Camp Venture: A Story of the Virginia Mountains

"Call the corporal of the guard," commanded the lieutenant, "and bid him report to me for instructions."

In half a minute the corporal came. The only instructions he received were these:

"Bid the sergeant report to me here." Thus in military life is everything done "decently and in order." The sentinel could not have summoned the sergeant without quitting his post; but he could summon the corporal by a simple guard call, and the corporal could go to the sergeant and summon him to the lieutenant's presence. When he appeared and deferentially saluted, the lieutenant said to him:

"We shall remain where we are till further orders. Dispose the men in the best way you can to make them comfortable and let them build camp-fires. Throw out six pickets up the mountain on the south, one below here on the north, one on the east and one on the west. Send the men on the south as far up the mountain as where the enemy was encountered this morning. Then charge the sentries who are guarding our prisoners to be on the alert and serve as camp guards as well. They are to listen for shots from any of the pickets and report to me as soon as one is heard from any direction. I shall sleep under the bluff, near the spring. The watchword is 'alert;' the countersign 'attention.'"

"But, lieutenant," said Jack, when the sergeant had taken his leave, "why will you not accept our hospitality? Why will you not sleep here in our house? We have five wounded men here, it is true, but there is one spare bunk and you are more than welcome to it."

"I am very grateful, I am sure," said the lieutenant, "but it is the rule of my life that whenever I am in command and my men have to sleep in the open, I also sleep in the open. I have lived up to that rule even in a blizzard on the plains. Besides, this – well, this revenue officer – has done just enough to provoke the moonshiners and their friends, and not half enough to intimidate them. That is why I ordered our pickets thrown so far out to-night. There is a half sunken road running across the ridge up there. They had it for a breastwork this morning. I mean to have it next time. But what I was going to say is this: A man sleeping in a house sleeps soundly; a man sleeping in the open sleeps very lightly. As it is my purpose to visit all my pickets at least three times to-night, I want to sleep very lightly; so with all thanks for your courteous hospitality, I will sleep out under the bluff to-night, and now I must say good night."

CHAPTER XXX

A Point of Honor

There was no disturbance that night, and the next morning Tom took his two soldiers and went hunting again. Tom had a positive genius for getting game. This time he brought back no deer, no wild boar, and no half grown bear; but he and his soldiers were loaded down with turkeys, squirrels and hares. There was meat enough in the camp now to last for a day or two, but the bread supply was nearly exhausted, inasmuch as the boys had divided their meal with the soldiers.

In this situation the lieutenant went to Tom and engaged him in conversation.

"Now, I know," he said, "that there are many stills around here. Every one of them has a supply of ground up grain, and I want some of it. You have hunted all over the mountains, and of course you know where some at least of the stills are."

"Yes, I know where several of them are," answered Tom.

"Well, I propose to raid some of them, to get breadstuffs. Will you go with my men and point out the stills?"

"No!" answered Tom, with emphasis on the monosyllable.

"But why not?" asked the lieutenant. "Surely you are not afraid."

"Not the least bit," answered Tom. "But I've entered into an honorable agreement with the moonshiners and I mean to keep it. I've assured them that we boys were not here to spy them out and betray them, and I've pledged them my honor that if they let us alone we would let them alone. You see this illicit distilling is none of my business, or yours either, Lieutenant. It's the business of the revenue officers. Now under our honorable agreement these people, who began by ordering us off the mountain and followed that up by shooting at us for not going, have let us alone for many weeks past, and I am going to keep my promise to let them alone in return."

"But they haven't let you alone," answered the lieutenant. "Their assault upon the camp – "

"Pardon me," answered Tom. "That was not an assault upon us, but upon the revenue officers and their military support. I do not think it absolves me from my promise. Besides that, I doubt if you have any right to raid stills except under orders of the revenue officers, and they are too badly frightened to undertake anything of the kind. You have no warrants. Your sole duty and right and privilege is to go with these revenue officers and protect them in the execution of their duty."

"That is certainly true," answered the lieutenant after a moment's pause for consideration. "I hadn't thought of it in that way."

"And still further," said Tom, "it is very certain that there isn't an illicit still now running on this mountain. The moment you fellows appeared every still was ripped off its furnace and buried somewhere, every mash tub was emptied and sent bowling down the mountain, and every scrap of evidence that there had ever been an illicit still there was completely destroyed. So, even if you find the buildings in which the business was formerly carried on, what right will you have to seize upon the meal or anything else you may find there? You might as well raid a mill and seize all that you find in it."

"But you know, Tom, and I know, that these people are lawlessly engaged in defrauding the revenue."

"Of course," said Tom. "But that doesn't justify you in violating the law and robbing them of their meal. If you could catch them in defrauding the revenue you might perhaps have a right to confiscate their materials, as the law prescribes, though as you're not a revenue officer I doubt that. Just now you can't possibly catch them doing anything of the kind. Understand me, Lieutenant, I am as much devoted as you are to law and order. I know these men to be thieves and upon occasion murderers. But neither of us has a right to convict them without proof of their guilt."

Tom had never made so long a speech in all his life or one inspired by so much of earnestness.

The lieutenant sat silent for a while, thinking the matter over. Presently he arose, took Tom's hand and said:

"I believe you are right, Tom. At any rate you are right on the point of honor that controls your own course in this matter. We are taught at West Point that whenever there is the least or the greatest doubt as to a point of honor, it is an honorable man's duty to give honor the benefit of the doubt. We'll make no raids except under the warrants of the revenue officers. We'll live on meat till the caravan comes up the mountain."

CHAPTER XXXI

Corporal Jenkins's March

But the caravan did not come. A thaw had set in, reinforced by a rain, and all the mountain streams were torrents again – utterly impassable.

When Tom explained the case the lieutenant said:

"Nevertheless Corporal Jenkins will get here with the supplies. He may be much longer in coming than we hoped for, but he will come. He is a man of resource and he never gives up."

In the meantime Corporal Jenkins was in a very bad way half way up the mountain side. He had passed one torrent while yet it was only half full, and now it was so full that he could not even retreat with his mule caravan. In front was another torrent that it would have been sheer insanity to attempt to cross – a stream fifty feet wide, rushing down through a gorge with a violence that carried great stones with it, some of them weighing many tons, while the water was almost completely filled with a tangled mass of whirling trees that had been torn up by the roots by the on rush of the waters.

"We'll have to go back, Corporal," suggested one of the men.

"We can't go back," he replied. "That last stream we crossed is as full as this one now. Besides we must get these supplies to camp."

"But how?"

"I don't know how! Shut up and let me think the thing out."

After his thinking the corporal ordered the caravan to leave the trail and work its way up the mountain in the space between the two streams. It was a difficult and sometimes a perilous ascent. There were cliffs in the way around and over which a passage was partly found and partly forced by great labor. At some places the pathway was so steep that no mule could carry his load up it. Here the corporal divided the loads and led the mules up with only one-fourth or one-fifth of the burden upon each. Then unloading that he took the animals back again and placed another portion of their load upon their backs, repeating the journey as often as might be necessary. As he had twenty mules in his pack train it sometimes took half a day to get over thirty or forty yards of distance in this tedious and toilsome fashion. But at any rate there was progress made.

Often, too, there were great detours to be made in order to get around obstacles that could not be overcome. Thus day after day was consumed in the tedious climb up the mountain. The corporal knew how anxiously his commanding officer was awaiting his coming, but he could not hurry it more than he was already doing.

"What's your plan, Corporal?" asked one of the men when a bivouac was made one evening.

"Simple enough," answered the corporal. "When you've served in the mountains as long as I have, you'll know that every mountain torrent has a beginning somewhere up towards the top of the mountain. I'm simply following this one up to find its head waters and go around them."

The raging stream had grown much smaller now, as the caravan neared its place of beginning, and the next morning the corporal found a place at which he thought it safe to attempt a crossing. It was perilous work, but after an hour or two of struggle all the mules and all the men were got safely to the farther side.

The corporal knew that he was much higher up the mountain than the site of Camp Venture. But it was no part of his plan to descend until he had passed the head waters of all other streams and reached a point directly south of the camp and above it. So he proceeded westward around the mountain.

Without knowing what the trusty corporal's plans or proceedings would be, the lieutenant felt that he was likely to have difficulty in locating the camp. So he ordered a brush fire kept burning night and day, so that the smoke of it by day and the light of it by night might be seen from a great distance.

Finally, exactly ten days from the time of the corporal's departure, his caravan was seen slowly and toilsomely descending the mountain toward the camp.

A great shout of gladness went up from all the men, who had tasted nothing but meat for a week past, and Tom, seizing his rifle started up the hill at a rapid pace to show the corporal the easiest way down the steep mountain side.

When the corporal reached camp the lieutenant complimented him highly upon his skill and success in overcoming difficulties, and declared his purpose to make a commendatory report of his conduct of the expedition.

"But how did you happen to come to us from up the mountain instead of from down the mountain?" asked the lieutenant, while eagerly devouring an ash cake.

"Why," said the corporal, "when I found my road up the mountain blocked by an impassable torrent, I remembered some of my old soldier experiences and I turned them around. I remembered that when we camp on hills and set out in search of water the rule is to keep always going down hill, because that's the way water runs. If you keep on doing that you'll come to water after awhile. So, turning that around, I said to myself, 'all this water comes from up the mountain. The only way to get past it is to go clear up to where it comes from.' That's what I did, and then I marched straight around the high mountain till I saw your brush fire last night about midnight. I wanted to come right on, but both the men and the mules were exhausted by a terrific day's work and besides it was too dark to see the difficult way; so I bivouacked for the night and started down the hill between daylight and sunrise. There, Lieutenant, that's the whole story, and it isn't much of a story, at that."

"Well, I don't know," said the lieutenant, meditatively. "It's enough of a story at any rate to make a sergeant out of Corporal Jenkins, if my recommendations carry any weight at headquarters. Corporal, you have conducted this affair in a masterly manner, with zeal, skill and discretion. My report will mention these facts."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," was all that the soldier could say. But it was quite enough.

CHAPTER XXXII

The Lieutenant's Wrath

The lieutenant's faith in Tom's sportsmanship was so great that in making his requisition for thirty days' rations for his men and his prisoners he had asked to have all the meat rations, except a dozen sides of bacon, commuted into rations of flour, meal, maccaroni, rice, potatoes and other starchy foods. His first care, after the mules were unloaded, was to replenish the leader of Camp Venture with such provisions as these in return for the drafts he had been compelled to make upon their supplies. "And besides," he said, "Camp Venture is just now my hospital, with five wounded men in it, to every one of whom ten days' rations are overdue."

Thus at last the boys were abundantly supplied with starchy food and for the rest Tom's gun never failed to provide a sufficient supply of meat.

Now that five of the six bunks in Camp Venture were occupied by wounded men, the boys made for themselves the best beds they could, on the earthen floor. At first it was proposed that the Doctor should occupy the one bunk not devoted to the use of a wounded man, but the Doctor dismissed the suggestion with scorn. Next it was suggested that Ed should still consider himself an invalid and accept the hospitality of the bunk.

"But I'm no longer an invalid," answered Ed, almost angrily. "I'm well enough now to chop down trees, and take cold baths. A pretty sort of sick fellow I am!"

Finally it was agreed that the several boys should occupy the bunk in succession, one each night, and lots were drawn for the order in which they should occupy it. As the soldiers now kept guard it was no longer necessary for the boys to keep a sentinel awake.

The lieutenant's second care after provisioning the boys, was to make another appeal to the revenue officer, or rather to place that person again in his rightful position of responsibility.

"I have provisioned my force," he said. "Are you contemplating any further operations in the mountains? If so I shall be glad to place myself and my men at your disposal. We can march at a moment's notice."

"I don't know," said the officer, "whether further operations just now would yield results commensurate with the risk. What do you think, Lieutenant?"

"Oh, it is not my business to think," answered the military man, "at least not on questions of that kind. I have been ordered up here to give military support to any operations that you may undertake against the illicit distillers. Beyond giving such military support I have no functions whatever."

"But what do you think, Lieutenant?"

"I tell you I am not thinking. I am simply waiting for orders."

"But surely you have some opinion. Won't you give me the benefit of it?"

"Yes," answered the lieutenant. "I have an opinion – several of them, in fact – and as you insist, I will give you the benefit of them. It is my opinion that you have conducted your affairs like an imbecile. You were sent up here to break up the illicit stills and you haven't found one of them yet and never will. You found this camp of wood chopping boys and made me capture it for you. Then the moonshiners took the offensive, while you were pottering around here trying to find a still where a mere glance would have convinced an intelligent man that there was none. Very well, I captured the moonshiners while you were hiding behind the Camp Venture barricade. They are our prisoners, no thanks to you. I think now, as I told you at the time, that then, if ever, was your time to search out the stills and capture them. You would not do it, and it is my conviction that by this time every still in the mountain is so securely hidden that a fine tooth comb couldn't find one of them or any tangible evidence that one of them was ever in existence. You've got the materials for a report, of course, – a report showing so many prisoners captured – but I fancy you'll find it difficult to show either that you captured them or that you had any authority to capture them. I captured them and I had a right to do so, because they attacked a body of regular troops engaged in doing their duty. In other words, they levied war upon the United States and were caught in the act. The charge of treason cannot be sustained against them, probably; if not they are guilty of rioting, assault and battery and all that sort of thing. But what charge can you bring against them? You may say that they are moonshiners, but you can't offer a particle of proof of that, simply because you would not follow up this affair by hunting out the stills. There, you have a few of my leading 'opinions,' and as you don't seem to relish them, perhaps I needn't give you any more."

The revenue agent was dejected beyond measure. For a time he sat still with a flushed and angry face. Then, as he realized the situation in which he had placed himself by his foolishness and indecision, he turned pale. Finally he appealed again to the lieutenant:

"Won't you advise me what to do now at any rate?" he asked.

"I'll advise you as to nothing. When the time to act came I volunteered some advice and you rejected it. I now simply notify you that my force will be held ready to march at a moment's warning to any point where you may feel the need of military support in the discharge of your duty."

"But, Lieutenant – "

"I tell you I have said all I am going to say," broke in the military man, angered quite as much by the man's imbecility as by his obvious cowardice. "I await any requisition you may make upon me for military support, and I will instantly respond to every such requisition. As to advice, I have none to offer. When we go back down the mountain, you doubtless will make your report. I will make mine also. Good night, sir."

And with that the lieutenant strode away to his camp fire out under the bluff, gave his orders for the night and went to sleep with a clear conscience.

CHAPTER XXXIII

A Homing Prospect

The revenue officers and the soldiers remained at Camp Venture, the Doctor caring for the wounded men who were rapidly recovering as the days went by. Meantime the boys were nearing the end of their winter's work and were looking forward rather eagerly to a home-going in the near future. Tom continued to hunt for game, and his diligence in that direction provided a sufficient supply of meat, while the lieutenant's stores furnished enough bread stuffs for all.

The chief revenue officer announced his purpose to take his party down the mountain as soon as the streams should be passable, and Jack announced his intention of taking his party down as soon as they should have finished the work they had laid out for themselves.

"I shan't wait for the streams to get out of the way," he said. "We'll go down the mountain not by the road, but over the cliffs as Tom did that night we were so scared about him. There are no streams to cross there. That's perfectly feasible, isn't it, Tom?"

"Oh, yes," answered Tom, "particularly as we shall have the Doctor along to patch up any broken legs or arms that we may get in dropping down over precipices."

"Is there serious danger of that?" asked Jim.

"Yes, if you are careless; no, if you are careful," answered Tom. "In fact, my experience teaches me that that's usually the case. The man who doesn't look out for himself usually meets with what he calls 'accidents' and blames Luck, or Fortune or Providence with mishaps which a little intelligent care on his own part would have averted. In fact I don't believe there is any such thing as accident, strictly speaking."

"How about that perforated ear of yours, Tom?" asked Ed.

"Oh, that illustrates my point. That wasn't an accident at all. I might have stayed here in the house that morning, and I'd have been perfectly safe. You see, I had no business out there on the line. The work to be done there belonged exclusively to the soldiers. But, with my curiosity to see how such things were managed I went out there and then like a young idiot I stood up by the lieutenant, when all the soldiers were lying down. If I hadn't done that I wouldn't have got my ear pierced. No, there's no such thing as accident in a world that is governed by law."

"But Tom," asked Jim Chenowith, "suppose you are on a railroad train and it runs off the track and you are considerably done up. Isn't that an accident?"

"No. The train would never have run off the track if everybody had done his duty. But somebody laid the rails carelessly, or some engineer failed to discover that a stone was loose on the cliff above and about to drop down on the track, or somebody else failed somewhere; otherwise the train would never have run off the track. I tell you I don't believe there is any such thing as accident, in the strict sense of the word. This world is governed by law. Causes produce their effects as certainly as the multiplication table gives its results. The trouble is we don't take enough care of the causes."

"But sometimes we don't know enough to do that," said Jack.

"Well, ignorance is the cause in that case. I don't say that one is always to blame for the evils that befall him. I only say that they don't befall him by 'accident,' and that with due care we can avoid most of them. That is particularly true in letting yourself down over a precipice by holding on to bushes. Some bushes hold on tenaciously and some give way with the smallest pull. The thing to do is never to let go of the secure one till you have tried the next one and satisfied yourself of its stability – or better still, never to trust yourself to one bush except while making an instantaneous change, but hold by two always. But I say, Jack, how near are we to the end of our job?"

"Well," said Jack, taking out his memorandum book and studying the entries in it, "we have only about sixty more ties to send down. We have already sent a great deal more cord wood than we agreed to, but as to that the railroad people said 'the more the better,' and so with bridge timbers. We did not agree to furnish any particular number of them and I fancy the railroad people didn't expect us to send more than two or three, while in fact we have sent down twenty-nine and have six more nearly ready to send. My plan is to cut the remaining ties which we are permitted to furnish under our contract, send down the bridge timbers that we have ready or nearly so, cut up all the remains of the felled timber into cord wood and send that down, and then go down ourselves. Even if the trail were open, which it isn't likely to be for some weeks to come, I should favor going down over the cliffs instead, because that will land us near where we want to be, while if we went down by the trail we should have to walk fifteen miles to get there."

The camp was early astir next morning, for now that the thought of going home had come to them, the boys were eager to hasten the time for it.

"By working hard," said Jack, "we can turn out ten or twelve ties a day, or under favorable conditions twenty. At three o'clock to-day we'll begin working the chutes and as I reckon it we'll be ready to start down a little before the first of April, and that was the date set. The weather is fine now and growing finer every day."

"Yes," answered Harry, "and the days are growing long enough to enable us to do full days' work."

Under the new inspiration the axes were briskly used that day until three o'clock. Then all hands were called to help roll the big bridge timbers into place and send them down the mountain. Four of them were sent off, the others not being quite ready yet. But the handling of these big timbers was slow work and so night fell before any of the ties or cordwood could be sent down the chute. There were twenty-one ties ready and about thirty cords of wood. But these must wait until three o'clock the next day, and by that time the number of ties and the quantity of cord wood would be considerably increased.