Camp Venture: A Story of the Virginia Mountains

by George Cary Eggleston

"But what do you think, Lieutenant?"

"I tell you I am not thinking. I am simply waiting for orders."

"But surely you have some opinion. Won't you give me the benefit of it?"

"Yes," answered the lieutenant. "I have an opinion—several of them, in fact—and as you insist, I will give you the benefit of them. It is my opinion that you have conducted your affairs like an imbecile. You were sent up here to break up the illicit stills and you haven't found one of them yet and never will. You found this camp of wood chopping boys and made me capture it for you. Then the moonshiners took the offensive, while you were pottering around here trying to find a still where a mere glance would have convinced an intelligent man that there was none. Very well, I captured the moonshiners while you were hiding behind the Camp Venture barricade. They are our prisoners, no thanks to you. I think now, as I told you at the time, that then, if ever, was your time to search out the stills and capture them. You would not do it, and it is my conviction that by this time every still in the mountain is so securely hidden that a fine tooth comb couldn't find one of them or any tangible evidence that one of them was ever in existence. You've got the materials for a report, of course,—a report showing so many prisoners captured—but I fancy you'll find it difficult to show either that you captured them or that you had any authority to capture them. I captured them and I had a right to do so, because they attacked a body of regular troops engaged in doing their duty. In other words, they levied war upon the United States and were caught in the act. The charge of treason cannot be sustained against them, probably; if not they are guilty of rioting, assault and battery and all that sort of thing. But what charge can you bring against them? You may say that they are moonshiners, but you can't offer a particle of proof of that, simply because you would not follow up this affair by hunting out the stills. There, you have a few of my leading 'opinions,' and as you don't seem to relish them, perhaps I needn't give you any more."

The revenue agent was dejected beyond measure. For a time he sat still with a flushed and angry face. Then, as he realized the situation in which he had placed himself by his foolishness and indecision, he turned pale. Finally he appealed again to the lieutenant:

"Won't you advise me what to do now at any rate?" he asked.

"I'll advise you as to nothing. When the time to act came I volunteered some advice and you rejected it. I now simply notify you that my force will be held ready to march at a moment's warning to any point where you may feel the need of military support in the discharge of your duty."

"But, Lieutenant—"

"I tell you I have said all I am going to say," broke in the military man, angered quite as much by the man's imbecility as by his obvious cowardice. "I await any requisition you may make upon me for military support, and I will instantly respond to every such requisition. As to advice, I have none to offer. When we go back down the mountain, you doubtless will make your report. I will make mine also. Good night, sir."

And with that the lieutenant strode away to his camp fire out under the bluff, gave his orders for the night and went to sleep with a clear conscience.