon learning that he had not been taken prisoner as was supposed. His story was as follows:
During the battle he had come in hand-to-hand combat with an Indian who appeared to be the leader of the Tory party, as Iron Hand himself was not with them. He finally managed, after a hard contest, to wound the arm of his antagonist, whereupon the savage turned about and took to flight. The captain hotly pursued, and in a few moments, both were separated from the main body of the combatants in a secluded portion of the woods; however, the officer was fast gaining ground on the Indian, and in a few moments would have had him in his power, when suddenly he received a shot from some unseen foe. Staggering forward he fell, and this was the last he remembered.
He had fainted, and when he recovered, he found himself prone in a hole in the earth about four or five feet deep, with a heap of hemlock boughs covering the top. The dirt had been just thrown out, and whoever had dug the hole had undoubtedly intended it for his grave. But they probably had been frightened away, and consequently left their work only half accomplished.
When the captain had thoroughly revived, and became aware of his situation, he managed to crawl out of the horrid place and drag himself to a stream near by, where he quaffed a draught which started his blood on the regular course again and restored vitality.
After bathing a wound in his leg—which was not serious, as the ball had merely cut the flesh—and bandaging it up with his handkerchief, he started for the garrison, where he had arrived, weak and exhausted from loss of blood and want of food.