“You’re probably right, Langdon,” said Captain Sherburne, “but it’s time for us to be going back, and we’ll tell what we’ve seen to General Jackson.”
As they turned away a crunching in the snow on the other slope caused them to stop. The faces of men and then their figures appeared through the bushes. They were eight or ten in number and all wore blue uniforms. Harry saw the leader, and instantly he recognized Shepard. It came to him, too, in a flash of prescience, that Shepard was just the man whom he would meet there.
Sherburne, who had seen the blue uniforms, raised a pistol and fired. Two shots were fired by the Union men at the same instant, and then both parties dropped back from the crest, each on its own side.
Sherburne’s men were untouched and Harry was confident that Shepard’s had been equally lucky-the shots had been too hasty-but it was nervous and uncomfortable work, lying there in the snow, and waiting for the head of an enemy to appear over the crest.
Harry was near Captain Sherburne, and he whispered to him:
“I know the man whose face appeared first through the bushes.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Shepard. He’s a spy and scout for the North, and he is brave and dangerous. He was in Montgomery when President Davis was inaugurated. I saw him in Washington when I was there as a spy myself. I saw him again in Winchester just before the battle of Kernstown, and now here he is once more.”
“Must be a Wandering Jew sort of a fellow.”
“He wanders with purpose. He has certainly come up here to spy us out.”
“In which he is no more guilty than we are.”
“That’s true, but what are we going to do about it, captain?”
“Blessed if I know. Wait till I take a look.”
Captain Sherburne raised himself a little, in order to peep over the crest of the ridge. A rifle cracked on the other side, a bullet clipped the top of his cap, and he dropped back in the snow, unhurt but startled.
“This man, Shepard, is fully as dangerous as you claim him to be,” he said to Harry.
“Can you see anything of them?” asked St. Clair.
“Not a thing,” said Harry.
“If we show they shoot, and if they show we shoot,” said Langdon. “Seems to me it’s about the most beautiful case of checkmate that I’ve known.”
“Perhaps we can stalk them,” said St. Clair.
“And perhaps they can stalk us,” said Langdon. “But I think both sides are afraid to try it.”
“You’re right, Langdon,” said Captain Sherburne, “It’s a case of checkmate. I confess that I don’t know what to do.”
“We could wait here while they waited too, and if we waited long enough it would get so dark we couldn’t see each other. But captain, you are a kind-hearted and sympathetic man, do you see any fun in sitting in the snow on top of a mountain, waiting to kill men whom you don’t want to kill or to be killed by men who don’t want to kill you?”
“No, Tom, I don’t,” replied Captain Sherburne with a laugh, “and you’re talking mighty sound sense. This is not like a regular battle. We’ve nothing to gain by shooting those men, and they’ve nothing to gain by shooting us. The Massanuttons extend a long distance and there’s nothing to keep scouts and spies from climbing them at other places. We’ll go away from here.”
He gave the order. They rose and crept as softly as they could through the snow and bushes down the side of the mountain. Harry looked back occasionally, but he saw no faces appear on the crest. Soon he heard Langdon who was beside him laughing softly to himself.
“What’s the matter, Tom?” he asked.
“Harry, if I could take my pistol and shoot straight through this mountain the bullet when it came out on the other side would hit a soldier in blue clothes, going at the same rate of speed down the mountain.”
“More than likely you’re right, Tom, if they’re sensible, and that man Shepard certainly is.”