The darkness to the north was suddenly split apart by a solid sheet of flame. Dick by the light saw many men on horseback and others on foot, bridle2 rein3 over arm. It was well for the seven hundred boys that they had pressed themselves against the solid earth. A sheet of bullets swept toward them. Most passed over their heads, but many struck upon bones and flesh, and cries of pain rose from the lines of men lying along the railroad track.
The seven hundred pulled trigger and fired at the flash. They fired so well that Dick could hear Southern horses neighing with pain, and struggling in the darkness. He felt sure that many men, too, had been hit. At least no charge came. The seven hundred shouted with exultation4 and, leaping to their feet, prepared to fire a second volley. But the swift command of their officers quickly put them down again.
“Don't forget the other Confederate column to the south of us,” whispered Whitley. “They did not fire at first for fear their bullets would pass over our heads and strike their own comrades. For the same reason they must have dropped back a little in order to avoid the fire of their friends. Their volley will come from an angle about midway between our left and rear.”
Just as he spoke6 the last words the rifles flashed at the surmised7 angle and again the bullets beat among the young troops or swept over their heads. A soldier was killed only a few feet from Dick. The boy picked up his rifle and ammunition8 and began to fire whenever he saw the flash of an opposing weapon. But the fire of both Confederate columns ceased in a minute or two, and not a shot nor the sound of a single order came out of the darkness. But Dick with his ear to the soft earth, could hear the crush of hoofs9 in the mud, and with a peculiar10 ability to discern whence sound came he knew that the force on the left and rear was crossing the railroad track in order to join their comrades on the north. He whispered his knowledge to Whitley, who whispered back:
“It's the natural thing for them to do. They could not afford to fight on in the darkness with two separate forces. The two columns would soon be firing into each other.”
Colonel Newcomb now gave an order for the men to rise and follow the railroad track, but also to fire at the flash of the rifles whenever a volley was poured upon them. He must not only beat off the Southern attack, but also continue the journey to those points in the west where they were needed so sorely. Some of his men had been killed, and he was compelled to leave their bodies where they had fallen. Others were wounded, but without exception they were helped along by their comrades.
Warner also had secured a rifle, with which he fired occasionally, but he and Dick, despite the darkness, kept near to Colonel Newcomb in order that they might deliver any orders that he should choose to give. Sergeant12 Whitley was close to them. Dick presently heard the rush of water.
“What is that?” he exclaimed.
“It's the little river that runs down the valley,” replied Warner. “There's a slope here and it comes like a torrent13. A bridge or rather trestle is only a little further, and we've got to walk the ties, if we reach the other side. They'll make their heaviest rush there, I suppose, as beyond a doubt they are thoroughly14 acquainted with the ground.”
The Northern troops left the track which here ran along an embankment several feet high, and took shelter on its southern side. They now had an advantage for a while, as they fired from a breastwork upon their foes15, who were in the open. But the darkness, lit only by the flashes of the rifles, kept the fire of both sides from being very destructive, the bullets being sent mainly at random17.
Dick dimly saw the trestle work ahead of them, and the roaring of the little river increased. He did not know how deep the water was, but he was sure that it could not be above his waist as it was a small stream. An idea occurred to him and he promptly18 communicated it to Colonel Newcomb.
“Suppose, sir,” he said, “that we ford11 the river just below the trestle. It will deceive them and we'll be half way across before they suspect the change.”
“A good plan, Mr. Mason,” said Colonel Newcomb. “We'll try it.”
Word was quickly passed along the line that they should turn to the left as they approached the trestle, march swiftly down the slope, and dash into the stream. As fast as they reached the other side of the ford the men should form upon the bank there, and with their rifles cover the passage of their comrades.
The skeleton work of the trestle now rose more clearly into view. The rain had almost ceased and faint rays of moonlight showed through the rifts19 where the clouds had broken apart. The boys distinctly heard the gurgling rush of waters, and they also saw the clear, bluish surface of the mountain stream. The same quickening of light disclosed the Southern force on their right flank and rear, only four or five hundred yards away. Dick's hasty glance backward lingered for a moment on a powerful man on a white horse just in advance of the Southern column. He saw this man raise his hand and then command the men to fire. He and twenty others under the impulse of excitement shouted to the regiment20 to drop down, and the Northern lads did so.
Most of the volley passed over their heads. Rising they sent back a return discharge, and then the head of the columns rushed into the stream. Dick felt swift water whirling about him and tugging21 at his body, but it rose no higher than his waist, although foam22 and spray were dashed into his face. He heard all around him the splashing of his comrades, and their murmurs23 of satisfaction. They realized now that they were not only able to retreat before a much superior force, but this same stream, when crossed, would form a barrier behind which they could fight two to one.
The Confederate leader, whoever he might be, and Dick had no doubt that he was the redoubtable24 Turner Ashby, also appreciated the full facts and he drove his whole force straight at the regiment. It was well for the young troops that part of them were already across, and, under the skillful leadership of Colonel Newcomb, Major Hertford, and three or four old, regular army sergeants25, of whom the best was Whitley, were already forming in line of battle.
“Kneel,” shouted the colonel, “and fire over the heads of your comrades at the enemy!”
The light was still growing brighter. The rain came only in slight flurries. The clouds were trooping off toward the northeast, and the moon was out. Dick clearly saw the black mass of the Southern horsemen wheeling down upon them. At least three hundred of the regiment were now upon the bank, and, with fairly steady aim, they poured a heavy volley into the massed ranks of their foe16. Dick saw horses fall while others dashed away riderless. But the Southern line wavered only for a moment and then came on again with many shouts. There were also dismounted men on either flank who knelt and maintained a heavy fire upon the defenders26.
The lads in blue were suffering many wounds, but a line of trees and underbrush on the western shore helped them. Lying there partly protected they loaded and pulled trigger as fast as they could, while the rest of their comrades emerged dripping from the stream to join them. The Confederates, brave as they were, had no choice but to give ground against such strong defense27, and the miner colonel, despite his reserve and his middle years, gave vent28 to his exultation.
“We can hold this line forever!” he exclaimed to his aides. “It's one thing to charge us in the open, but it's quite another to get at us across a deep and rushing stream. Major Hertford, take part of the men to the other side of the railroad track and drive back any attempt at a crossing there. Lieutenant29 Mason, you and Lieutenant Warner go ahead and see what has become of the train. You can get back here in plenty time for more fighting.”
Dick and Warner hurried forward, following the line of the railroad. Their blood was up and they did not like to leave the defense of the river, but orders must be obeyed. As they ran down the railroad track a man came forward swinging a lantern, and they saw the tall gaunt figure of Canby, the chief engineer. Behind him the train stretched away in the darkness.
“I guess that our men have forded the river and are holding the bank,” said Canby. “Do they need the train crew back there to help?”
He spoke with husky eagerness. Dick knew that he was longing30 to be in the middle of the fight, but that his duty kept him with the train.
“No,” he replied. “The river bank, and the road along its shore give us a great position for defense, and I know we can hold it. Colonel Newcomb did not say so, but perhaps you'd better bring the train back nearer us. It's not our object to stay in this valley and fight, but to go into the west. Is all clear ahead?”
“No enemy is there. Some of the brakemen have gone on a mile or two and they say the track hasn't been touched. You tell Colonel Newcomb that I'm bringing the train right down to the battle line.”
Dick and Warner returned quickly to Colonel Newcomb, who appreciated Canby's courage and presence of mind. As the train approached the four cannon31 were unloaded from the trucks, and swept the further shore with shell and shrapnel. After a scattered32 fire the Southern force withdrew some distance, where it halted, apparently33 undecided. The clouds rolled up again, the feeble moon disappeared, and the river sank into the dark.
“May I make a suggestion, Colonel Newcomb?” said Major Hertford.
“Certainly.”
“The enemy will probably seek an undefended ford much higher up, cross under cover of the new darkness and attack us in heavy force on the flank. Suppose we get aboard the train at once, cannon and all, and leave them far behind.”
“Excellent. If the darkness covers their movements it also covers ours. Load the train as fast as possible and see that no wounded are left behind.”
He gave rapid orders to all his officers and aides, and in fifteen minutes the troops were aboard the train again, the cannon were lifted upon the trucks, Canby and his assistants had all steam up, and the train with its usual rattle34 and roar resumed its flight into the west.
Dick and Warner were in the first coach near Colonel Newcomb, ready for any commands that he might give. Both had come through the defense of the ford without injury, although a bullet had gone through Dick's coat without touching35 the skin. Sergeant Whitley, too, was unharmed, but the regiment had suffered. More than twenty dead were left in the valley for the enemy to bury.
Despite all the commands and efforts of the officers there was much excited talk in the train. Boys were binding37 up wounds of other boys and were condoling38 with them. But on the whole they were exultant39. Youth did not realize the loss of those who had been with them so little. Scattered exclamations40 came to Dick:
“We beat 'em off that time, an' we can do it again.”
“Lucky though we had that little river before us. Guess they'd have rode us right down with their horses if it hadn't been for the stream an' its banks.”
“Ouch, don't draw that bandage so tight on my arm. It ain't nothin' but a flesh wound.”
“I hate a battle in the dark. Give me the good sunshine, where you can see what's goin' on. My God, that you Bill! I'm tremendous glad to see you! I thought you was lyin' still, back there in the grass!”
Dick said nothing. He was in a seat next to the window, and his face was pressed against the rain-marked pane41. The rifle that he had picked up and used so well was still clutched, grimed with smoke, in his hands. The train had not yet got up speed. He caught glimpses of the river behind which they had fought, and which had served them so well as a barrier. In fact, he knew that it had saved them. But they had beaten off the enemy! The pulses in his temples still throbbed42 from exertion43 and excitement, but his heart beat exultantly44. The bitterness of Bull Run was deep and it had lasted long, but here they were the victors.
The speed of the train increased and Dick knew that they were safe from further attack. They were still running among mountains, clad heavily in forest, but a meeting with a second Southern force was beyond probability. The first had made a quick raid on information supplied by spies in Washington, but it had failed and the way was now clear.
Ample food was served somewhat late to the whole regiment, the last wounds were bound up, and Dick, having put aside the rifle, fell asleep at last. His head lay against the window and he slept heavily all through the night. Warner in the next seat slept in the same way. But the wise old sergeant just across the aisle45 remained awake much longer. He was summing up and he concluded that the seven hundred lads had done well. They were raw, but they were being whipped into shape.
He smiled a little grimly as the unspoken words, “whipped into shape,” rose to his lips. The veteran of many an Indian battle foresaw something vastly greater than anything that had occurred on the plains. “Whipped into shape!” Why, in the mighty46 war that was gathering47 along a front of two thousand miles no soldier could escape being whipped into shape, or being whipped out of it.
But the sergeant's own eyes closed after a while, and he, too, slept the sleep of utter mental and physical exhaustion48. The train rumbled49 on, the faithful Canby in the first engine aware of his great responsibility and equal to it. Not a wink50 of sleep for him that night. The darkness had lightened somewhat more. The black of the skies had turned to a dusky blue, and the bolder stars were out. He could always see the shining rails three or four hundred yards ahead, and he sent his train steadily51 forward at full speed, winding52 among the gorges53 and rattling55 over the trestles. The silent mountains gave back every sound in dying echoes, but Canby paid no heed56 to them. His eyes were always on the track ahead, and he, too, was exultant. He had brought the regiment through, and while it was on the train his responsibility was not inferior to that of Colonel Newcomb.
When Dick awoke, bright light was pouring in at the car windows, but the car was cold and his body was stiff and sore. His military overcoat had been thrown over him in the night and Warner had been covered in the same way. They did not know that Sergeant Whitley had done that thoughtful act.
Dick stretched himself and drew deep breaths. Warm youth soon sent the blood flowing in a full tide through his veins57, and the stiffness and soreness departed. He saw through the window that they were still running among the mountains, but they did not seem to be so high here as they were at the river by which they had fought in the night. He knew from his geography and his calculation of time that they must be far into that part of Virginia which is now West Virginia.
There was no rain now, at least where the train was running, but the sun had risen on a cold world. Far up on the higher peaks he saw a fine white mist which he believed to be falling snow. Obviously it was winter here and putting on the big military coat he drew it tightly about him. Others in the coach were waking up and some of them, grown feverish58 with their wounds, were moving restlessly on their seats, where they lay protected by the blankets of their fellows.
Dick now and then saw a cabin nestling in the lee of a hill, with the blue smoke rising from its chimney into the clear, wintry air, and small and poor as they were they gave him a singular sense of peace and comfort. His mind felt for a few moments a strong reaction from war and its terrors, but the impulse and the strong purpose that bore him on soon came back.
The train rushed through a pass and entered a sheltered valley a mile or two wide and eight or ten miles long. A large creek59 ran through it, and the train stopped at a village on its banks. The whole population of the village and all the farmers of the valley were there to meet them. It was a union valley and by some system of mountain telegraphy, although there were no telegraph wires, news of the battle at the ford had preceded the train.
“Come, lads,” said Colonel Newcomb to his staff. “Out with you! We're among friends here!”
Dick and Warner were glad enough to leave the train. The air, cold as it was, was like the breath of heaven on their faces, and the cheers of the people were like the trump60 of fame in their ears. Pretty girls with their faces in red hoods61 or red comforters were there with food and smoking coffee. Medicines for the wounded, as much as the village could supply, had been brought to the train, and places were already made for those hurt too badly to go on with the expedition.
The whole cheerful scene, with its life and movement, the sight of new faces and the sound of many voices, had a wonderful effect upon young Dick Mason. He had a marvellously sensitive temperament62, a direct inheritance from his famous border ancestor, Paul Cotter. Things were always vivid to him. Either they glowed with color, or they were hueless64 and dead. This morning the long strain of the night and its battle was relaxed completely. The grass in the valley was brown with frost, and the trees were shorn of their leaves by the winter winds, but to Dick it was the finest village that he had ever seen, and these were the friendliest people in the world.
He drank a cup of hot coffee handed to him by the stalwart wife of a farmer, and then, when she insisted, drank another.
“You're young to be fightin',” she said sympathetically.
“We all are,” said Dick with a glance at the regiment, “but however we may fight you'll never find anybody attacking a breakfast with more valor65 and spirit than we do.”
She looked at the long line of lads, drinking coffee and eating ham, bacon, eggs, and hot biscuits, and smiled.
“I reckon you tell the truth, young feller,” she said, “but it's good to see 'em go at it.”
She passed on to help others, and Dick, summoned by Colonel Newcomb, went into a little railroad and telegraph station. The telegraph wires had been cut behind them, but ten miles across the mountains the spur of another railroad touched a valley. The second railroad looped toward the north, and it was absolutely sure that it was beyond the reach of Southern raiders. Colonel Newcomb wished to send a message to the Secretary of War and the President, telling of the night's events and his triumphant66 passage through the ordeal67. These circumstances might make them wish to change his orders, and at any rate the commander of the regiment wished to be sure of what he was doing.
“You're a Kentuckian and a good horseman,” said Colonel Newcomb to Dick. “The villagers have sent me a trusty man, one Bill Petty, as a guide. Take Sergeant Whitley and you three go to the station. I've already written my dispatches, and I put them in your care. Have them sent at once, and if necessary wait four hours for an answer. If it comes, ride back as fast as you can. The horses are ready and I rely upon you.”
“Thank you, sir, I'll do my best,” said Dick, who deeply appreciated the colonel's confidence. He wasted no time in words, but went at once to Sergeant Whitley, who was ready in five minutes. Warner, who heard of the mission, was disappointed because he was not going too. But he was philosophical68.
“I've made a close calculation,” he said, “and I have demonstrated to my own satisfaction that our opportunities are sixty per cent energy and ability, twenty per cent manners, and twenty per cent chance. In this case chance, which made the Colonel better acquainted with you than with me, was in your favor. We won't discuss the other eighty per cent, because this twenty is enough. Besides it looks pretty cold on the mountains, and its fine here in the village. But luck with you, Dick.”
He gave his comrade's hand a strong grasp and walked away toward the little square of the village, where the troops were encamped for the present. Dick sprang upon a horse which Bill Petty was holding for him. Whitley was already up, and the three rode swiftly toward a blue line which marked a cleft69 between two ridges70. Dick first observed their guide. Bill Petty was a short but very stout71 man, clad in a suit of home-made blue jeans, the trousers of which were thrust into high boots with red tops. A heavy shawl of dark red was wrapped around his shoulders, and beneath his broad-brimmed hat a red woolen72 comforter covered his ears, cheeks, and chin. His thick hair and a thick beard clothing his entire face were a flaming red. The whole effect of the man was somewhat startling, but when he saw Dick looking at him in curiosity his mouth opened wide in a grin of extreme good nature.
“I guess you think I'm right red,” he said. “Well, I am, an' as you see I always dress to suit my complexion73. Guess I'll warm up the road some on a winter day like this.”
“Would you mind my callin' you Red Blaze?” asked Sergeant Whitley gravely.
“Not-a-tall! Not-a-tall! I'd like it. I guess it's sorter pictorial74 an' 'maginative like them knights75 of old who had fancy names 'cordin' to their qualities. People 'round here are pretty plain, an' they've never called me nothin' but Bill. Red Blaze she is.”
“An' Blaze for short. Well, then, Blaze, what kind of a road is that we're goin' to ride on?”
“Depends on the kind of weather in which you ask the question. As it's the fust edge of winter here in the mountains, though it ain't quite come in the lowlands, an' as it's rained a lot in the last week, I reckon you'll find it bad. Mebbe our hosses will go down in the road to thar knees, but I guess they won't sink up to thar bodies. They may stumble an' throw us, but as we'll hit in soft mud it ain't likely to hurt us. It may rain hard, 'cause I see clouds heapin' up thar in the west. An' if it rains the cold may then freeze a skim of ice over the road, on which we could slip an' break our necks, hosses an' all. Then thar are some cliffs close to the road. If we was to slip on that thar skim of ice which we've reckoned might come, then mebbe we'd go over one of them cliffs and drop down a hundred feet or so right swift. If it was soft mud down below we might not get hurt mortal. But it ain't soft mud. We'd hit right in the middle of sharp, hard rocks. An' if a gang of rebel sharpshooters has wandered up here they may see us an' chase us 'way off into the mountains, where we'd break our necks fallin' off the ridges or freeze to death or starve to death.”
Whitley stared at him.
“Blaze,” he exclaimed, “what kind of a man are you anyway?”
“Me? I'm the happiest man in the valley. When people are low down they come an' talk to me to get cheered up. I always lay the worst before you first an' then shove it out of the way. None of them things that I was conjurin' up is goin' to happen. I was just tellin' you of the things you was goin' to escape, and now you'll feel good, knowin' what dangers you have passed before they happened.”
Dick laughed. He liked this intensely red man with his round face and twinkling eyes. He saw, too, that the mountaineer was a fine horseman, and as he carried a long slender-barreled rifle over his shoulder, while a double-barreled pistol was thrust in his belt, it was likely that he would prove a formidable enemy to any who sought to stop him.
“Perhaps your way is wise,” said the boy. “You begin with the bad and end with the good. What is the name of this place to which we are going?”
“Hubbard. There was a pioneer who fit the Injuns in here in early times. I never heard that he got much, 'cept a town named after him. But Hubbard is a right peart little place, with a bank, two stores, three churches, an' nigh on to two hundred people. Are you wrapped up well, Mr. Mason, 'cause it's goin' to be cold on the mountains?”
Dick wore heavy boots, and a long, heavy military coat which fell below his knees and which also had a high collar protecting his ears. He was provided also with heavy buckskin gloves. The sergeant was clad similarly.
“I think I'm clothed against any amount of cold,” he replied.
“Well, you need to be,” said Petty, “'cause the pass through which we're goin' is at least fifteen hundred feet above Townsville—that's our village—an' I reckon it's just 'bout5 as high over Hubbard. Them fifteen hundred feet make a pow'ful difference in climate, as you'll soon find out. It's not only colder thar, but the winds are always blowin' hard through the pass. Jest look back at Townsville. Ain't she fine an' neat down thar in the valley, beside that clear creek which higher up in the mountains is full of the juiciest an' sweetest trout76 that man ever stuck a tooth into.”
Dick saw that Petty was talkative, but he did not mind. In fact, both he and Whitley liked the man's joyous77 and unbroken run of chatter78. He turned in his saddle and looked back, following the stout man's pointing finger. Townsville, though but a little mountain town built mainly of logs, was indeed a jewel, softened79 and with a silver sheen thrown over it by the mountain air which was misty80 that morning. He dimly saw the long black line of the train standing81 on the track, and here and there warm rings of smoke rose from the chimneys and floated up into the heavens, where they were lost.
He thought he could detect little figures moving beside the train and he knew that they must be those of his comrades. He felt for a moment a sense of loneliness. He had not known these lads long, but the battle had bound them firmly together. They had been comrades in danger and that made them comrades as long as they lived.
“Greatest town in the world,” said Petty, waving toward it a huge hand, encased in a thick yarn82 glove. “I've traveled from it as much as fifty miles in every direction, north, south, east, an' west, an' I ain't never seed its match. I reckon I'm somethin' of a traveler, but every time I come back to Townsville, I think all the more of it, seein' how much better it is than anything else.”
“You're a lucky man, Mr. Petty,” he said, “to live in the finest place in the world.”
“Yes, if I don't get drug off to the war. I'm not hankerin' for fightin' an' I don't know much what the war's about though I'm for the union, fust to last, an' that's the way most of the people 'bout here feel. Turn your heads ag'in, friends, an' take another look at Townsville.”
Dick and Whitley glanced back and saw only the blank gray wall of the mountain. Petty laughed. He was the finest laugher that Dick had ever heard. The laugh did not merely come from the mouth, it was also exuded84, pouring out through every pore. It was rolling, unctuous85, and so strong that Petty not only shook with it, but his horse seemed to shake also. It was mellow86, too, with an organ note that comes of a mighty lung and throat, and of pure air breathed all the year around.
“Thought I'd git the joke on you,” he said, when he stopped laughing. “The road's been slantin' into the mountains, without you knowin' it, and Townsville is cut off by the cliffs. You'll find it gettin' wilder now 'till we start down the slope on the other side. Lucky our hosses are strong, 'cause the mud is deeper than I thought it would be.”
It was not really a road that they were following, merely a path, and the going was painful. Under Petty's instructions they stopped their mounts now and then for a rest, and a mile further on they began to feel a rising wind.
“It's the wind that I told you of,” said Petty. “It's sucked through six or seven miles of pass, an' it will blow straight in our faces all the way. As we'll be goin' up for a long distance you'll find it growin' colder, too. But you've got to remember that after you pass them cold winds an' go down the slope you'll strike another warm little valley, the one in which Hubbard is layin' so neat an' so snug87.”
Dick had already noticed the increasing coldness and so had the sergeant. Whitley, from his long experience on the plains, had the keenest kind of an eye for climatic changes. He noticed with some apprehension88 that the higher peaks were clothed in thick, cold fog, but he said nothing to the brave boy whom he had grown to love like a son. But both he and Dick drew their heavy coats closer and were thankful for the buckskin gloves, without which their hands would have stiffened89 on the reins91.
Now they rode in silence with their heads bent92 well forward, because the wind was becoming fiercer and fiercer. Over the peaks the fogs were growing thicker and darker and after a while the sharp edge of the wind was wet with rain. It stung their faces, and they drew their hat brims lower and their coat collars higher to protect themselves from such a cutting blast.
“Told you we might have trouble,” called Petty, cheerfully, “but if you ride right on through trouble you'll leave trouble behind. Nor this ain't nothin' either to what we kin36 expect before we git to the top of the pass. Cur'us what a pow'ful lot human bein's kin stand when they make up their minds to it.”
“Are the horses well shod?” asked Whitley.
“Best shod in the world, 'cause I done it myself. That's my trade, blacksmith, an' I'm a good one if I do say it. I heard before we started that you had been a soldier in the west. I s'pose that you had to look mighty close to your hosses then. A man couldn't afford to be ridin' a hoss made lame1 by bad shoein' when ten thousand yellin' Sioux or Blackfeet was after him.”
“No, you couldn't,” replied the sergeant. “Out there you had to watch every detail. That's one of the things that fightin' Indians taught. You had to be watchin' all the time an' I reckon the trainin' will be of value in this war. Are we mighty near to the top of the pass, Mr. Petty?”
“Got two or three miles yet. The slope is steeper on the other side. We rise a lot more before we hit the top.”
The wind grew stronger with every rod they ascended93, and the horses began to pant with their severe exertions94. At Petty's suggestion the three riders dismounted and walked for a while, leading their horses. The rain turned to a fine hail and stung their faces. Had it not been for his two good comrades Dick would have found his situation inexpressibly lonely and dreary95. The heavy fog now enveloped96 all the peaks and ridges and filled every valley and chasm97. He could see only fifteen or twenty yards ahead along the muddy path, and the fine hail which gave every promise of becoming a storm of sleet98 stung continually. The wind confined in the narrow gorge54 also uttered a hideous99 shrieking100 and moaning.
“Tests your nerve!” shouted Petty to Dick. “There are hard things besides battles to stand, an' this is goin' to be one of the hard ones, but if you go through it all right you kin go through any number of the same kind all right, too. Likely the sleet will be so thick that it will make a sheet of slippery ice for us comin' back. Now, hosses that ain't got calks on thar shoes are pretty shore to slip an' fall, breakin' a leg or two, an' mebbe breakin' the necks of thar riders.”
Dick looked at him with some amazement101. Despite his announcement of dire63 disaster the man's eyes twinkled merrily and the round, red outline of his bushy head in the scarlet102 comforter made a cheerful blaze.
“It's jest as I told you,” said Petty, meeting the boy's look. “Without calks on thar shoes our hosses are pretty shore to slip on the ice and break theirselves up, or fall down a cliff an' break themselves up more.”
“Then why in thunder, Blaze,” exclaimed Whitley, “did we start without calks on the shoes of our horses?”
Red Blaze broke into a deep mellow laugh, starting from the bottom of his diaphragm, swelling103 as it passed through his chest, swelling again as it passed through throat and mouth, and bursting upon the open air in a mighty diapason that rose cheerfully above the shrieking and moaning of the wind.
“We didn't start without em,” he replied. “The twelve feet of these three hosses have on 'em the finest calked shoes in all these mountains. I put 'em on myself, beginnin' the job this mornin' before you was awake, your colonel, on the advice of the people of Townsville who know me as one of its leadin' an' trusted citizens, havin' selected me as the guide of this trip. I was jest tellin' you what would happen to you if I didn't justify104 the confidence of the people of Townsville.”
“I allow, Red Blaze,” said the sergeant with confidence, “that you ain't no fool, an' that you're lookin' out for our best interests. Lead on.”
Red Blaze's mellow and pleased laugh rose once more above the whistling of the wind.
“You kin ride ag'in now, boys,” he said. “The hosses are pretty well rested.”
They resumed the saddle gladly and now mounted toward the crest105 of the pass. The sleet turned to snow, which was a relief to their faces, and Dick, with the constant beating of wind and snow, began to feel a certain physical exhilaration. He realized the truth of Red Blaze's assertion that if you stiffen90 your back and push your way through troubles you leave troubles behind.
They rode now in silence for quite a while, and then Red Blaze suddenly announced:
“We're at the top, boys.”
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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3
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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4
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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6
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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7
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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8
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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10
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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11
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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12
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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13
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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15
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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17
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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19
rifts
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| n.裂缝( rift的名词复数 )；裂隙；分裂；不和 | |
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20
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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21
tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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22
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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23
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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24
redoubtable
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| adj.可敬的；可怕的 | |
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25
sergeants
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| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
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26
defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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28
vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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30
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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31
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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32
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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33
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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34
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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35
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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36
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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37
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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38
condoling
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| v.表示同情，吊唁( condole的现在分词 ) | |
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39
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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40
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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41
pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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42
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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43
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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44
exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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45
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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46
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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47
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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48
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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49
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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50
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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51
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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52
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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53
gorges
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| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
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54
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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55
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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56
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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57
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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58
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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59
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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60
trump
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| n.王牌，法宝；v.打出王牌，吹喇叭 | |
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61
hoods
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| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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62
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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63
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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64
hueless
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65
valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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66
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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67
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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68
philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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69
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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70
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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72
woolen
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| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
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73
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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74
pictorial
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| adj.绘画的；图片的；n．画报 | |
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75
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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76
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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77
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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78
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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79
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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80
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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81
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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82
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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83
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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84
exuded
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| v.缓慢流出，渗出，分泌出( exude的过去式和过去分词 )；流露出对（某物）的神态或感情 | |
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85
unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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86
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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87
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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88
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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89
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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90
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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91
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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92
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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93
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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95
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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96
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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98
sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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99
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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100
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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101
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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102
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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103
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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104
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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105
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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