The Border Spy; or, The Beautiful Captive of the Rebel Camp

by Harry Hazelton

  Produced by David Edwards, Martin Pettit and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)

  +-------------------------------------------------+|Transcriber's note: || ||Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. || |+-------------------------------------------------+

  THE BORDER SPY;

  OR,

  THE BEAUTIFUL CAPTIVE OF THE REBEL CAMP.

  A STORY OF THE WAR.

  BY LIEUT. COL. HAZELTINE,FORMERLY CAPT. COMPANY A, FREMONT'S BODY GUARD.

  _NEW-YORK_:SINCLAIR TOUSEY, PUBLISHERS' AGENT,No. 121 NASSAU STREET.

  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the Year 1863, by SINCLAIRTOUSEY, Publisher's Agent, in the Clerk's Office of the District Courtof the United States for the Southern District of New York.

  THE BORDER SPY;

  OR THE

  BEAUTIFUL CAPTIVE OF THE REBEL CAMP.

  CHAPTER I.

  _The Rebel General Price--Determination to Fight--The Sleeping Indian--Price Suspects him--He is Bound--Surprise--Escape._

  Let those who fear the spray the torrent flings Retrace their steps--I'll cross the stream, howe'er Its brawlings may disturb me.--_Mrs. Hale._

  "By my soul, it shall be done! Yes, safety, honor, fame, fortune, allrequire it!"

  It was a wild spot. The towering rocks reached to the height of severalhundred feet above the valley below, where rolled the rapid waters ofthe Osage. Upon one of these jutting turrets, stood the speaker. Hislarge form rose above the mountain oaks, standing as he was upon itsmost elevated point. But a close observer could not fail to notice thathe was ill at ease. His eyes were restless, and as they wandered frommountain crag to the valley below, and thence to the far-reachingprairie in the distance, his frame trembled, and his fingersconvulsively clutched his long iron-gray locks, as they were streamingin the morning wind.

  There was nothing remarkable in his dress, except that at such a timeand place he should have worn an elegant sword, which could be seenbeneath a large, dark cloak, thrown carelessly over his shoulders. Inother respects he was without uniform, or any mark indicating themilitary chieftain.

  After gazing for some time upon the surrounding country, he again spoke:

  "Yes, by heavens, it is a land worth fighting for, and I will--"

  The speaker paused, and turning, beheld the approach of the person whohad interrupted his soliloquy. A frown covered his face as he asked:

  "What do you want, Johnson?"

  The answer came, rough and fiercely.

  "Want? revenge!"

  "On whom?" asked the first speaker, as he grasped the hilt of his sword.

  "Not on you, General Price; so don't fear."

  "Fear!" echoed Price, "I fear no man--nothing."

  "Then why do you clutch your sword as I approach?"

  "Because I believe you are treacherous," replied Price.

  "Treacherous! ha! ha! ha! Can I be else, and serve _you_?"

  "But are you faithful to me and my cause?"

  "_Your_ cause!" echoed Johnson. "Why _I_ thought it was your country'scause!"

  "My country's cause is mine," replied Price. "Again I ask you, are youfaithful to me?"

  "Yes!"

  "What assurance have I that you will be faithful?"

  Johnson bowed his head, and did not reply.

  "Answer me," said Price, sternly and suspiciously.

  "General Price," replied Johnson, as he raised his head, and fixed hispiercing eyes upon his questioner, "General Price, I am poor. If I wereor had been a servant in heaven, and the commander-in-chief of theinfernal regions had offered me a position on his staff, to escapeservitude, and for promotion's sake, _not knowing him or his service_, Imight have accepted. In doing so, I should have lost heaven, and in nocase could have returned. Thus, as I would have no choice, I probablyshould serve faithfully in my new capacity, for policy's sake, even if Iwas deceived by the devil's promises. In much this way do I stand towardyou, General Price!"

  "I have not deceived you!"

  "You have! You have lied to me!"

  "Johnson!" yelled Price, as his sword flashed in the morning light, "noman shall address me thus, and live!"

  "Hold, General Price," said Johnson, as he levelled his rifle at hisbreast, "you had better spare those who _must_ serve you, as few arewilling!"

  "Curse him!" muttered Price. "But for policy's sake I must restrainmyself. He shall act the spy this once--it is necessary--or I would dashhim from this rock into the depths below." "Johnson," he added, speakingaloud, "you must not speak thus. It is true I have as yet been unable tofulfil my promises; but consider. We are here facing a powerful army--anarmy of fanatics--of devotees--who will fight to the death, while manyof my soldiers are discontented, and if they fight at all, I fear willdo it unsuccessfully. I have no confidence in many of my men. Why isthis, Johnson?"

  "I can answer, but for one."

  "Then answer for yourself!"

  "I will, I have no confidence in you."

  "You will serve me, nevertheless?"

  "Yes--I am forced to do so!"

  "How forced--by whom forced?"

  "Not by you, General Price, but by myself."

  "Don't you see much to fight for? Look around you. Gaze upon the face ofthis beautiful country. Our enemies come to rob us of it. Shall we, likedogs, submit? No! by the Eternal, I will not!" cried Price, his powerfulframe quivering with emotion.

  "I see but little beauty here. Where is it?"

  "All around--on every side!"

  "I see but one bright spot, and that is--"

  Johnson gazed into the valley below. His look was earnest. As he gazed,the tear-drops started to his eyes, and he bent his head upon his hands,while his breast heaved convulsively. He was deeply moved.

  "Johnson, why are you weeping?" asked Price, as he regarded him with alook of surprise.

  "Am I weeping?" returned Johnson, raising his head.

  "Yes; some sad recollection of the past oppresses you!"

  "Of the past? Yes, of the past, as well as the present, and of thefuture! But tell me what _you_ see here, that you should love thiscountry so much. It is not from associations?"

  "No, only its beauty!"

  "Its beauty? I cannot see it! Where is it?"

  "Shall I describe what I see?"

  "Yes, sir; I am interested to know what _you_ can call beautiful."

  "I will. I am standing here, upon a lofty mountain turret. Below is theOsage. Gaze upon it. Is it not majestical? Yonder it rolls, along themountain's base, now leaping, rushing onward, like a giant army charginga deadly foe, lashing its banks as if it longed to break from itsrestraint, and charge the world. And there it strikes the mountain'sside, and for a moment falters. It will turn aside defeated! Will it?No! It is no coward, and the mountain yields--the mountain falls--theOsage breaks the barrier, and rushes on. And now, all conscious of itsvictory, it pauses for awhile, or gliding gently onward murmurs its ownsong of glory. And listen to the strain. How it rises on the air, and isborne from crag to crag, along the lofty summits to tell that grandarray of its own defeat. Look at that mountain column formed in battleline. It appears impregnable. But its ranks are broken, and its powerdefied. That gap is where the charge was made--that gap tells thestory--its line was broken, and defeat followed. The river wasvictorious!"

  "Good!" echoed Johnson. "What more do you see?"

  "
Mountains and hills where we can defy the world. And yonder is my owncamp."

  "Yes, your camp, containing seventy thousand true and tried soldiers.Those who have shared your victories with you. Seventy thousandsoldiers! ha! ha! ha!"

  "Johnson, I do not like your sarcasm. Better the enemy shouldover-estimate our numbers. It will intimidate them."

  "Intimidate! Whom?"

  "Why, not only the soldiers of the army, but their generals!"

  "Asboth?"

  "Yes!"

  "Sturgis?"

  "Yes!"

  "Hunter?"

  "Yes!"

  "Sigel and Fremont?"

  "Yes; even Sigel and Fremont can be intimidated."

  "Perhaps--by an earthquake, but not by you, General Price. Asboth is asoldier, and does not know the meaning of the word fear. Sturgis--youhave met him once--do you wish to meet him again? Hunter--there islightning in his eyes; if he does not fight, it will be for want of afoe. Sigel--do you remember Wilson's Creek?"

  "But of Fremont--what of him?"

  "He will meet you here, if you dare remain; and his soldiers will comewith him."

  "Well, it may be so. Their army is now at Warsaw. They must be detainedfor some days yet. They are constructing a bridge at that point acrossthe Osage, and you will have sufficient time to visit their camps, andreturn before they advance. If it should be advisable to move, you canapprize us in time."

  "When shall I start?"

  "Now."

  "Well, your instructions."

  "Johnson, I confess I fear to meet that man Fremont. And yet I hate himwith a bitterness which poisons all my joys. Tell him we numberseventy-five thousand fighting men, well armed and disciplined. That weare strongly fortified, and for them to advance would be certain death.Tell him it is a mistake that my soldiers are discontented, but will allfight to the last. Will you tell him this?"

  "I will."

  "Your safety may depend upon it, for I _will_ fight if I am compelled toface him with a single regiment. Last night I held a council with myofficers, and we resolved to make a stand here. To retreat farther willbe to bring shame upon us, and to stamp us as cowards. And I believethere is not a dozen men in my army who would not die before they wouldbe branded as cowardly. I rely upon their pride, rather than theirloyalty."

  "That must be your appeal. Shall I go now?"

  "Yes! Stay, Johnson; return by to-morrow night and tell me Fremont isdead, and you shall be richly rewarded. Tell me Sigel is also dead, andyou shall have command of the second regiment."

  "Sigel and Fremont shall die!"

  "You swear it?"

  "Yes, I swear they _shall_ die, when--"

  The remaining portion of the sentence was inaudible.

  "Ugh!"

  Startled, Price turned to behold, at the base of the rock upon which hewas standing, an Indian, who was, apparently, fast asleep.

  "Do you know that red devil?" asked Price, turning to Johnson.

  "Let me see."

  Johnson bent over the edge of the rock, and for some time remainedsilent. At last he said:

  "'Tis Red-wing, as he is called by the people hereabouts; one of theOsage tribe, I believe. But you will find little good in him, althoughhe might be made serviceable, if you could keep whiskey from him."

  "Red-wing," shouted Price.

  "Ugh!"

  "You red devil, get up and show your colors, or I will send a bulletthrough your head!" exclaimed Johnson.

  There was no reply. Johnson raised his rifle, but the Indian had risen,and fixing a glance of hatred upon Johnson, he said:

  "Give Indian whiskey--me fight for you--me kill for you--give Indianwhiskey."

  Price leaped from the rock, and motioned them to follow. In a fewmoments he reached camp, closely followed by Johnson and the Indian.

  The appearance of the rebel camp was somewhat singular.

  Around the camp-fires were crowds of listless men and boys, who watchedthe approach of their commander with calm indifference. He passed on insilence, occasionally returning the salute of his officers, but did notpause until he reached a tent located upon a high bluff, and almostconcealed from view by a thick growth of oaks. Around this tent wereothers, less grand in appearance, which were occupied by the leaders ofhis army. Stretching for some distance below, was an open field, overwhich were scattered rude tents, of a great variety in form andappearance. Bed blankets, worn and various in their colors, werestretched across poles, at either end of which was placed a supportingstake, cut from the surrounding branches. All looked comfortless.

  Mingled with these were seen rows of small canvas tents, giving theencampment more of a warlike aspect. The arms were also varied in theirpatterns. Some of them bore the appearance of the regular United Statesarmy rifle, while others were the ordinary hunting rifle or shot gun.Occasionally were to be seen soldiers in uniform, but in most instancesthe rough blue home-spun was worn.

  As the Indian passed through the camp, his eyes wandered carelessly overthe scene. When Price reached his tent, an orderly arose to receive him,and the general said:

  "Send a corporal and ten men to my tent."

  Then turning to Johnson, he added:

  "You are known, and will require no escort beyond our lines. I shallquestion this Indian closely, and perhaps use him. Go!"

  "Yes, general," replied Johnson, and turning he departed.

  By this time a large number of officers had gathered near the tent ofPrice, and silently awaited the examination of the Indian, who theyevidently supposed to be a spy from the Union army. Unconscious of theirpresence, or at least appearing to be so, the Indian stood with foldedarms before the tent of the rebel general.

  In a few moments Price appeared, pausing directly before the Indian.Their eyes met, and for some time they regarded each other in silence.At length Price asked:

  "What is your name?"

  "Me Indian--brave!"

  "You are an Indian chief!"

  "Me no chief!"

  "Do you know me? I am chief here. Look around you--behold my warriors.They are all brave. They will conquer the enemy. If you will bring yourwarriors and fight with me, your hunting grounds will be safe, and yourfathers' graves sacred. If these invading robbers should conquer us, youwill lose your grounds; the graves of your sires will be polluted bytheir unholy touch, and you and your people made slaves! Will you fightwith us?"

  "Ugh!"

  "What do you mean by that?" asked Price.

  "Me ask chief."

  "What is your name?"

  "Red-wing."

  "To what tribe do you belong?"

  "Osage."

  "Red-wing, don't attempt to deceive me. I can read your very thoughts!"

  "Cowwewunk!"

  "Yes, I know you. You are a spy, and direct from the federal camp. Youpretended sleep as you were lying at the foot of yonder rock, that youmight hear all my conversation and report it. You have heard too much.Are there any here who have seen this fellow before?" asked Price,turning to his soldiers.

  "I have seen him, and know him," replied one of the men, steppingforward. "He is called Fall-leaf, and is chief of the Delaware tribe."

  The Indian sprang forward, and in an instant had broken through thecrowd which encircled him, and with the speed of a deer, dashed towardthe distant cliffs.

  "Fire upon him!" shrieked Price.

  A hundred rifles were raised, but the Indian was darting among the tentsin such a manner, that no opportunity for accurate aim could be had.

  "Curses on it, he will escape!" yelled Price. "Here Barclay, Rains, allof you, mount and follow. I must have that red devil, dead or alive. Ifhe escapes, he will bear important information to Fremont."

  Price sprang into his saddle and dashed forward in pursuit. He was soonfollowed by a score of others.

  "By heavens, they have seized him!" cried Price, as he approached theouter lines of the camp, where stood the guard tent.

  So it was. Just as Fall-leaf reached a narrow defile whic
h led along themountain's side and down to the river below, the detail ordered by Priceas a pretended escort, were starting for headquarters. They met theIndian face to face, and comprehending the state of affairs, thecorporal ordered,

  "Seize him!"

  A large knife flashed in the sunlight, which the Indian suddenly drewfrom concealment, and, as two of the guard sprang forward, it fell withcrushing weight upon the brain of each. A third and a fourth shared thesame fate.

  But, at this instant one of the guard levelled a terrible blow at thehead of the Indian, with the but of his musket.

  Fall-leaf, staggering back, fell to the earth. Half a dozen bayonetswere instantly pointed at his heart, but, as Price approached the spotat this moment, he cried:

  "Alive! alive! take him alive! I will question him first--then torturehim!"

  In an instant the Indian was bound and helpless.

  Price, as he rode up, followed by his aids, ordered Fall-leaf to arise.The Indian was only partially stunned by the blow, and obeying thesummons, he stood erect.

  "Now, dog!" said Price, "you shall confess."

  "Me no confess!" answered Fall-leaf.

  Price stamped his foot from very rage. Turning to the guard he said:

  "Throw that hell-hound upon the fire between those burning logs!"

  The Indian glanced at the burning mass, and then upon the objects bywhich he was surrounded. The guard were about to seize him, when,turning to Price, he said:

  "Me tell all!"

  "You will tell me all you know of the federal army, and of your ownplans?" asked Price.

  "Yes! Me hate you. Me fight you. You steal pale-face--Alibamo--"

  Price started, turning pale as death, as he shrieked:

  "Pitch him into the fire this instant!"

  The guard seized the Indian, and were about to put the order intoexecution, when a man bearing the appearance of a rough mountaineer,sprang forward.

  "Hold on a bit, general!" were his deliberately uttered words.

  Then, with the most perfect coolness, he drew his knife and severed thecords which bound the wrists of Fall-leaf.

  "And who are you?" asked Price in surprise.

  "Your best friend, of course, general," was the laconic reply.

  "I doubt it!"

  "Then you believe I lie, do you?"

  "Yes!"

  "Well, I will not lie then. I am your enemy. The reason I called myselfyour friend was, because I intended to give you good advice!"

  "Indeed! And what is this good advice?"

  "Why, general, that you are too far from the main body of your troopswith so small an escort. You had better return!"

  "What do you mean?" asked Price, alarmed.

  "I'll show you," was the reply. "Here, boys; come on, quick," heshouted, turning toward the dense thicket from which he had emerged.

  "We are surprised! Fall back!" shrieked Price, as he wheeled his horse.

  The guard had not waited for this command, but were already rapidlyretreating toward the main camp, followed by the aids of Price.

  The Indian and his rescuer had already mounted a cliff which overlookedthe entire ground, and turning he cried:

  "Look how the cowards run! Ha! ha! ha!"

  Price heard the words, and the laugh of derision. He commanded a halt,and exclaimed:

  "It was but a ruse! No troops excepting our own are near us. Followme--we can yet overtake them. There is but one path leading down themountain, and one along the ridge. Take the lower one, Rains, with fortymen. I will take the upper path, and thus we will cut them off."

  The order was at once executed, and the different detachments gallopedalong each mountain road.

  "There they are!" cried Price, as he reached the highest mountain point,about four miles from his camp. "There is a path to the right of thatledge, which leads to the valley. Quick--intercept them. They are makingfor that spot."

  The whole party dashed forward, but were just in time to see the rescuerof Fall-leaf spring from the rock and commence his rapid descent downthe rugged pathway. A volley was fired after him, but without effect.

  "But where is that red-skin?" asked Price. "He is not with that fellow,and I saw him standing upon that rock but a moment since."

  "He may be concealed in some of the crevices in the ledge," replied oneof the party.

  Search was instantly made. In a few moments one of the aids cried:

  "He is here! surround the rock--he cannot escape!"

  Near the summit of the cliff there was a large oak tree, which at onetime had been standing erect, but from lack of soil to secure its roots,had gradually settled down until its tops were some thirty or forty feet_below_ its roots. It hung over a frightful precipice of over onehundred feet. Directly below grew a large tree, whose tops reachedwithin fifteen or twenty feet of the declined oak's branches.

  The Indian finding himself thus surrounded, did not hesitate an instant.On one side was the precipice--on all other sides, the infuriatedsoldiery, thirsting for his blood.

  Quick as thought he sprang for the oak. Down its body and branches heran, like a squirrel skipping from twig to twig.

  "Fire!" shouted Price.

  "Our pieces have all been discharged at the other spy. We must load."

  "Well, quick--quick, or he will escape. By heavens, look!"

  The Indian had reached the extreme branches of the declining oak. Hepaused an instant and then sprang for the tree below.

  It was a fearful leap. But he succeeded in grasping one of the topmostbranches. His weight bent the frail limb, and before he could graspanother, it had broken, and his form went whirling through the air. Buthis form was checked by striking one of the main limbs, and with aneffort he secured a firmer hold. In an instant he had reached the bodyof the tree, and was safe.

  As he reached the base of the ledge, he turned and cried:

  "Price--me meet you again!"