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The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

Titel: The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Andre Norton
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us. We can pick off a few from up heah, but they ain’t gonna wait around to git sniped. So, how we gonna spread ourselves—?”
    Kirby’s was the unanswerable question. They had trailed the fugitives from the ambush back to this tangled wilderness with infinite caution, bypassing two sentries so well posted and concealed they had been forced to judge that the motley collection of guerrillas were as experienced at this trade as the scouts. There was no time to try to round up any other bands of homing Confederates or prowling scouts, even if they knew where they could be located. This was really a Yankee problem partly as well.
    Because of that murderous ambush, the local Union commander should be out for blood. But how could they get into enemy hands the information about this rats’ nest?
    “We can’t take ’em ourselves, and we’ve no time to round up any of the boys who might be passin’ through.”
    “So we jus’ leave heah an’ forgit it?” Webb demanded.
    “There’s another way—risky, but it might work. Take the Yankees off our trail and put them to doing something for us.…”
    “Sic ’em in heah, eh?” Kirby was watching Drew with dancing eyes. “How?”
    “Yeah, how? Ride up to their camp an’ say, ‘We know wheah at theah’s some bushwhackers, come’n see’?” Webb asked scornfully. “After this mornin’ they won’t even listen to a truce flag, I’m thinkin’.”
    Croff nodded. “That’s right.”
    “Supposin’ those sentries we passed back there were knocked out and two of us took their places and the other two then laid a trail leadin’ here?”
    “Showin’ themselves for bait, plainlike?” Kirby asked.
    “If we have to. The alarm will have gone out. I’m bettin’ there’re patrols thick on that road.”
    “Any blue bellies travelin’ theah now are gonna be bunched an’ ready to shoot at anything movin’.”
    “So,” Croff cut in over Webb’s instant objection, “you get some Yankees a-hittin’ it up after you, and you run for here. They’re not all dumb enough to ride right into this kind of country.”
    “We’ll have to work it so they’ll keep comin’. When you see them headin’ into the gorge after us, you move out of the sentry posts back across this ridge and start cuttin’ this camp down to size—pick off those horses and put ’em afoot. That’ll keep them here till the Yankees come.”
    “You know,” Kirby said, “it’s jus’ crazy enough to work. Lordy—if it was summer, I’d say we all had our brains sun-cured, but I’m willin’ to try it. Who does what?”
    “Croff and Webb’ll take out the sentries. We’ll go hunt us up some Yankees.” As Kirby said, it was a wild plan anchored here and there on chance alone. But the scouts were familiar with action as rash as this, which had worked. And they still had a few hours of daylight left in which to try it.
    They let a supply train go by on the road undisturbed. It was, Drew noted, well guarded and the guard paid special attention to the woods and fields flanking them. The word had certainly gone out to expect dire trouble along that section of countryside.
    “Have to be kinda hopin’ for the right-sized herd,” Kirby observed. “Need a nice patrol. Too bad we ain’t able to rope in, to order, jus’ what we need.”
    He went to a post farther south along the pike, and Drew settled himself in his own patch of cover, with Hannibal close at hand. The passing of time was a fret, but one they were used to. Drew thought over the plan. Improvisation always had to play a large part in such a project, but he believed they had a chance of success.
    A bird note, clear and carrying, broke the silence of the winter afternoon. Drew cradled the Spencer close to him. That was Kirby’s signal that around the bend he had sighted what they wanted.
    It was a patrol, led by a bearded officer with a captain’s bars on his shoulders—quite an impressive turnout, consisting of some thirty men and two officers. Watching them ride toward him, Drew’s mouth went dry, a shiver ascending his spine. To play fox to this pack of hounds was going to be more of a task than he had anticipated. But it had to be done.
    He fired, carefully missing the captain by a small margin, as he saw the spark his bullet struck from a roadside stone. Then he pumped one shot after another over the heads of the startled men. As he mounted Hannibal he caught a glimpse of Kirby cutting across the slope. The Texan

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