The Architecture of the Arkansas Ozarks - Donald Harington [73]
The pursuing cavalry were as scattered as their quarry, and Jacob found himself separated from the others, alone in a holler of Big Piney Creek, where he was chasing a Rebel soldier. The soldier was on foot, and Jacob soon caught up with him. The soldier turned to face him and to fire at him, and Jacob discovered that it was Noah.
Before Noah could fire, Jacob yelled, “Hey, Noey! It’s me, Jake!”
Noah did not lower his rifle. “Shit,” he said, “fire.”
Instinctively Jacob brought his rifle up and sighted, to protect himself, but he went on talking, “This is foolish, Noah. This is crazy.”
“Shit,” said Noah again, “fire,” and squeezed the trigger.
In the same instant Jacob returned his fire. These brothers, like all the Ozark mountain men, were sharpshooters. Each had aimed precisely at the other’s left eye, the sighting eye. Thus, their bullets met midway between them, collided and fused into a lump of lead, and dropped to the earth. They fired again, and again their bullets collided between them.
“SHIT!” Noah hollered. “FIRE!”
His voice startled Jacob’s horse, and the horse’s sudden movement spoiled his aim. Their third bullets, instead of colliding in midair, missed each other. Noah’s bullet hit Jacob in the shoulder. Jacob’s bullet hit Noah in the heart.
Major Melton granted a one-week furlough to Jacob so that he could return to Stay More for his brother’s funeral. Noah was buried near Murray Swain in the cemetery on Swains Creek. His tombstone, which even today somebody always covers with flowers on the anniversary of his death, says simply “Corp. Noah L. Ingledew, C.S.A.,” followed by his dates of birth and death, and the simple inscription, “Who was right.” Undoubtedly, unquestionably, a question mark was intended to follow these words, but perhaps the stonecutter did not know how to cut one, with the resultant ambiguity suggesting that Noah might have been right. Or perhaps he was; I am just guessing.
The people of Stay More felt such great sorrow for Jacob Ingledew that they could not possibly conceive of a single adequate word of condolence that might be spoken to him; consequently no one spoke to Jacob, and he mistakenly interpreted this as a sign of their scorn or derision, which he felt he justly deserved. Not even his own wife Sarah could think of any words adequate to express her sorrow and her pity for him. All she could do, by way of solace, was to make herself freely available in bed, but Jacob did not think that copulation was appropriate in a time of bereavement, so he rejected her offering. He spent much of his time standing by Swains Creek beneath the sycamore tree in which Noah’s treehouse was perched, staring up at it. Over and over again in his mind he relived the last moments of Noah’s life, trying to figure out what was going through Noah’s mind. He realized that Noah must have seen many of his fellow soldiers killed by Major Melton’s troops (altogether, in the skirmish of Limestone Valley, thirty Rebels were killed, forty-three were wounded, and eight taken prisoner) and that Noah suddenly knew that the game of war was no longer a game, that it was now: kill or be killed. But his own brother? Had Noah really believed that Jacob would kill him? But Jacob knew that he himself was thinking along similar lines during those tense moments.
In time he reached the point where he realized that thinking was useless, and took a vow to quit thinking. Then he seriously considered shooting himself, but realized that in order to do that he would have to think about it, and if he had taken a vow to quit thinking he couldn’t do it. So he didn’t. For the rest of his furlough he did not think a single thought, and thus when his furlough was over he did not know it. Major Melton had to come and get him. Major Melton was impressed that his speech on the superiority of patriotism over brotherhood had had such a dramatic effect