The Courier of the Ozarks. Dunn Byron Archibald

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СКАЧАТЬ and I must think up a bit of strategy in the meantime."

      "All right," said Dan, biting off a big chew from the plug he was holding, and restoring the rest to his pocket. If the decision had been against a fight, Dan would have put the plug back without taking a chew. When Dan put his tobacco back unbitten, it was always an infallible sign that something had gone in a way that did not suit him.

      That Lawrence and Dan had fixed up that bit of strategy was evident, for just as darkness was closing in, Lawrence ordered the scouts to stop long enough to gather a good feed of corn for their horses, from a near-by field. Then they rode on and camped in a wood, some little distance from the road.

      "The guerrillas will not now attack us until some time in the night," he said, "thinking to surprise us."

      He gave orders for the horses to be tethered a little distance in the rear of the camp, where they would be sheltered. "Hitch them so you can loose them in a twinkling, if it becomes necessary," he ordered.

      Then he told the men they might build a fire, make some coffee, and roast some corn, if they wished.

      "Had we not better dig a hole for the fire, and screen it with blankets?" suggested one of the men. "A light might give us away."

      "Just what I want it to do," answered Lawrence, to the astonishment of all but Dan and Harry.

      Lawrence then explained to his men his plan: "The guerrillas will attack us some time during the night, thinking to surprise us. I want the surprise the other way. Therefore I propose to camp as if we were unconscious of danger. The fire is to be left, not too bright, but smouldering enough to give a little light. Each man of you is to prepare a dummy. A log with a blanket around it will do. These will be placed in a row a short distance from the fire. In the dim light they will look exactly like a row of sleeping men. Last of all, we will fix a dummy sentinel, leaning against a tree as if asleep.

      "We will all lie down a little to one side in the bush. Then, when the guerrillas charge on the supposed sleeping camp, give it to them. If things go wrong, each man make for his horse, and get away the best he can. Make for Mexico."

      These instructions were obeyed implicitly, and soon the camp was buried in apparent slumber.

      To make sure they were right, the guerrillas had inquired at the first house they passed, and were told that a small party of men had passed but a short time before.

      "We are on the right track, boys," exclaimed Duncan, gleefully, "and if they don't take the alarm and dodge us in the dark, they are ours. We must not press them too closely. Let them go into camp, and we will get them when they are asleep."

      Just as darkness began to fall, Duncan became fearful that the scouts would not halt, but keep on for Mexico, and he gave orders to gallop, but concluded to stop at the first house and inquire. He did so, and an old man came to the door, and in answer to his inquiry replied that a party whom he supposed to be guerrillas passed just before dark. "Confound them!" he exclaimed, "they stopped at my cornfield and gathered a good feed for their horses, and never said even 'Thank you.' They are camped in the woods about half a mile ahead, for I saw the gleam of the campfire. I am going down in the morning, and see if I can't collect for that corn."

      "We will collect it for you," chuckled Duncan, "and while we are about it we will collect enough to pay for a feed for our horses. There are sixty or seventy of us. Them fellers are not our men; they are Yanks."

      "Good land!" exclaimed the old fellow.

      "Don't worry – we'll collect for that corn, all right," said Duncan.

      The guerrillas waited until ten o'clock, then approached the wood as near as they dared, and Duncan sent two of his men ahead to spy upon the camp. They were gone so long that Duncan began to be impatient, but at last they returned, and their report was all that could be wished.

      "We almost crept on them before we discovered them," said one. "The fools do not seem suspicious of any danger. They have but one man on guard, and sure as shooting he is leaning against a tree, sound asleep. It will be no trick to send them to the devil as they sleep."

      "And to the devil we will send them," growled Duncan. "Understand, no quarter."

      "The dawg? Didn't you see the dawg?" asked Hicks, anxiously.

      "That dawg seems to trouble you, Hicks," sneered one of the men.

      "He would trouble yo' un if yo' un had had the experience I have," retorted Hicks. "I tell you I don't like it. Them Yanks seem too blame careless. It ain't like them. An' that dawg – didn't he make no fuss when yo' un crept up?"

      "Not a bit. If thar was any dawg, he must have been asleep, too."

      "I tell yo' un I don't like it. Thar is something wrong. That dawg – "

      "Shut up," commanded Duncan. "Josh, if you are afraid of a dawg, stay with the hosses. Some of the boys will have to stay, and there is not one, unless it is you, but wants a hand in this job."

      "Yes, stay, Josh, stay!" jeered the men. "Josh is getting skeery. He is afraid of a dawg."

      "Stay nothin'!" snorted Josh, mad as a hornet. "An' if any of yo' uns insinuates I am afraid, yo' uns will have to settle with Josh Hicks, an' that mighty quick."

      "No quarrelling, boys," commanded Duncan. "Josh is all right. Don't want to stay with the hosses, Josh?"

      "Not by a thundering sight."

      "All right, Josh, we will give you the first crack at that boy, the owner of the dawg, to settle old scores."

      They were to creep up on the scouts and kill them as they slept. If an alarm was given, they were to rush on them and make quick work of it.

      Slowly the guerrillas worked their way through the wood, as noiselessly and stealthily as Indians. By the dim light of the campfire they saw what they supposed were the sleeping forms of their enemies. The sentinel stood leaning against a tree, his head on his breast, apparently sound asleep.

      The sentinel was right in front of Josh Hicks. He drew a huge knife, his eyes gleaming with hate and cruelty. Nearer and nearer he crept, then sprang forward and buried his knife in the bosom of the supposed man, but instead of striking flesh and bone, he struck a log of wood, and so fierce was the blow he could not withdraw the knife.

      As he struck there was a hoarse growl, a huge form shot through the air, and the teeth of Bruno were buried in his throat. He gave a blood-curdling yell, which died away in a sickening gurgle.

      The guerrillas, thinking themselves discovered, rushed upon the sleeping forms. As they came into the light, the woods to the right and left burst into flame. Men reeled and, clutching the air, fell. The wood resounded with horrid curses, groans, and yells of terror.

      Firing a random volley, those that lived turned and fled, pursued by the scouts. The battle was soon over. A full third of the attacking force lay on the ground, dead or grievously wounded. But of all the dead, there was none so ghastly as Josh Hicks. He lay with his throat torn in shreds, and on his face there was still a look of mortal terror.

      The next morning, when the guerrillas came creeping back to bury their dead and care for the wounded, a feeling of superstitious awe crept over them when they saw the body of Josh Hicks.

      "That dawg – that dawg!" they whispered. "Poor Josh! He must have had a presentiment."

      From that time on Bruno was to them an uncanny beast, СКАЧАТЬ