‘You’ll git ’em before long,’ answered the sergeant. ‘You bet.’
‘Whar air we gwine ter?’ next inquired Ephraim.
‘Oh, shet yer head,’ retorted the sergeant. ‘You’ll know when ye git thar. Yew two “Trailing Terrors” is going ter hev one day’s gunning this time, I tell yew.’
Ephraim glanced again at Lucius. The boy’s head was erect, and his face was flushed; but though his eyes glittered with excitement, he met his comrade’s look boldly and confidently as he marched along with easy swinging step. He certainly had not the appearance of one who was afraid.
Grizzly heaved a breath of relief. Despite his loyalty, his thoughts would recur to that scene in the balloon; but now, though full of fears for his friend’s safety, the old pride in him revived in full force, and he knew that, whatever desperate move their dangerous position might necessitate, he would be able to count upon Luce’s cool and hearty co-operation. His feelings insisted upon expression, and slily grasping Luce’s arm, he gave it a fervent squeeze. In return, the boy smiled up at him.
‘I dunno what’s goin’ ter happen,’ thought Grizzly; ‘but I ’low it’ll be funny ef they kin persuade Luce and me ter shoot our own friends. By time! Luce war sot on seein’ a battle, and I reckon he’s goin’ ter hev his way this time, same ez always. On’y, things hes got twisted upside down most outrageous. And it’s all along er me, too.’ A sharp pang of generous self-reproach shot through him; but the current of his reflections was rudely turned aside by the loud, abrupt command:
The blue ranks stood fast, awaiting the next order.
It rang out, followed by others in rapid succession. ‘Form line on the leading company! Remaining companies four paces on the right backwards—wheel! Quick march! Number one, eyes right—dress! Eyes front! Number two, halt—dress! Eyes front! Form line! Quick march! Number one, number two, number four, right—wheel! Halt—dress up! Eyes front! Steady!’ And so the column moved into line.
Lucius was the front man of his file, Ephraim the rear, and when the rush and hurry of the movement were past, and they had opportunity for observation, their eyes rested upon a strange and unfamiliar scene.
They had reached Port Republic, the streets of which were swarming with Federal cavalry, the advance of Shields’s army, who had dashed into the village by the fords of the South Fork; while a couple of field-pieces rumbled along to take up an advantageous position. Right in front, over the rolling Shenandoah ran the long wooden bridge, so much coveted by the Federal commander as the key to Jackson’s position, and one of the field-pieces had nearly reached the end which abutted on the village. On the heights upon the opposite side of the river could be seen Confederate horsemen and the pickets who had been driven in, fleeing for their lives upon their supports. From the other end of the village came the crackling rattle of musketry, telling that a stand of some sort was being made, though what or where they could not see. Only, overhead the bullets sang with angry, venomous _wheep_! And Lucius, unaccustomed to the fearsome sound, felt his head duck of its own accord, so close did the fatal singing seem to his ear.