The Red Acorn [72]
Debby's mare, sending a bullet through the faithful animal, which sank to her knees, and threw her rider to the ground. Without waiting to rise, and he was not certain that he could, Abe fired his musket, but missed both man and horse. He scrambled to his feet, and ran furiously at the Rebel with raised gun. The Sergeant fired wildly at him, when Bolton struck the animal a violent blow across the head. It recoiled, slipped, and in another instant had fallen over the side of the road, and crushed his rider on the rocks below. Five of the wagon-guard who were riding ahead of the wagon galloped forward at the sound of the shots. Fortner, Edwards and Harry Glen fired into these, and three saddles were emptied. The remaining two men whirled their horses around, fired wildly into the air, and dashed back upon the plunging team, with which the driver was vainly struggling. The ground quivered as the frightened animals struck together; they were crushed back upon their haunches, and beat one another cruelly with their mighty hoofs. Wagon, horses and men reeled on the brink an agonizing instant; the white-faced driver dropped the lines and sprang to the secure ground; the riders strained with the energy of deadly fear to tear themselves loose from their steeds, but in vain. Then the frantic mess crashed down the jagged rocks, tearing up the stunted cedars as if they were weeds, and fell with a sounding splash on the limestone bed of the shallow creek.
Fortner, Glen and Edwards came down as quickly as possible, the latter spraining his ankle badly by making a venturesome leap to reach the road first. They found a man that Fortner had shot at stone dead, with a bullet through his temple. The other two had been struck in the body. Their horses stood near, looking wonderingly at their prostrate masters.
Bolton was rubbing his bruises and abrasions, and vituperating everything, from the conduct of the war to the steepness of Kentucky mountains. Aunt Debby had partially recovered from the stunning of her fall, and limped slowly up, with her long riding-skirt raised by one hand. Her lips were compressed, an her great gray eyes blazed with excitement.
They all went to the side of the road, and looked down at the crushed and bleeding mass in the creek.
"My God! that's awful," said Henry, with a rising sickness about his heart, as the excitement began subsiding.
"Plenty good enuf fur scoundrels who rob poor men of all they hev," said Fortner fiercely, as he re-loaded his rifle. "Hit's not bad enuf fur thieves an' robbers."
"Hit's God's judgement on the wicked an' the opporessor," said Aunt Debby, with solemn pitilessness.
"Hadn't we better try to get down there, and help those men out?" suggested Harry. "Perhaps they are not dead yet."
"Aunt Debby, thet thar hoss thet's rain' his head an' whinnyin'," said Fortner, with sudden interest, "is Joel Sprigg's roan geldin', sho's yore bo'n, honey." He pointed to where a shapely head was raised, and almost human agony looked out of great liquid eyes. "Thet wuz the finest hoss in Laurel County, an' they've stole 'im from Joel. Hit'll 'bout break his heart, fur he set a powerful sight o'store on thet there beast. Pore critter! hit makes me sick ter see 'im suffer thet-a-way! I've a mind ter put 'im outen his misery, but I'm afeered I can't shoot 'im, so long ez he looks at me with them big pitiful eyes o' his'n. They go right ter my heart."
"You'd better shoot him," urged Aunt Debby. "Hit's a si ter let an innocent critter suffer thet-a-way."
Fortner raised his rifle, and sent a bullet through the mangled brute's brain.
Aunt Debby's eyes became fixed on a point where, a mile away down the mountain, a bend in the road was visible through an opening in the trees.
"Look out," she said, as the echoes of the shot died away, "thar comes a hull lot on 'em."
They looked and saw plainly a large squad of cavalry, with a wagon behind.
"We must get outen heah, an' thet quick," said Fortner decisively. He caught one of the horses and shortened a stirrup
Fortner, Glen and Edwards came down as quickly as possible, the latter spraining his ankle badly by making a venturesome leap to reach the road first. They found a man that Fortner had shot at stone dead, with a bullet through his temple. The other two had been struck in the body. Their horses stood near, looking wonderingly at their prostrate masters.
Bolton was rubbing his bruises and abrasions, and vituperating everything, from the conduct of the war to the steepness of Kentucky mountains. Aunt Debby had partially recovered from the stunning of her fall, and limped slowly up, with her long riding-skirt raised by one hand. Her lips were compressed, an her great gray eyes blazed with excitement.
They all went to the side of the road, and looked down at the crushed and bleeding mass in the creek.
"My God! that's awful," said Henry, with a rising sickness about his heart, as the excitement began subsiding.
"Plenty good enuf fur scoundrels who rob poor men of all they hev," said Fortner fiercely, as he re-loaded his rifle. "Hit's not bad enuf fur thieves an' robbers."
"Hit's God's judgement on the wicked an' the opporessor," said Aunt Debby, with solemn pitilessness.
"Hadn't we better try to get down there, and help those men out?" suggested Harry. "Perhaps they are not dead yet."
"Aunt Debby, thet thar hoss thet's rain' his head an' whinnyin'," said Fortner, with sudden interest, "is Joel Sprigg's roan geldin', sho's yore bo'n, honey." He pointed to where a shapely head was raised, and almost human agony looked out of great liquid eyes. "Thet wuz the finest hoss in Laurel County, an' they've stole 'im from Joel. Hit'll 'bout break his heart, fur he set a powerful sight o'store on thet there beast. Pore critter! hit makes me sick ter see 'im suffer thet-a-way! I've a mind ter put 'im outen his misery, but I'm afeered I can't shoot 'im, so long ez he looks at me with them big pitiful eyes o' his'n. They go right ter my heart."
"You'd better shoot him," urged Aunt Debby. "Hit's a si ter let an innocent critter suffer thet-a-way."
Fortner raised his rifle, and sent a bullet through the mangled brute's brain.
Aunt Debby's eyes became fixed on a point where, a mile away down the mountain, a bend in the road was visible through an opening in the trees.
"Look out," she said, as the echoes of the shot died away, "thar comes a hull lot on 'em."
They looked and saw plainly a large squad of cavalry, with a wagon behind.
"We must get outen heah, an' thet quick," said Fortner decisively. He caught one of the horses and shortened a stirrup