In the Saddle

by Oliver Optic

The night passed without any alarm. The sentinels were relieved at regular intervals, including the two who patrolled the by-road. The latter complained, when others were put in their places, that they might as well be asleep in the camp, for they could see nothing of the Texans. There was only one place where they could obtain a view of them when it was light enough for them to see anything.

The night was unusually dark, for a heavy mass of black clouds had rolled up from the west, promising a smart shower. The Rangers had extinguished their fires at an early hour in the evening, for what reason the guards were unable to determine; but the fact was suspicious, and they redoubled their vigilance. The last that had been seen of the bemired troopers, they were building the causeway of hay to unite with the one of solid rocks and earth built by the farmer to obtain access to his hay-field.

This causeway was believed to be the only possible way to get on or off the meadow. Captain Gordon had made a survey of the locality in person, and had gone up the road as far as the house of the farmer, the only one in the vicinity. He had met the native in his walk, and had questioned him with all the skill he possessed in regard to the surroundings; for the fellow was not disposed to give any information. The only statement of any importance he could drag out of him was that the causeway was the only way by which the Texans could leave the meadow. The captain could see none himself, though he believed from his manner that the man was lying to him.

The place looked as though there had been an immense sink-hole there at some remote period in the past, which had been filled up by the wash from the hills around it. This flow had brought down quantities of dry leaves and other vegetable matter; and this, with the growth of rank grass and weeds decaying on the spot, had formed what is called a bog in Ireland, and a peat meadow in the Northern States.

There was fuel enough in it to supply a village for a hundred years; but wood was so plentiful in this region that it would not pay to cut, dry, and carry it to more solid ground. Whether the captain was satisfied or nor with his investigations, he could obtain no further information. The meadow seemed to be surrounded with rocky formations; though his knowledge of it, obtained in the darkness, was very imperfect. But he and his men had seen the troopers laying the causeway of hay to the one of earth, as though they believed this was the only avenue of escape.

The two sentinels extended their beat as far as the farmer's house. After nine o'clock in the evening its windows were dark, and the people within appeared to have retired. But the big dog of the native did not retire with the rest of the family, and he made a rude attack upon the guards every time they approached the house. About midnight he had assailed one of the men so furiously that he was obliged to defend himself with his sabre; and the brute was so badly wounded that nothing more was seen of him. His dead body was found the next morning near the house; and the farmer was as furious as the canine had been, though he had a proper respect for carbines and sabres.

When the guard was relieved after midnight, all was quiet on the meadow, and it was believed that the troopers had taken to their blankets. One of the sentinels declared that he could hear them snore; but this was doubtless a camp-fire exaggeration. They watched the causeway, as they had been instructed to do; and certainly none of the Texans came out that way. One of them proposed to explore the space between the by-road and the position of the troopers; but the other insisted that such an enterprise would result in certain death, for no doubt the enemy had sentinels whose carbines were loaded with ball cartridges.

So far as the guards could report, there was no change at the by-road during the night. The headquarters tent had been pitched, and Major Lyon had been up half the night studying his maps, and repeatedly reading the written orders he had received, as well as a mass of newspaper cuttings which had been sent with them. The latter were, for the most part, accounts of outrages committed by Confederate cavalry of companies of "Partisan Rangers," and of bands who were not provided with even the doubtful authority of the insurrectionary government.

Before daylight in the morning Major Lyon was on his feet; for he felt that he was loaded with a heavy responsibility. He was charged with the protection of the railroad bridges in the vicinity, though he was to be immediately relieved from this duty to enable him to assist with the more vigor in suppressing the guerillas and other predatory bands. Artie, now his orderly, slept in the tent with him, and he was sent to have "The Assembly of Buglers" sounded; and this is the call for the troopers to appear on the parade.