“What is it, Whitley?”
“Men have passed here, sir, and, as they couldn’t have been ours, they were the enemy. The tracks lead south on the slope, and they must have been going that way to join Slade’s command.”
“Then you think, Sergeant, we should follow this trail?”
“Undoubtedly, sir, but we must look out for an ambush. These men know the mountains thoroughly, and if we were to walk into their trap they might cut us to pieces.”
“Then we won’t walk into it. Lead on, Sergeant. If the enemy is near, I know that you will find him in time.”
The sergeant’s brown face flushed with pride, but he followed on the trail without a word and behind him came the whole regiment, implicit in its trust, and winding without noise like a great coiling serpent through the forest.
Dick was a woodsman himself, and he kept close to the sergeant, watching his methods, and seeking also what he could find. While they lost the trail now and then, he saw the sergeant recover it in the openings. He noted, too, that it was increasing in size. Little trails were flowing into the big one like brooks into a river, and the main course was uniformly south, but bearing slightly upward on the slope.
The sergeant stopped at the melancholy cry of an owl, apparently three or four hundred yards ahead. Both he and Dick raised their heads and listened for the answer, which they felt sure was ready. The long, sinister hoot in reply came from a point considerably farther away, but at about the same height on the slope.
“They have two forces, sir,” said the sergeant to Colonel Winchester, “and I think they’re about to unite.”
“As a wilderness fighter, what would you suggest, Sergeant?”
“To wait here a little and lie hidden in the brush. We’re rightly afraid of an ambush if we go on, then why not make the same danger theirs? I think it likely that the other force is coming this way. Anyway, we can tell in a minute or two, ’cause them owls are sure to hoot again. If I’m right, we can catch ’em napping.”
“An excellent idea, Sergeant. Ah! there are the signals you predicted!”
The owl hooted again from the same point directly in front, and then came the reply of the other, now nearer. The sergeant drew a deep breath of satisfaction.
“Yes, sir, I was right,” he said. “Their meeting place is straight in front. Will you let me slip forward a little through the brush and see?”
“Go ahead, Sergeant. We need all the information we can get, but don’t walk into any trap yourself, leaving us here without eyes or ears.”
“Never fear, sir. I won’t be caught.”
Then he disappeared with a suddenness that made the colonel and Dick gasp. He was with them, and then he was not. But he returned in ten minutes, and, although Dick could not see it in his face, he was triumphant.
“There’s a glade not more’n four hundred yards ahead,” he whispered to the colonel, “and about a hundred and fifty men, armed with long rifles, are lying down in it waiting for a second force, which I judge from the cry of the owl will be there inside of five minutes.”
“Then,” said Colonel Winchester, breathing fast, “we’ll wait ten minutes and attack. It would be a great stroke to wipe out Slade’s band. I’m sorry for those Ohio fellows, but the luck’s ours to-night, or I should say that the sergeant’s skill as a trailer has given us the chance.”
It was soon known along the black, winding line that the enemy was at hand, and the men were eager to attack, but they were ordered to have patience for a little while. Their leader wished to destroy Slade’s whole force at one stroke.
Colonel Winchester took out his watch and held it before him in the faint moonlight. He would not move until the ten minutes exactly had passed. Then he closed the watch and gave the signal, but stationed officers along the line to see that the men made as little noise as possible. The long black column moved again through the forest and Dick, full of excitement was at its head with the colonel and the sergeant.