CHAPTER XXVII
MAJOR LYON PLAYS THE PART OF A SPY
Major Dexter Lyon had made up his mind that a portion of the hostile sharpshooters were concealed upon the narrow island in the centre of the stream known as Duff's Claim. Several shots had been fired, and both he and Life Knox had come to the conclusion that these had come from the heavily wooded strip of land.
The major was very anxious to know what the sharpshooters were doing in this vicinity. No Union force had been in the neighborhood for forty-eight hours, and why should the enemy send such expert shots to such a spot unless it was known that they were wanted? Surely the Confederates had no sharpshooters to spare on a mere excursion into these woods.
The major was in the habit of thinking rapidly, and his conclusion was, that the sharpshooters were guarding something, which must, necessarily, be of value, especially to the army. His mind went back to the time when he had captured the ammunition and gun on the raft. Would it be his good fortune to make another haul of as much, or greater, worth?
It must be remembered that at this time the Riverlawns knew nothing of the great battle which General Thomas had precipitated by sending out troops to capture the brigade supposed to be isolated from the remainder of the Confederate command. To be sure, heavy firing was springing up here and there, but then there had been heavy firing before which had amounted to but very little when it came to summing up results.
When Deck had been conversing with Life, his eye had been caught by two gigantic willow trees growing along the banks of Duff's Claim. One tree was along the shore where the Kentuckian's men lay concealed; the other grew on the shore of the island, directly opposite. Both trees were bent and twisted, and their branches interlocked some fifteen feet above the stream's surface.
Perhaps the task Deck had set for himself may look easy to the average reader, but it was not altogether so, and the major realized this. The willows were old, and old trees often have rotten limbs which break when least expected. Moreover green willow limbs are very pliable and bend and twist beyond expectation. Under ordinary circumstances, Deck would not have minded a tumble into the stream, but he knew that a tumble now would bring a shot meant to be fatal and one which would most likely prove so.
For Deck had decided to cross the stream by climbing up the tree nearest to him and making his way from one set of branches to the next. The tree was easily gained; and catching a limb on the side away from the water, he hauled himself up. Two minutes more, and he was at the point where he could grasp the branches which came from the opposite shore.