Six hours before the occurrence narrated here, a solitary horseman, mounted on a strong charger, might have been seen galloping along the highways, and thridding the bridle-paths of the voting precinct, since famous as Crow Hide township. Except a brace of pistols attached to the pommel of his saddle, and a something in his deportment which said as plainly as words, “stand out of the way,” there was nothing in the appearance of the cavalier to excite special wonder; yet he succeeded so well in drawing upon himself the attention of mortality thereabouts that there was scarce an inhabitant in all Crow Hide who had not obtained a glimpse of himself, or his foam-flecked steed, as they flashed by, convoyed by clouds of dust, and imprecated by all the choristers of the farm-yard. The windows of habitations along the route were thrown open ere the apparition was fairly in sight; children at play were attracted by the strange cynosure, and hurried to obtain counsel of parents regarding it; horsemen, who were met under whip and spur, drew rein suddenly, and gazed anxiously after their strange counterpart, and anon, as if slow in making up their minds at the object which hid him from view; and in fact it was as clearly apparent, to even such of the hogs and chickens as were not frightened out of their wits, that a seven days’ wonder was being enacted in Crow Hide, as it was to more sentient creatures that the intangible something in the wind was not lawful subject for gossip. But if the majority were involved in doubt, and resolved to forget the incident as the most comfortable way of disposing of it, some there were who had cracked the conundrum, as was evident from their knowing deportment, their desire to avoid conversation on this topic, and finally, a disposition, plainly manifested, to convert the remainder of the afternoon into a holiday season.
As the twilight hour approached, stables were visited, trappings placed in readiness, and all those indispensables of a scout’s toilet which might be performed in secrecy, executed. These preparations required brief time, and within an hour after night had fallen, steeds were being caparisoned, riders were mounting in hot haste and moving off by clandestine routes, the roads were filling with cavalcades of armed men, who seemed bent on some undertaking of “pith and moment;” and all these movements proceeding with such secrecy that even the watch-dogs of the vicinity, though vaguely notified of the affair, hesitated to interfere. Though moving by different routes, the various squadrons seemed tending to a common rendezvous (located at a point on the outskirts of the settlement), a fact which was made further apparent by the constant recruits which were being added to each, at points where the highway was intersected by country-roads and by-paths.
Approaching a dense forest, a sound resembling the hooting of an owl was heard, and, turning their horses’ heads in the direction whence it proceeded, the various companies, as yet unorganized, galloped forward. The Grand Cyclops of Den No. 5, Realm No. 3, accompanied by two of his faithful Night-Hawks (scouts of the body), had been on the ground in advance of his most punctual followers, and when the magic circle had been formed, and the password circulated, that officer presented himself in their midst, and by the use of a monosyllable, whose signification was understood by all, indicated that the council-fires would not be lighted. Nothing was added, and no word spoken in reply; but so thoroughly had his full meaning been anticipated, that, within thirty minutes from the time this vague proclamation was issued, the weird brotherhood had dispersed, and, in full raiding costume and bearing aloft the banners of the order, were awaiting the commands of their trusted leader at a point two miles distant. The command moved in obedience to signs, and on this occasion, notified by a signal which must have been unintelligible to persons not versed in their strange drill, they wheeled rapidly into line, and instantly broke off from the right of the column in double files, the leaders pushing their horses to a gallop. No word was spoken as the command moved, and so completely had that ghostly spell that attended all the movements of the night-riders fallen upon the weird column, that even the horses trod warily, and beasts of the forest, startled by a glimpse of the dim procession, in vain consulted their organs of hearing for confirmatory sounds.
This body of raiders was that viewed from the sick chamber in the Thorburn mansion, described in the opening of this chapter; and we shall seek at this juncture to present to the reader a pen-picture of the formidable apparition as it passed along the highway, in full view, and within fifty paces of the groups of excited observers who looked out from its windows.
Perhaps the feature of the pageant that would have been soonest apparent to the beholder was that representing its means of locomotion. The horses of the raid were powerful specimens of their race, and furnished with all those cap-a-pie appointments of K. K. K. regalia that were prominent in other departments of the expedition. Their bodies were completely enveloped in curtains of black cloth, worn under the saddle, and fastened at the neck to a corselet of the same material, the skirts of the former extending below their knees. Over their heads were masks, much of the same description as those worn by their riders, the material being of a dark color, and openings of suitable width having been contrived for the eyes and nostrils. Each steed was decorated also with a white plume, carried vertically above the head; and on the right and left of the housings of black cloth which enveloped their bodies, appeared the mystical letters K. K. K. Their trappings otherwise were army saddles of uniform pattern, and bridles supplied with the regulation bit, used in both armies at the close of the war.
The riders who bestrode these steeds were even more fantastically arrayed, and in the uniforms which they wore the same sacrifice of taste to picturesqueness was to be observed. The most prominent feature of their ghostly toilet was a long black robe, extending from the head to the feet, and decorated with innumerable tin buttons, an inch and a half in diameter, which, under the influence of the starlight, shone like miniature moons. These robes were slit in front and rear, in order that they might not impede the movements of the rider, and were secured about the waist with scarfs of red silk. Over their faces they wore masks of some heavy material; the apertures for the eyes, nose, and mouth (which were ample for these purposes) being lined with red cloth. The head-dress was even more unique, and consisted of tall black caps, helmet-shaped, and provided with havelocks, resembling those used by the military in the late war. These were also decorated with the regulation button, and, when worn by officers of commissioned rank, supplemented by gorgeous plumes, white, red, or blue, according to rank. Each individual wore about his waist, in addition to the scarf to which we have called attention, a belt supporting two large army pistols, in scabbards; and on the flaps of the latter, embroidered in white characters, appeared the devices of the order—skull and cross-bones, and mystical K. K. K. The banners which were three in number, and carried at intervals in the procession, were of black silk, supporting in the centre two lions rampant on either side of the regulation skull and cross-bones, and on the right, left, and middle, at top, the mystic “K.”
Absolute stillness reigned over the weird column, no man being permitted to speak, even in a whisper, while the large bridle-bits, Texas spurs, and other appendages of a cavalry outfit likely to create alarm in passing through quiet neighborhoods were carefully muffled. These details completed the unsightly pageant; and of the party who viewed it, as it moved, at funereal pace, through the moonlit precincts of the Thorburn estate, on the evening referred to, no individual ever forgot the scene, or was ever known to whisper an irreverent word concerning the objects, plans, or creed of the festive K. K. K.