VALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

3 9002 06097 0754 O IvAJN ili j '

OE,

THE DOOM OF THE KEBEL GUARD.

Ml ^tory 0? me Sbtreat iRLtlJellioa,

OOSIAINIITG
[ INCIDENTS OF THE CAMPAIGN IN MISSOURI UNDER GENERALS
FREMONT AND SIGEL, AND THE THRILLING EXPLOITS
OF THE UNIONISTS UNDER
MAJOR ZAGONYI.

By sergt. j. WINSTON.

PUBLISHED BT
AN ASSOCIATION O*' DISABLED SOLDIERS.
1868.

"J$^ve thife JBoat/a
fer -the famnHSsg nf a. Col&gt in. this Coloa-f^

CORA O'KANE;

OE,

THE DOOM OF THE REBEL GUARD.

% Stcrg of i\t §xmi |lekllian.

CONTAINING

mCIDENTS OF THE CAMPAIGN IN MISSOURI UNDER GENERALS FREMONT
AND SIGEL, AND THE THRILLING EXPLOITS OF THE
^ UNIONISTS UNDER MAJOR ZAGONTL

By SEEGT. j. WINSTON.

PUBLISHED BY AN ASSOCIATION OF DISABLED SOLDIERS.
1868.

CORA O'KANE;
OK,
THE DOOM OF THE REBEL GUARD.

CHAPTER I.

The last month of the year 1860 will long be remembered
by the people of this generation, and will be marked as a
great epoch in history in all coming time. The causes that pro
duced the seeds which at last .ripened into outward strife, it is
not our purpose to dwell upon. It is not within our Jfc-ovince
so to do. We are not writing a history, but simply relating a
story of every-day life that occurred where passion and animosity
reigned in the hearts of men, arising from imaginary grievances
whicjl brought misery and ruin to many firesides that were but a
little while before so peaceful and happy ; and all this will be seen
by the reader as he peruses the following pages.
In the early part of the spring, 1861, in the small town of
Osceola, on the Osage River, in Missouri, stood a house of mag
nificent appearance for that remote part of the country, which but
a little before was a howling wilderness. Its style of architecture
was wholly confined to the taste of the occupant. Its lower rooms
were large and airy, and with its huge chimneys, built upon the
outside, besmeared with smoke as they were, with a very little
imagination might be conjured into the turrets and towers of a
baronial castle — especially when viewed from a distance. The
building fronted the river, and from its front door, with its ivy-
woven stoop, led a commodious walk to the water's edge. The
kitchen and the apartments prej^ared for the servants were situ-
(3)

4 COEA O'KANE, OE
ated in the rear part of the structure. North of the house stood
the cottage of the overseer, with outhoUses and sheds, while off
in the same direction might be seen the habitations of the field
hands, that were very neatly arranged into streets. East and west
from the buildings, extending back from the river, stretched the
broad plantation, containing many acres. There was no other
dwelling in the immediate neighborhood. It was more than two
miles to the residence of the next planter, whom we shall call the
Hon. John McBride ; and, owing to his astonishing influence over
the planters in Osceola and vicinity, it became the hotbed of Seces
sion. It is true that it was also the residence of some of the most
devoted and self-sacrificing Union men whicK the country produced
in that trying time ; yet by far the greater part of its inhabitants
warmly espoused the cause of Secession.
For some time previous to the commencement of our tale, the
Gulf States had been agitated by their leading minds withfthe
pernicious doctrine of State Rights, and in Missouri it found many
advocates, where the continual discussion of this question caused
party feeling to run high. Families were divided upon the great
question, and in many instances they were completely broken up
and sepirated — so tenaciously did each cling to their opinions. And
now, that ten of the states were determined to array themselves
against the government, emissaries were sent into this state to
strengthen their cause, ftnd their aggravating conduct had engen
dered a feeling of deep and bitter hostility between the inharotants
of this section, which only waited to display itself in deeds of vio
lence and cruelty when a fitting opportunity should occur.
The house described to the reader was the residence of Thomas
O'Kane, a wealthy and influential man, who had now become one
of the most unrelenting and determined leaders of Secession in this
part of the country. He held a commission from the state gov
ernment as a magistrate, and was now appointed colonel by, the
Confederate authorities ; and he unscrupulously and unsparino-ly
used his authority to the advancement of the Confederate cause,
and to the injuiy and oppres.sion of the few Union men who lived
within the reach of his influence or power. He was a middle-aged
^an, somewhat above'the ordinary size, with dark,' repulsive fea
tures, and an eye that glanced constantly with sinister expressions.
He was a widower, his wife having died a few years previous to his

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUARD. 5
introduction to the reader, leaving him only one child, a son, who
was absent from home for the purpose of receiving an education.
Since the death of his wife his household affairs had been under
the management of his wife's sister, a sallow, dried, and withered
maiden of some forty years, who was every way as tyrannical and
overbearing, and, withal, as warm a Secessionist, as her brother-
in-law. Both were feared and reverenced by their Secession neigh
bors, and both were heartily detested by the Unionists within the
circle of their acquaintance.
Up to the time of which we are now writing, the Unionists and
Secessionists of this vicinity had not come to any open and serious
rupture. The mutually exposed and accessible situation of their
property had, in a great measure, tended to restrain the violent pas
sions that were burning in their breasts, for they feared the injuries
which each might do the other, and they well knew that, under
the existing state of affairs, these injuries would be irreparable.
But it was evident to all that the plot was thickening, and the time
was not far distant when the mutterings and threatenings of the
storm must be exchanged for the storm itself.
In addition to the sister-in-law above mentioned, the family of
O'Kane consisted of a niece, the daughter of a deceased*>brother,
who had died in New Orleans of a prevailing epidemic- He left
an immense fortune, which he bequeathed to this daughter and her
heirs, if she left issue; but in case she died childless, the whole
should revert to O'Kane and his heirs. The uncle was made
guardian to hjs niece, and executor of the last will and testament
of the deceased. Cora O'Kane was scarcely seventeen, yet she
possessed remarkable beauty. She was above the ordinary size,
and her form, although not gross, was large and voluptuous. Her
countenance owed not its attractions so much to symmetrical " rule
and compass " dimensions and proportions, as it did to the peculiar
and winning expression which it wore. Her eye, a dark hazel,
could express every passion, from the tenderest emotions of the
soul to the wildest bursts of enthusiasm and resentment. Her hair
was dark and glossy, and she usually wore it destitute of curls or
omament, and in such a manner as developed the beautiful and
classical proportions of her head. In early infancy She had lost
her mother, yet her father had spared no pains or expense in the
culture and training of her mind.

b COEA O'KANE, OR
Cora had been a resident of the house of her uncle some three
years previous to 1860, and although her situation, destitute of
father and mother, was such as would readily command the sym
pathy of almost any individual, yet she had experienced but sorry
treatment at the hands of her guardian and the " withered crone "
she was obliged to call aunt. She well knew the cause of this
treatment, for, young as she was, she possessed suflScient penetra
tion to read the character of her uncle ; and she knew that his
whole life was bound up in political distinction and the acquire
ment of wealth. She knew, also, although nothing had been said
to her directly upon the subject, J;hat it was the intention of her
uncle to wed her to his son, — who was at this time absent, re
ceiving his education, — thereby securing to his own family the
estate which she possessed ; but, in her own mind, she had deter
mined to die rather than consent to the union. She always undis
guisedly manifested an aversion for him, and ehe well knew that
such conduct chagrined and mortified the uncle and aunt. She was
also a warm Unionist. Her whole soul was enlisted in the cause
of the loyal people, and she sought not to disguise this fact from
her uncle. These causes, she justly concluded, led the uncle to
treat her with severity.
Her cousin, William O'Kane, whose amorous addresses she had
rejected, was a tall, ill-formed youth of some twenty years, with
coarse, repulsive features, and in disposition equally as overbearino-
as his father. He was strongly conceited in favor of his own
person and understanding, and seemed, in fact, to regard himself
as the embodiment of all that was beautiful and desirable. His
political opinions were the same as his father's ; and, indeed the
astonishing ingenuity which he displayed in insulting and torment
ing his Union neighbors was the very circumstance that had induced
his father to send him away to be educated. He was utterly inca
pacitated naturally from forming an attachment which could call
forth any of the finer and nobler feelings of man's nature ; ^et he
had been heard to say that his cousin Cora " was tolerably good
looking, and as rich as Cassar." Undoubtedly the youth imao-ined
this, coming as it did from his noble self, as a compliment of no
trifling importance, and as one that was to commend him especially
to the ypung lady concerning whom it had been spoken. When he
was last at home, his father had disclosed to him his intentions in

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUARD. 7
relation to his union with Cora, and he was instructed to report
himself at home at the next vacation in order that the nuptials
might be celebrated. Accustomed to an unlimited control in all
things, he did not deem it of the least importance to consult his
niece upon a^atter which involved so vital -and important an inter
est of hers.
During the spring of 1861, Thomas O'Kane, in connection with
John McBride and other Secession leaders, was employed in arrla-
ging and disposing of plans for the prosecution of the war, which,
it was now obvious to the commonest understanding, would shortly
be upon them. The Unionists of this vicinity were not idle in the
mean time. As we have before stated, they were few in number ;
but in determination and enthusiasm they were a host. They held
frequent meetings in private and secluded places, being determined
to establish as good and effective an organization as the circum
stances of the case would allow.
About half way between Osceola and Warsaw, and but a few
rods from the banks of the Osage, was the cabin of a young
hunter, who was known among the settlers by the name of Marvin
Wilson. He first came into this region some three years previous
to the opening of this narrative ; and although his language, his
bearing, and indeed his whole appearance, denoted that he had been
highly educated, and reared in the first society, yet he proceeded to
erect a cabin for himself in a secluded spot, and immediately after
assumed the guise of a hunterV — pursuing any and all game whose
fur was in the least degree valuable. He was tall, nobly propor
tioned, with a countenance and aspect that at once convinced the
beholder that he was no ordinary individual. His eye was large
and piercing, his forehead high and ample, and his raven hair hung
in long, glossy ringlets around a neck that might have furnished
a painter with a model. There was nothing aristocratic or over
bearing in his action or language, yet he seemed formed to lead,
and all who carae into his presence felt that they were willing to
obey. He dressed, in pursuance ofhis vocation, in a kind of semi-
military style, and his rifle was his never-failing attendant. %11 in
all, he was as noble and elegant a specimen of manhood as eye could
wish to gaze upon.
His cabin was built at the base of a rocky eminence that rose
abrubtly from the shores of the river, and was composed in part of

8 CORA O'KANE, OE '
logs, and partly of the hill itself, which had been excavated for that
purpose, afterwards lined securely with logs, roughly squared with
an axe, and covered with the skins of deer and other animals. A
small door, one part of which served also as a window, afforded
ingress and egress, and just above the bark roof ot the wooden
part of the edifice passed a rough stone chimney. His furniture
consisted of two rough-made stools, a bench, or table, to match, a
small Indian looking-glass, a kettle, and one or two coarse culinary
utensils. His bed, which was placed in the excavated portion of the
cabin, was composed entirely of the skins of animals. On a shelf,
that stretched nearly around the whole apartment, was a razor and
comb, and a few other articles of the toilet, and just beside the
door was a huge fireplace, which did infinite credit to the prevail
ing fashion in relation to such indispensable appurtenances.
Here, in this secluded place, Marvin Wilson had lived since his
advent into this region. None knew whence he came, or what his
former life had been. He was about twenty-eight years of age,
which he manifested no anxiety to conceal ; but when questioned in
relation to his connections or former residence, his brow became
gloomy, and his answers were such as caused his interrogators to
desist from their scrutiny. Marvin Wilson was a strong Unionist,
and he possessed a powerful and persuasive eloquence, and a keen
and biting satire, which he used fearlessly upon all occasions in
favor of his adopted state remaining in the Union. He was fairly
adored by his Union friends, who made him their leader ; and at the
fall election, prior to the breaking out of the rebellion, he was
elected to the legislature from his precinct, and manfully did battle
for the Union cause. When he returned from the capital, in March,
he found that ThAmas O'Kane had taken a decided stand in favor
of secession. Up to this time Marvin had been acknowlec^oed a
guest at the house of O'Kane. He was now acknowledo-ed and
allowed as such no longer. It was more than rumored that Cora
O'Kane and Marvin were inexpressibly dear to each other, althou"h
from the watchfulness of the uncle it was impossible for them to
enjoy* anything like uninterrupted communication. Rumor or no
rumor, it is certain that when the name of Cora O'Kane was men
tioned, the eyes of Marvin brightened ; and when Cora gazed upon
him, it was with a heightened' color in her cheek, and a heaving at
the breast, that denoted unusual emotion.
\

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL 6UAED. 9
William's vacation at last arrived, and, punctual to the require
ments of his father, he returned, and all the domestics of the house
were busily engaged in making preparations to celebrate the nup
tials of the hopeful youth and his cousin.

CHAPTER II.
In about a week after the announcement had been made that
Marvin Wilson's presence was no longer desired at the house of
O'Kane, as we have stated in the previous chapter, Cora was sit
ting in her room, pleasantly engaged in reading, when her uncle
entered, and unceremoniously seated himself by her side. His
brow was unusually open and smooth, and a ffftnished-looking
smile was struggling for a resting-place around his lips. It was
plainly evident to the young lady that some enterprise was in view
which her gallant uncle was intending to carry by smiles and
suavity. After a short interval he turned to her.
" Cora," said he, " Cora, my child, these are uncertain and very
gloomy times. We are threatened with a war, through the mis
conduct of a few hot-headed and deluded men, and there is no
telling what its consequences may be to us. We may be ruined by
it, my child."
Cora particularly noticed the endearing appellation of " my child,"
which, for the first time in his life, the uncle had bestowed upon
her. She thought of the fable of the wolf and the lamb; but deter
mined not to be outdone by her relative in the game he had under
taken to play.
" My dear uncle," she answered, " I am well aware that these
are ^ngerous ^ftnes. It seems to me that if we continue to give
aid to Secession, 'land persist in the harsh measures of our leaders,
war will inevitably be the consequence."
" No," replied the uncle, " our Confederate leaders are not in the
wrong ; it is these cursed, low-born Unionists. There's where the
diflBculty lies."
" I am sure, uncle, the Unionists ask nothing but what is rea
sonable and right;" replied Cora ; " their only desire is to remain in
peace under the protection of the old flag, and adhere to the institu
tions handed down to them by their fathers."
2

10 COEA O'KANE, OE
The brow of O'Kane lowered, but recoUecting himself, he re
plied, —
" Well, well, we will not discuss politics, Cora. I came to talk
with you on a more pleasing theme. You are now, let me see —
how old are you, Cora?"
" I am a little past seventeen," repHed she.
"Yes, yes, I might have known," continued O'Kane, musingly,
" I might -have known ; but the fact is, I am growing old and for
getful. You are now at that age when you begin to — a — want a
— a — when, in short, Miss Cora, nearly all young women want a
suitable companion of the opposite sex. Ha, ha, ha ! " and he
forced a laugh to conceal his confusion.
" I must confess, uncle," replied Cora, slightly coloring, " that I
have not yet experienced the want of any such companion as you
have set forth."
She dropped her eyes confusedly as she concluded her reply, for
the image of Marvin flitted past her mind's eye.
"The leant is not, perhaps, the proper term," continued O'Kiine,
who had observed the emphasis with which Cora had repeated it.
" I should have said desire, perhaps."
" I have neither experienced desire nor want," replied Cora, in
tently gazing at nothing.
"You will soon be eighteen years of age," continued O'Kane,
"and then, according to my brother's wUl, you are to enter upon
the possession of your fortune. You are very young, Cora, to
manage so large a sum prudently, and I had come to the conclu
sion to offer you a young man as a husband who would bQ most
likely to riianage your property in a way the most conducive to your
happiness and enjoyment. You ought to know, Cora, that this is
not with me a matter of interest, for in case you ^ould die wilhout
heirs, the property reverts to me, or, should I be dead before you,
to my heirs." ^
"I am willing to give you credit for perfect disinterestedness,"
replied Cora, " but, my dear uncle, I choose to marry whom and
when I please."
O'Kane bit his lips at this announcement, and a pause of -a
few moments ensued. At length he resumed, in a melancholy •
tone, —
"You are the only child, Cora, of my only brother, and I am

THE DOOM OF THB EEBEL GUAED. 11
t
sure I may be pardoned for interfering in your arrangements. My
brother often wrote to me in his letters that nothing would give
him so much happiness as to see our families united by the strongest
ties of aflSnity and friendship. He's gone now, poor fellow " (here
he dropped a tear) , ." yet, if we are aught in heaven as we are on
earth, he must desire so pleasant a state of affairs. I will not con
ceal from you the fact that my son William loves you, and is willing
and anxious to become your protector ; and I will not deny that I
had fondly anticipated such an event."
The allusion to her father brought the tears to the eyes of Cora,
and when her uncle concluded his hypocritical speech, she was still
in tears. She determined, however, to put a final end to any such
anticipations as O'Kane had described, and she answered accordingly.
" I should be glad of an opportunity of accommodating my uncle,
but, in this particular, I cannot. I never can be the wife of William.
I love him not, and can never love him ; and I beg, sir, that this
may be the last time you will ever speak to me on the subject."
" I'll be d — d if you shall not have him ! " exclaimed O'Kane furi
ously, striking his fist against a small table standing near with such
violence that it fell upon the floor. " I'll be d — d if you shall not
have him ! Your mind has been poisoned with the infernal doc
trines of the Unionists. That accursed adventurer, Wilson, would
perhaps suit the fastidious taste of your ladyship better ! But you
are yet under my control, thank God ! "
The ftuy of her uncle somewhat alarmed Cora ; but as it was
not quite unexpected, she soon recovered herself, and somewhat
proudly replied, —
" Your son must rejoice inithe man he has selected as his wooer.
Oaths and gesticulations go far to win the heart of a timid girl ! "
O'Kane saw at a glance where he had missed his calculation, but
it was too late to go back. His violent passions had obtained the
mastery. He therefore said, —
"Taunt me not, madam, for you cannot elude me. I have* you
fast, and there are none to scrutinize or ask the cause of my conduct.
I tell you again that you shall wed my son or you shall never wed.
I am not the man to jest. I am one who resolves and executes."
" It is not my poor person tbat your son covets," replied Cora ;
" it is my property. I feel confident that my fortune would satisfy
him, and I am wiUing this uight to convey it aU, every farthing, to

12 COEA O'KANE, OE
)
him, provided his father wiU never again bring up to me the subject
of my union with him. Take the whole ; I give it freely, rejoi
cingly." This annunciation cut O'Kane to the quick. He was naturally a
proud man, and when he saw that Cora had so correctly divined
the power of her attractions, he felt mortified, and, despite his lack
of shame, looked abashed. Lowering his tone materially, however,
he replied, —
" My spn is not a beggar, madam ; neither will he be portionless
when he arrives at his majority. This sarcasm will not materiaUy
advantage you, you may depend upon it. My word in regard to
your union is passed. I never, never retract."
As he concluded speaking, he turned on his heel and quitted the
apartment, leaving Cora alone.
Her feelings may be better imagined than described. She was
completely in the power of her uncle, and she saw no way to escape
the odious union ; yet she determined, at all hazards, to brave her
uncle's wrath, and, in fact, to die rather than submit to. his require
ments. In the midst of her perplexities the door again opened,
and her aunt entered. Seating herself in an unoccupied chair, and
pursing up her mouth to the smallest possible dimensions, she thus
addressed Cora : —
" So, miss, you have refused to accept the offer of your kind
uncle — eh? A pretty thing, truly! A young girl, like you,
refuse an offer of that kind ! Things have come to a pretty pass,
indeed ! "
The hag iiere made a slight pause, and gazed fiercely at Cora,
who sat silent and weeping. Giving her head a toss, she resumed, —
" I wonder what you can think of yourself, miss ! I wonder what
plans you have concocted for your future existence I May be you
think to get a lord, or a duke, or some other great man ! I declare,
if I ain't beat ! Refuse Mr. William ! I guess a girl of your age
in fhy day would never refuse such an offer as that."
In this strain Miss Rebecca (for so the aunt was called) contin
ued to berate the poor girl until she exhausted her own breath, and
was obliged to give it up. To all her taunts, Cora replied not a
word ; and when, in a short time after the conclusion of her last
endeavor, her aunt retired, she sought her bed, but not to sleep.
A hundred different plans her tortured ingenuity suggested whereby

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 13
she could escape from the persecution of her uncle ; but her reason
rejected them all. At one time she resolved to acquaint Wilson with
the whole affair ; but, upon second thought, her modesty forbade it.
At another tirae she resolved to fly from beneath her uncle's roof;
then her reason asked-her where she should go, and by what instru
mentality escape. In this manner she lay and planned, and arranged
and rearranged, until morning, when she arose feverish and unre-
freshed. She met her uncle and her cousin at the breakfast table
with fear and trembling ; ,but the meal passed off in silence, nor
could she detect a ray upon the countenance of either which could
afford her the slightest clew as to what conclusion her conduct of
the previous night had caused them to arrive.
For several weeks she lived in constant dread of a renewal of
her cousin's suit ; yet she was disappointed. Not a word was spoken
upon the subject by either her uncle or her cousin, and even old.
Rebecca hafl ceased to make it the groundwork of her diurnal lec
tures. Cora flattered herself that the hateful match was forgotten,
that her uncle had thought better of his duty and his interest, and
she began to be even cheerful and comparatively happy. Nay, she
even could bear the presence of Mr. Williara, and frequently engaged
him in sorae of the lighter amusements of the moment. , Poor girl !
with aU her tact, she knew not with what a monster she was dealing.

CHAPTER III.
It was not far from the middle of June that O'Kane retumed
home fron* a few days' absence. He had been raising troops for the
defence of the Confederate authorities in the state. The inmates of
the house gathered around him in silence as he related to them how
well they had got their state guards organized, and his hopes of
success. And, as Cora came down to greet him, he said very
emphaticaUy that all Lincoln's minions in Missouri must bow tcf the
superiority of his Confederate guards.
" My .dear father," said WiUiam, " inasmuch as you are to be at
home for a few days, what say you for inviting our neighbors and
friends, and having a sociable here ? "
To this he readily assented, and the rest of the day was occupied
in making preparations for the dance. The next morning, at an

14 COEA O'KANE, OE
early hour, all was bustle around the house. The servants, with
their shining black faces, were running to and fro from the kitchen
¦ to other parts of the house, while on the lawn around the house
seats were prepared for the invited guests, and grinning Africans,
with cracked fiddles in their hands, were waitiag for the company to
assemble on the lawn — which they did early in the forenoon. The
exercises commenced with a spirited political harangue by Colonel
O'Kane on the righteousness of the Confederate cause ; after which
the celebrated baUad, " Success to the Bonnie Blue Flag," was sung
by the whole company, with Sambo playing the accorapaniraent on
his cracked fiddle. The dancing now commenced, and aU went
merry as a marriage bell. After the dancing ceased, the company
were treated to a luxurious feast that was served up to them on tables
in the open air. They had not fairly commenced feasting when the
•attention of the whole company was directed to a skiff which was
rapidly advancing in the river from the direction of Warsaw. In
her bow waved the "bonnie blue flag." As the boat neared the
land, in the direction of the house, in a few moments her shght keel
grated upon the pebbly shore, and three men leaped upon the sward
and hastened towards the table. No sooner had they arrived within
speaking distance than Colonel O'Kane addressed thera.
" What news do you bring ? "
After the sergeant had saluted him, he said that General Frost
and his men had been surprised by six thousand Unionists under the
command of Colonel Blair, and he, of course, had to surrender.
" Were you there at the time ? " asked Colonel O'Kane.
" No, sir ; I had been detached to the headquarters of General
Price, as an orderly, and here is a note from him." •
The colonel seized the note with a trembling hand, tore open the
envelope, and read aloud as foUows : — " BoONViLLE, June 28.
*Deae Coeonel : General Frost has got into a tight place, and
with him are gobbled up the munitions and gune that arrived so lately
from the Baton Rouge Arsenal for our use. Therefore I command
you to remain in your vicinity and recruit as many men as you pos
sibly can, and we will contrive to provide you with equipments as
fast as possible. You are promoted as colonel of this special Guard,
vvith the rank of brigadier general ; and as you already retain the

THE DOOM OF THE EfiBEL GUAED. 15
civU oflfice of raagistrate in your county, we give you the power to
try and hang any man that dares to usurp your power or thwart
you in your course. . Yours, respectfully, " Steeling Peice,
"Major General of the State Forces."
" Then," said the colonel, folding up the letter, " I am to be the
commander of a special guard, and ivoe to the man or men that will
not enlist at my command and* make obeisance to the bonnie blue
flag. And be assured, my friends," he said, turning around to his
visitors, they being all Secessionists, "this vicinity shall be cleared
of these accursed free-labor men and Unionists before the next three
months." Then stepping to one of the tables he seized a bottle of'
wine, and said, " Let us drink a bumper to the noble Guard we are
going to raise."
He was here interrupted by the loud baying of two hounds in the
fore"fet, apparently but a few rods south of the house. The whole
group turned their heads in the direction of the sound, and in a few
moments a noble buck bounded into view, instantly foUowed by two
dogs, all making directly for the river. It was apparent that the
deer was nearly spent, yet he dashed past the group of gazers with
out appearing to notice them, and, clearing the fence at the lowest
end of the yard, struck boldly into the river, closely pursued by the
dogs. "Whose dogs are those?" questioned O'Kane, eagerly gazing at
the exciting scene. "
" They are Marvin WUson's, father," replie(^ William. " I have
often seen them follow him."
" Marvin WUson's ! " exclaimed O'Kane, anxiously turning to his
son. " How came they here, I wonder? "
" Probably he's close at hand himself," responded the son. " Per
haps my cousin Cora knows if that be the case ? "
AU eyes were tumed upon that young lady, who suddenly grew
deadly pale, and both dogs and deer were forgotten.
" I know nothing at all about it," she said, faintly, seeing that she
was expected to speak. " My cousin knows that I have no oppor
tunity of being acquainted with the movements of Mr. Wilson."
" It's to be hoped that he'll follow his dogs," exclaimed O'Kane,
fiercely. "I think we'll make his welcome comfortably warm —
won't we boys, eh ? "

16 COEA O'KANE, OE
" Ay, ay," responded the guests.
" WeU, if youVe got through talking with those men, I can't see
what use there is in letting the dinner spoU for the sake of Marvin
WUson," exclaimed aunt Rebecca, in something of a rage,
" That's true, sister," replied O'Kane. " Come, my friends, let's
renew our meal," he added, tuming to his guests. " And here you,
WUliam, give our wortiiy friends from General Price something to
drink, and see that they be well provided with eatables."
The whole company again seated themselves at the table, and in
a short time the raeal was despatched. Soon after the conclusion
of the feast, the party was again assembled upon the shore to wit
ness the embarkation of General Price's men, who were -now about
to return to that oflficer's headquarters. The boat was ready to
shove off, and O'Kane was freighting the ears of the sergeant with
intelligence and messages for General Price, when a sUght scream
from some of the junior feraale members of the party attracted the
attention of all.
" What's the matter ? " suddenly exclaimed O'Kane, partiaUy
turning round.
" See yonder, father ! " said William, pointing with a trembling
finger in the direction of the barns.
The whole party simultaneously gazed in the direction designated
by the young man, and observed the finely-proportioned figure of
Marvin Wilson slowly approaching. He was dressed in a plain
green hunting-shirt, with buckskin underclothes and moccasins,
with a rifle thrown carelessly across his arm. He evidently saw the
group near the rivei;^yet he steadily held on his way towards them.
The countenance of O'Kane grew dark and frowning, the female
portion of the company looked anxious and timid, and the whole
assembly awaited his approach in silence. In a few moraents the
young hunter approached them, and turning to the ladies with a
smile and a bow, exclaimed, —
" Good aftemoon, ladies and gentlemen. Do not let me inter
rupt your pleasures. I would merely inquire if any of you have
seen two dogs pass this way in pursuit of game ? "
" Who the devil are you, that talk of interrupting our sports in
this cavalier manner?" coarsely replied O'Kane. " Do you know
where you are, sirrah ? "
" I thought I was upon the premises of a gentleman," calmly
repUed WUson, " but I see I am mistaken."

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 17
"None of your wit at the expense oLme or my guests, caitiff! "
retorted O'Kane. " Those who seek to imbrue their hands in the
blood of their neighbors can expect courtesy from the hands of no
one." " Then ¦you should take no offence at my interruption," exclaimed
WUson, slightly kindling.
" D — n him ;' let's flog hira ! " fiercely cried O'Kane.
"Yes, yes," responded several of the bystanders, "that's the sort !
flog the scoundrel ! "
A slight groan resounded from the knot of females, and Cora
O'Kane fell to the ground senseless. She was immediately raised
in the arms of some of her companions, whilst others stepped to the
river's brink for water. In a few moments she revived.
" You had better take Cora to the house, Rebecca," said O'Kane.
" It may hurt her conscience to see a Unionist justly dealt by."
Rebecca proceeded to lead Cora towards the hou^e, followed by
all the females of the group. As the trembling girl passed WUson,
she gave him a glance that penetrated to his inmost heart. It spoke
to his understanding more than volumes could reveal. As soon as
the feraales left the ground, O'Kane again turned and addressed him
self to WUson.
" I wUl teU you, young sir, in order that you may know the rea
sons for our conduct, that we are perfectly acquainted with your
character and designs. You are a base ahd murderous Unionist,
and are this moment enga — "
" That I am a Union man I will never deny," fiercely interrupted
WUson, his eye flashing fire ; " but whoever says I am base or mur
derous is a Har in his throat ! "
O'Kane's inflamed features paled at this fierce annunciation, but,
castrag his eye upon the group of sturdy men by whom he was sur
rounded, he continued, not noticing the interruption, — " this mo
ment engaged in a plot with another lawless marauder to murder aU
the Confederates in this vicinity. Can you deijy this charge, villain
that you are?" he added, with a malicious grin.
"How brave a coward can be when supported by bands of friends ! "
sneeringly repHed WUson, at the same tihie pointing a finger at
O'Kane. " Give me but a chance for fair play," he continued, " I
pledge myself to make you acknowledge what you have asserted
now to be as base a lie as your black heart can conceive."
3

18 COEA O'KANE, OE
"Have a 'care what j^ou say, viUain, for you are in my power,
and I could string you to tfie first tree in the forest if I chose. Have
a care ! "
" Have a care ! " sneeringly, responded WUson ; " another evidence
of your dastardly cowardice ! Threaten a man when you are sur
rounded with forces in abundance ! I know not what you may
choose to do with me, nor do I fear for the consequences ; but this
much I do know ; one among your number is a dead man if any of
you dare assault my person."
Saying this, Wilson brought his rifle aport, and was about setting
back the cock, when Sergeant Hughes, who had crept behind him
unperceived, threw both his arms violently around his waist, and
the rifle fell to the ground. It was immediafely seized by one of
the bystanders, who discharged it in the air and threw it upon the
grass. A violent struggle ensued between Wilson and Hughes ;
but the mass coming to- the assistance of the sergeant, WUson was
soon overpowered and thrown upon the ground. His hands and
feet were next securely bound with a strong rope, which was pro
vided by O'Kane, and he was then left to struggle at his leisure.
The Confederates speedily formed a ring around him, and stood
gazing upon him with evident delight.
"What do you say to shooting folks now, you d — d scoundrel?"
said Hughes, who was standing just outside the ring, half bent,
while the blood ran from his nose in a stream.
" Let's make him huzza for Jeff Davis ! " shouted WUliam, gaz
ing exultingly upon his fallen rival.
" Huzza ! glorious ! " shouted a dozen voices. " Make him
huzza for Jeff Davis. 'Twill do his Yankee throat good, thouo-h
it disgraces Davis's name."
" Let's tie him to one of the pines," cried William ; " and then,
d — n him, we'll flog him until he huzzas."
" Glorious ! " shouted the rabble ; and away they ran — some for
ropes, with which to secure him to the tree, and others for whips,
to force him to a compUance with their wishes.
Wilson lay upon the ground during this brutal arrano-ement with
his eyes closed. He felt it was in vain to struggle. He knew he
was completely in the power of his enemies. His rao-e in the first
instance was almost unbounded, but he gradually worked himself
calm. He was possessed of strong, nay, violent, passions; yet he

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 19
was a person of reason and reflection. He was utterly insensible
to fear ; yet when he heard them announce their determination of
flogging him, an unusual sensation crossed his breast. It was not
fear, yet it was a sort of disgusted dread of so degrading and un
manly a punishment. In his present situation he could have died
without a murmur ; yet at the thought of being flogged like a dumb
beast his whole soul revolted.
In a short time a shout from the rebels announced that the ar
rangements for tying him to the tree were all completed, and in a
few moments he was borne in the arms of some half a dozen of
them, and placed upon his feet at the foot of a small pine directly
in front of the house. His coat and vest were then stripped off,
and he was securely bound to the gummy trunk, with his back out
ward. A pUe of slim green Hmbs of suflficient size to inflict a bitter
wound was then placed by his side. A loud caU from WiUiam theu
summoned his companions to witness the " sport," as he was pleased
to term it. In a short time the whole squad was again around their
prisoner, aU wearing looks of inflnite satisfaction. Up to this time
Marvin Wilson had not spoken a word. He knew from the first
that nothing short of an interposition of Providence could save him
from his punishment, and he resolved to bear it in silence. But
when he saw the arrangeraents for his torture all complete, and the
process about to commence, he could not refrain from saying a few
words. Turning his head from the tree as well as his bonds would
permit, he caught the surly eye of O'Kane, and to him he addressed
himself. " O'Kane," said he, " this quarrel seems to have been between
you and me. I own I am completely in your power, and I am wUl
ing you should enjoy the advantage ; but for God's sake, if you are
determined to wreak your vengeance upon me, do it like a Chris
tian, and not in this brutal and barbarous manner. Shoot me, if
you please, or hang me."
" Hear the whining cur ! " replied O'Kane, addressing himself to
his friends, not even deigning to notice his prisoner. " What's be
come of the feUow's courage, of which he made such pompous boasts
but a few minutes since ? Now he's as chicken-hearted as a woman."
"That's the truth," cried Hughes, stepping up to the pile of whips
and selecting the largest he could find. "I'll teach him a lesson,
though. I claim the first privilege at the dastard, as I received the
wounds in securing him."

20 COEA O'KANE, OE
Hughes raised his arm, and was about to strike, when WiUiam
shouted, —
" Hold, Hughes ! let's call the girls, that they may witness the
sport. The fellow has an enviable reputation as a gallant."
Hughes lowered his arm, and William haUooed loudly for the
ladies. They rushed to the door, with the exception of Cora ; but
when* they saw Wilson, and the brutal preparations with which he
was surrounded, all, save Miss Rebecca, quickly retired. Hughes
again approached the prisoner, and aU was silent. He stood for a
moment coolly selecting a spot upon his victim's back where he
might most cruelly plant his first blow, and then he raised his sin
ewy arm and the blow descended. At the first stroke the blood
bedyed the prisoner's shirt ; but blow after blow, each succeedulg the
other rapidly, and each increasing in brutal force, feU upon his back,
until Hughes was exhausted, and stepped back into the circle. Wil
son's back was lacerated, and the blood flowed in streams ; yet he
uttered not a word. A few big and scalding tears chased each other
down his cheeks, but not a muscle in his countenance moved. In
a few moments after Hughes's blows had ceased, O'Kane stepped
into the circle, and selecting a whip, thus addressed Wilson, at the
same time preparing to participate in his torture : —
"What say you now, young brave? If I release you, wiU you
huzza for Jeff Davis? "
" Never, by the eternal God ! " replied WUson, in a voice so
calm, yet so concentrated, that O'Kane started as if he had been
stung by an adder ; and then, as if ashamed of the fear he had
betrayed, he raised his arm and dealt WUson a severe blow.
"What do you say now?" he asked again, grinding his teeth.
" As you give, you shaU receive," replied WUson, in the same
calm tone as before.
"D — n me, but the feUow is game, after all," cried Huo-hes.
" He threatens us yet. Huzza for Jeff Davis, my lad," he contin
ued ; " your back will thank you."
Wilson made no reply to this unfeeling speech, and O'Kane was
about to continue his torture, when th^ sharp, quick cry of a doo-
caused all to start and to turn in the direction of the sound. The
next moment the two dogs which had passed a short time before in
pursuit of the deer dashed into the circle and began leapino- and
fawning upon their master. WUson regarded them in sUeuce, but
the big tears coursed down his cheeks in rapid succession.

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 21
"D — nthe dogs," cried Hughes ; "don't let them stop the sport.
Drive them frora the ring."
No one stepped forward to put this threat into execution, and
O'Kane struck the prisoner another blow. Scarcely had it de
scended, however, ere the dog that stood nearest his master seized
the human brute by the throat, and hurled him to the ground. All
instantly rushed to the rescue of O'Kane ; and in the melie which
ensued, a stranger emerged from the neighboring forest unobserved,
and approached the scene of strife. He exchanged glances of
recognition with Wilson, and then stood calmly surveying the scene.
The person of this stranger needs a particular description. His
name is Archie Carter. By birth a Tennesseean, his father had
moved to Texas when he was quite young. Here he remained
until a few years previous to the opening of our story ; and, as he
loved the wandering life of a trapper, he pursued his game from
forest to forest, and river to river, untU we now fijid him on the
banks of the Osage, a tributary of the Missouri. He was some
thing of a miUtary man, and had served under Walker, in the
Mexican war, and had shown himself more than ordinarily brave
at the battle of Palo Alto. In stature he was nearly seven feet,
and of noble, nay, gigantic proportions. His face was the person
ification of homeliness ; yet any one acquainted with physiognomy
could easily discover in its coarse lines the marks of keen sagacity,
dry humor, and genuine feeUng ; and these raarks did not belie his
character. His eye was a piercing gray one, surmounted by heavy
eyebrows, which looked as if they had been planted helter-skelter
. by Darae Nature, and never had experienced the benefits of cultiva
tion. His hair was coarse, and slightly gray, cut short, and, from
its appearance, each hair seemed to be possessed of reason, and to
stand in utter fear and abhorrence of its neighbor in either direction.
In short, as the individual "himself expressed it, "each hair was on
its own hook." His nose, which was large and prominent, bore
visible marks of hard service, as it possessed two distinct crooks,
of such peculiar conformation as denoted that they were knocked
into existence. His raouth was capacious ; and when his lips parted,
they disclosed two rows of teeth that would, to all appearance, laugh
at shark's-raeat steak or sea-biscuit.
His dress was as singular as his figure. It consisted of a cap of
dressed deerskin, around the top of which were suspended several

22 COEA O'KANE, OE
\
fox-tails, and a short jacket, or roundabout, as they sometimes were
called, the lower extremities of which did not reach his waist into
nearly a foot. The sleeves were also nearly six inches too short,
leaving a full display for a wrist and fist which Archie was pleased
to denominate as " Death's pestles." Like Joseph's coat, his was
also, either from choice or necessity, composed of many colors.
His pantaloons, which fitted his person closely, were made of buck
skin, and, like their fellow-garment, were "too short altogether."
Unlike most of the trappers, he did not wear moccasins ; but his
feet were protected by boots of the hugest and heaviest dimensions.
. On his arm lay a rifle of remarkable length and weight, and a pow
der-horn and pouch, together with a tomahawk and knife, found
lodgment around his waist.
So intent were the rebels on loosing the grasp of the dog from
the neck of O'Kane, that they did not observe the approach of
Archie. After exchanging glances with Wilson, as before stated,
he brought his rifle to' the ground, and stood leaning his chin upon
the muzzle, and quietly viewing the scene. The dog's grasp was
at length broken, and O'Kane, who was not materially injured,
arose from the ground, foaming with rage. The first object that
his eye met was the figure of the above-described. He 'stood for a
few moments like one thunderstruck, intently gazing at Archie.
The eyes of the whole assembly followed his, and all were equally
amazed. At length O'Kane found utterance, and he exclaimed, —
" Who the devil are you ? "
Archie gazed at him coolly for a few moments, and then replied,
in a remarkably heavy voice, — . ,
" What business is that of your'n, eh?"
O'Kane was for a few moments speechless again ; but at leno-th
he replied, —
"Don't be uncivil, sirrah, or I wUl have you arrested. These
are suspicious times."
" Wai," replied Archie, " then don't you be sarsy, or, d  n me,
I'll box your ears for you."
O'Kane saw that the imperturbable stranger was the wrono- man
to intimidate, and he changed his policy.
"My friend," said he, soothingly, "you know that suspicion is a
natural attendant upon such times as these, and you cannot blame
us for inquiring irito your business here at this particular time.
You may be friendly to us — "

THE DOOM OF THE EE:^EL GUAED. 23
"Don't call me your friend, you infernal scoundrel, or I'll cut,
you up in no time ! " interrupted the stranger. Then suddenly
starting, as if from a reverie, he approached WUson, exclaiming,
as he did so, —
"Marvin, my lad, this looks d — d suspicious. AYhy, your back
looks like a ragged steak ! I'm inclined to opinionate that some-
body'U make up for this biz'ness, or I'U eat an airthquake ! "
WhUe delivering himself of this apparent parenthesis, Archie
had unsheathed his knife and cut the cords that secured Wilson.
Faint from suffering and loss of blood, the young man sunk at the
foot of the tree the moment he was liberated ; and Archie immedi
ately dropped upon his knees by his side, and supported his head.
""Marvin, my boy," said he, " cheer up ; don't be discouraged at
this. It'U be the d — dest misforting that ever happened to O'Kane,
after all. You'U get over it presently. It aren't worth mindin'."
Raising his head, and gazing at O'Kane with an eye of fire, he
continued, " This is infarnal pretty biz'ness for human bein's, now,
ain't it, you infarnal pale-gizzard imp of the devil? It's a manly
thing, now, ain't it ? D— n me, I'll — "
He suddenly stopped speaking, and, opening his capacious mouth
to its utmost extension, he uttered a horrid yell, that caused the
whole rebel body to start and turn pale. In a moraent, a heavy
trampling was heard in the woods; and, shortly after, some thirty-
five armed men were in O'Kane's yard.
" Seize every one of the d — d heathen ! " shouted Archie ; " and
one of yon run for some water. We'll see how they like the re
verse of their noble warfare."
In a moment, O'Kane and his guests were seized, and some
dozen of the new comers were searching the premises for ropes
with which to secure them. These were quickly found ; and the
rebels were soon lying upon the grass, as securely bound as Wilson
had been a short time before. They made no resistance ; for they
saw it would be in vain. Indeed, from the very moment they dis
covered Archie, they appeared to be spell-bound — none having
offered to interfere while he was releasing Wilson, even O'Kane
himself remaining a passive spectator of the scene.
Archie soon succeeded in restoring Wilson to consciousness, and
immediately set about dressing his wounds, at which business he
appeared an adept. He appeared also to have every necessary

M COEA O'KANE, OE
material for this business close at hand, and in a short time he had
performed the operation to his satisfaction. Calling one of his
command to his side, he said, -^
" Go into the house aud get a shirt for the boy, and be quick
about it. Get the best one O'Kane has got."
The man soon retumed, and Archie completed his attentions to
the patient. Leaving him at the foot of the tree, he proceeded to
make other arrangements for the final disposition of his prisoners.

CHAPTER IV.
In obedience to the orders of Archie, O'Kane and his comp
ions were soon tied to the shade-trees of the yard, where they were
left by the Unionists to ponder upon the sudden change in their
fortunes, whilst they sought in the house for something to satisfy
their hunger, guided, in the mean time, by their taU leader. As
might be expected, the advent of the hungry crew into the sanctum
of Miss Rebecca raised all the ireful feelings which she possessed.
Through all the punishment of Wilson, and up to the sudden
change in the situation of her friends, Miss Rebecca had main
tained her post at the door, a witness of the whole. When, how
ever, Archie spoke to his comrades about eating at the expense of
O'Kane, she hastily retreated to her kitchen, and, arming herself
with a tea-pot, in order to show as much contempt as possible for
the Unionists, and to show them her independence of mind, she
awaited their approach as calmly as a thunder storm awaits its ap
pointed time. She was not compeUed to wait long. In a few
moments they came pouring in, headed by their tall leader, who
was compelled materially to lower his crest, in order to enter the
doorway. " O', you marauding devils! 'O, you villains that you are!"
cried Rebecca, directing her glaring eye towards the leader. " Eat
at O'Kane's expense, eh I — will you? ''
" Haw ! haw ! haw ! " roared the tall captain, throwino- himself
into a chair. " Get us something to eat, you vinegar-faced bel
dam. Don't you s'pose we're as hungry as your friends was? "
" Vinegar face, eh ! vinegar face ! you brute, you ! " cried Re
becca, trembling with rage. " Take that, you impertinent devU ! "

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 25
At the same time, suiting the action to the word, she hurled her
china tea-pot fair at the head of Archie, which conspicuous mark
if missed, and was dashed into a thousand fragments against the
wall. " Haw ! haw ! haw ! you old porcupine ! " continued Archie ;
"you're a ra'al bruiser! 'Pon my word, I should like to argufy
with you ; but I hain't got time."
Then, turning himself, towards a few of the black servants, who
were standing near, he exclairaed, " Bring forth sorae food instantly,
if you don't want to be eat up yourselves. No delay, now ! "
The servants hastUy prepared to obey his order ; and Miss Re
becca, whose rage had been somewhat calmed upon witnessing the
damolition of her china tea-pot, again commenced : —
" O ! if I was only a man, I'd warra your jacket for you, you
great — "
She was interrupted by another burst of Archie's hearty merri
ment ; and, without giving her time to conclude her sentence, that
worthy repUed, —
" If you was a man ! Haw ! haw ! haw ! That's funny. I
swow, you'd look worse than I do. 'Pon my word, I'm glad I've
come across you ; for your infernal old face has put me in a better
humor with, ray own. Haw ! haw ! "
The tables frora the yard had been brought in, and the servants
had arranged upon it the cold remnants of the rebel feast, and such
other eatables as offered themselves, which, being observed by
Archie, he cried, —
" Come, boys, the sun's getting low. Let's refresh, and do our
business ; for we've some ways to .travel yet to-night. Corp' Sraith,"
he cried, turning to an individual who stood near him, "take sorae
of the best you can find to Marvin. It raay do hira good."
The man proceeded to execute his comraission, and the reraainder
gathered around the tables. Rebecca stood watching their opera
tions for sorae time in sullen silence ; but at length she exclaimed, —
"I wish I had some ratsbane; 'pon my word, I'd- pizen all of
you — every one of you — and you in particular," said she, direct
ing her eye to the tall leader.
" Haw ! haw ! you old fool ! " shouted he, " do you think you
could pizen me with ratsbane ?' Why, I've eat a peck on't afore
now, to sweeten my stomach with ! "
4

26 COEA O'KANE, OE
A general roar from the company followed this announcement,
and Rebecca, seating herself in sUent despair of gaining the contest,
threw herself into a stiff attitude and remained sUent, whUst Archie
and his men concluded their meal. As soon as their repast was
over, they aU adjourned to the yard, to make a final disposition of
the prisoners. After gazing at them for a few moments, Archie,
signifying to his men that he wished for silence, thus delivered him
self to O'Kane, before whom he was standing : —
" O'Kane, I'm a Christian individewl, and I, in gin'ral, deal with
alljmy enemies in a Christian manner. My name is Archie Carter ;
and I'm a Union man, as the Lord very weU knows. If I had
anything like a commission from Old Abe, I'd shoot every devU of
ye in a Christian-like manner ; but you see I hain't got none y%t,
and I won't murder no way. You've disgraced human nature this
day a little the d — dest ! You've flogged a young fellow in a cruel
and onnatural way, 'cause he differed with you in opinion. Re
member, if I should ever meet you again with your cursed rebels,
— remember my Long Tom," at the same time extending his rifle
towards O'Kane.
Archie now prepared to march. A Utter was constructed of
some materials nearest at hand, for the purpose of transporting
Marvin WUson ; but, as he was about being placed upo^ it, Archie
espied a skiff at the extremity of the yard.
"Hold on!" he shouted. "Place Marvin in the skiff, and I'U
row it myself, while the rest of you take the shore path."
The new arrangement was acceded to, and in a few moments
Marvin Wilson was conveniently plaeed in the skiff, with his faithful
dogs beside him, and Archie prepared to manage the boat. The
company started on their way, going by the shore path, under the
command of Corporal Smith, whUe Archie shoved off the skiff,
leaving the rebels still bound to the trees. As the skiff was shov
ing off, Marvin faintly turned his head towards the windows of the
house, in order to catch a glimpse of Cora ; but she was nowhere
to be seen. With a sigh he reclined himself in the boat, and was
in a few moments beyond the scene of his late disaster.
When the strife between loyalty and treason was in its incipient
stage, Archie was found upon the Union side of the question, and
entered into the spirit of the Union movements with his whole soul.
As has been intimated to the reader, he was now on a raarch with

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 27
a company who had volunteered their services to " secure a license
to fight," as he termed a commission, and then to go wherever his
services were most needed. Those under his temporary command
Vi'ere nearly all young men from the vicinity of Osceola, and were
destined for headquarters, to offer their services to the cause of
Freedom. Accident had brought him to the neighborhood of
O'Kane's, and the result is known to the reader. He had long
known Marvin Wilson, as, indeed, did all the Unionists in that re
gion of country ; but Archie, in particular, for reasons which will
be developed to the reader as he proceeds in the narrative, regarded
him with warm and earnest affection.
As they proceeded down the river towards the young hunter's
residence, he detailed to Archie all the particulars of his encounter
with the rebels at O'Kane's. He had started early that morning
in pursuit of game, not caring which way his course should shape,
until at last his dogs aroused a noble buck, which started in the
direction of O'Kane's. For some distance he followed his dogs
with all the speed he could command ; but as they were soon lost
to his sight, he followed more leisurely, until he reached the house.
The reader is already acquainted with #the incidents that occurred
there. The sun was just setting when the skiff arrived at the cabin of
Wilson, and in a short time afterwards the men who had followed
the shore also arrived. After a brief consultation, they resolved
to rest for the night where they were, and be govemed by circum
stances as to their future march. The cabin of WUson could ac
commodate a part of them, and the balance could easily find lodging-
places in the surrounding forest, as the weather was warm, and
their limbs unused to the luxuries of feather beds and other like
conveniences. After helping themselves to refreshments from their
well-stored haversacks, they proceeded to search for convenient
resting-places ; and, soon after nightfall, all, save Archie, who
was in WUson's cabin, and one or two who were holding watch
outside, were in the arms of Morpheus.
Miss Rebecca watched the disappearance of Archie and his men ;
and after waiting for some time, lest they should return, she then
proceeded to call the female portion of her guests, who, from the
first moment of Wilson's punishment, had sought refuge in a cham
ber, where they had remained during the whole affray, to come to

28 COEA O'KANE, OE
her assistance in the task of freeing her friends. They timidly
obeyed the summons, and, marshalled by the valorous daime, and
armed with knives, proceeded to Uberate the sullen-looking band
who were tied to the trees in the yard. After they had all been
released, O'Kane, in the height of anger, swore eternal vengeance
on all Unionists, and especially upon Archie and Marvin WUson.
He then turned to Sergeant Hughes and his men, and proposed, as
they had a long distance to go, that they should stay untU morning,
which suggestion they concluded to acquiesce in.
The next morning, O'Kane began to make preparations for leav
ing horae, for the purpose of seeing what could be done about re
cruiting his guard. At sunrise, the sergeant and his men started
for the headquarters of General Price ; and as they rowed their
boat into the middle of the river, they concluded it was not expedi
ent to have the bonnie blue flag floating from its bow, thinking
that, under the circumstances, discretion was the better part of
valor. After O'Kane had made the necessary preparations for his
departure, he cautioned his servants to keep a good lookout, whUe
WUliam supplied them with a few rusty old muskets and a little
ammunition ; and Sambo, Jfan, and Thomas thought themselves men
of some consequence. Their horses were now brought to the door,
and O'Kane and WiUiam mounted, and rode at full speed to the
residence of McBride.
The sun was going down as they entered the avenue leadino- to
the house of McBride. As they rode up to the door, McBride
met them ; and when they had dismounted, he ordered a servant to
take charge of their horses, and bade O'Kane and his son to walk in.
He now caused a substantial supper to be prepared for them, to
which they did ample justice. Supper being flnished, they were
invited into his library. After they were seated, he related to them
the news of Frost's surrender, and that he had received an order
from Governor Jackson to gather as fast as possible the friends of
the Confederate cause in this section of the state, and that he had
despatched circulars to the Knights of the Golden Circle, notifying
them that their presence was required at Clinton.
" The day appointed for the meeting is to-morrow," said he •
" and I am very glad that you are here, colonel ; for you can ac
company me to CUnton. We intend to have the Circle meet early
in the raorning, and at ten o'clock in the forenoon we shaU have a

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 29
public meeting, the object of which is to induce the non-slavehold
ing whites t'o array themselves upon our side ; and you, O'Kane,
must be one of the speakers. You must dwell emphaticaUy on
that point which will naturally touch their hearts ; and that is, that
the old despot in the White House is now preparing to march his
minions into our state to destroy, ravish, and plunder the poor peo
ple, and that upon their banners is inscribed, ' Beauty and Booty.' "
Now that the programme had been made out for the foUowing
day, O'Kane and William interested McBride by relating to him
their adventure with Wilson and Archie, and conversed until a late
hour, when they all retired for the night. McBride, O'Kane, and
WUUam were on the road to Clinton as early as four .o'clock, and
arrived in time to transact all necessary business with the Circle.
At ten o'clock the people assembled, and it was as motley Jooking
an assemblage of men as ever congregated together. O'Kane's
eloquence had the desired effect, and after the meeting books were
opened for enlistments. We here leave O'Kane and his son for
the present, busily engaged obtaining names for his special guard.
When Cora O'Kane was led into the house after fainting in the
yard, she immediately sought the quiet of her own chamber, refus
ing the company of several who offered their services to her. Her
room was in the front part of the house, with one of the circular
windows overlooking the yard. Once or twice, as she heard the
shouts of her uncle's guests, she attempted to go to the window,
and see what could be discovered ; but ha; courage failed her. She
did, however, finally glance at the yard. What to make of the
appearance of the armed meri that she there saw, she was utterly at
a loss. She caught a view of Marvin Wilson, seated at the foot of
the tree ; and, not knowing what had previously taken place, she
came to the conclusion that the assertion of O'Kane in relation to
the plot in which Marvin was engaged was in retlity true ; yet her
prejudices in favor of Wilson soon banished such thoughts. She
retired from the window, and threw herself upon the bed. Here
she remained until the noise occasioned by the departure of the
guests again attracted her attention, and her curiosity got the better
of her determination. She again went to the window, and found
that her uncle's guests were departing. She concluded that nothing
serious had occurred ; and, feeling much easier under this conclu
sion, she again sought her couch.

30 COEA O'KANE, OH
She was not permitted to remain long in, quiet, for she soon heard
the voice of Miss Rebecca upon the staircase, requiring her presence
below. She obeyed the summons, and found her aunt in a terrible
rage at the singular and unexpected termination of the day's business
in general, but more particularly did she moum and fume over the
loss of her tea-pot. If Cora was in ignorance of most of the trans
actions of the afternoon when she left her chamber, she did not
long remain uninformed ; for the exceedingly supple tongue of her
aunt glided over the whole narrative with the speed of a locomo
tive, adding, besides a detaU of the facts, several slight and pointed
embellishments, for which the good dame was somewhat faraous.
Cora came in for a full share ofthe virago's vituperation, in connec
tion with the Union partisans ; and then, as if to inflict still more
(^eeply her vengeance, Rebecca dwelt with peculiar earnestness and
warmth of expression upon her detail of the punishment inflicted
upon WUson. She described the appearance of his mangled back
with great gusto, and wound up that part ofher history by express
ing a hearty wish that every Union man might meet with simUar
treatraent at the hands of the Confederates.
The narrative of Rebecca filled the mind of Cora with dread and
foreboding. She saw that a rupture had indeed commenced, and
what its fruits were likely to be was forcibly brought home to her
understanding. She loved Marvin Wilson. "She had not acquaint
ed him with the fact by a bona fide assertion, but she had for some
time admitted the fact in her communings with her own feelino-s. o
They- had met but a few tilnes, and then it was under circurastances
extremely unfavorable to a development of the affections, or for an
interchange of sentiment. But it needs not opportunity or advan
tages to hear and understand the language of the affections. A
look or a tone, a smile, or some little, almost unnoticeable, move
ment is eloquent, and reveals more than the most learned and elab
orate specimens of logic or eloquence could effect. After Miss
Rebecca had unburdened herself of her spleen, Cora was left ao-ain
to herself. She soon retired to her couch, to ponder upon what she
had learned, and eventually to dream of him in whose M'elfare she
now felt a deep concern.

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 31

CHAPTER V.
In the early raorning Archie and his men were astir, and, break
ing their fasts, they proceeded to hold a consultation as to what
their future operations should be. Marvin Wilson had passed a
sleejiless night, and was suffering more from the wounds upon his
back than he had the previous day. It became apparent to Archie
Carter, despite his encouraging addresses to his patient, that his
case was a critical one, and that he needed close attention and care.
He could not, therefore, think of quitting the couch of his young
friend ; and he consequently proposed that the men, with the excep
tion of two besides himself, should go to Clay's Settlement, and
await the final issue of Marvin's Ulness, before proceeding farther
on their intended journey.
" You know, boys," said he, in support of his plan, " it will never
do to leave Marvin in this situation ; for, setting the meanness of
the thing to one side, we can't very well spare him just at this time."
The men readily assented to this plan, and all, save two specified
by Carter, started, under the command of Corporal Smith, for
Clay's Settieraent, there to rendezvous until further deliberation.
Clay's Settlement was but a few miles below Wilson's cabin, and
• was situated upon Grand Creek, which is a tributary of the Osage.
It was quite a viUage, nurabering several hundred souls, raost of
whom were warm and ardent Union men. They were convinced
of the final event of the quarrel between the friends of the Union
and those who were attempting to destroy it, and feeling a determi
nation to be found ready when the storm should come, the men
buUt for themselves a fort. , They were sure of finding friends
and a rendezvous at this place ; nor were they disappointed in their
expectation. When they informed the inhabitant^ that they were
volunteers for the army of freedom, they were received with open
arms, and were soon comfortably quartered in the Settlement.
Archie Carter was unwearied in his attentions to Wilson. He
watched over him with an unusual tenderness, anticipated all his
wants, and was incessant in his application of the medical herbs
with which th'e forest abounded, and which his experience had
taught him were salutary. Under his treatment, in a few days
Wilson began to mend. They were supplied with provisions from

32 COEA O'KANE, OE
the river and forest by the two men who remained with Archie, and,
considering aU the circumstances, WUson's situation was not ex
tremely unpleasant. In about three weeks' time he had so far
recovered as to be able to undertake a day's hunting in company
with Archie, being tired and weary of his long confinemerit.
It was a bright and balmy morning upon which they set out upon
their excursion, and unthinkingly they shaped their course up the
river, in the direction of O'Kane's. They foUowed the banks of
the stream, and were already some four 'miles from their cabin ere
they thought of a halt. Marvin, now growing faint, sat down at
the foot of a tree, whUe Archie gazed attentively into the woods.
At that raoment he discovered a female coraing towards them. She
did not notice them until -she was almost upon them. She then
stood transfixed : she could not move a muscle, she was so fright
ened ; but when she discovered that one was Marvin, she became
more reconciled. Marvin, not dreaming that he shoiUd meet Cora,
and now that he had so unexpectedly, felt his whole frarae ^hriU
with ecstasy.
As the reader is already aware, he loved Cora. His opportuni
ties to converse with, or even see, her, were " few and far between."
He had often resolved to tell her of his passion ; yet up to the
present time he had not spoken to her upon the subject nearest to
his heart. The glance, however, which she gave hira in the yard
had caused him to form such a determination anew, should an op
portunity favorable for the task ever occur. Now that the time had
come, he resolved to unburden his mind. Archie knew fuU well
how dearly Marvin would prize a private interview with Cora ; and
he, unperceived by Cora, wandered into the forest, out of view.
Now that they were alone, Marvin' addressed her. They sat for an
hour or more, engaged in a desultory conversation, before Marvin
ventured to make his declaration. At length he said, —
" Cora, I make no disguise or preliminaries. I love you  have
loved you since I first saw you ; and, knowing all the unfavorable
circumstances by which I have been surrounded, here venture to
throw myself upon your generosity. Tell me, Cora, do I love
hopelessly ? "
Cora spoke not for a few moments ; yet it was evident to Marvin
who regarded her intently, that she labored under deep emotion.
At length, however, she replied, —

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 33
"Mr. WUson, I wUl not deny that you are — that I do regard
you with more than a common interest ; and I will not deny, that,
were circumstances ditferent with me from what they now are, I
could — "
Her tears impeded her utterance, and in a moment Marvin was
by her side.
" Pardon me, Cora I " he exclaimed ; " I have unthinkingly
wounded your feelings. I -should not have spoken to you upon
this subject at this time."
"It is not that, Mr. WUson," responded Cora. "If you only
knew the wretchedness of my situation at home, you would at once
comprehend aU."
Cora then proceeded to detail to Marvin the treatment she received
from her uncle and cousin, not concealing anything save the taunts
inflicted upon her for the sake of him. Marvin's eye kindled at the
tale, and he at once proposed that she should never more . enter her
uncle's door. ^
"I have but a poor house to offer you," he exclaimed, warmly;
" but we can go where there is a better. I am not exactly what I
seem ; that is, I am not compelled to follow the avocation of a
hunter for a Uvelihoojl. But consent to become mine now, and you
shaU be effectuaUy rid of your uncle's persecution."
" That would never do," replied Cora. " I am entirely in his
power untU I am eighteen, and then, according to my father's will,
I ara free to do as I choose."
"It's a long tirae yet ere that privUege arrives," said Marvin, in
a mournful tone, — "a long time, and, to my mind, freighted with
important and mighty events."
" It is not so long a tirae," replied Cora. " For the sake of the
prospects beyond, I can suffer till it rolls around."
They conversed for some time, and at last Cora proposed return
ing hom% She was in the act of shaking hands and bidding Marvin
good by, when she looked up and beheld William coming- towards
thera on horseback. He rode by them in silence, and Cora proceed
ed slowly towards the house. Archie, all this time, was lurking
around in the woods, when, hearing the sound of a horse's feet, and
thinking soraething Inight be up, he rushed for the place where he
left Marvin and Cora. Now that Cora had gone, Marvin and
Archie returned to the cabin.
5

34 COEA O'KANE, OE
After arriving at the cabin of WUson, Archie securely .moored
the skiff, and they retired within. It was here that Archie informed
Wilson of his determination of visiting Clly's Settleraent^n the
following day.
" There's no mistake," said he ; " the devil's to pay among the
rebels. That O'Kane affair must have made a noise. Here we've
been caged up these" three weeks and better, and hain't had a chance
to gain a morsel of intelligence."
" That's true," replied WUson. " It's high time' we knew some
thing of the movements of our enemies. So we'U even go to the
Settlement." The remainder of the day was spent by Wilson and his compan
ions in arranging for their intended journey on the morrow, and in
devising plans for their future operations. They retired" early to
their slumbers, intending to start for the Settlement with the dawn.
CHAPTER VI.
Colonel O'Kane remained in CUnton four days, and during that
time he had mustered into the Confederate gervice two hundred
men, that were to be designated as the Missouri Confederate Guard.
He had appointed his subordinate officers, and now they only wanted
arms and ammunition to be ready for service. WilUam had returned
home two days before his father left Clinton, and was on his way
there when he saw Cora and Marvin by the roadside ; but he said
nothing to her upon that subject when she had returned home a little
while after. He had concluded to say nothing about it untU his
father returned. When his father arrived, he told him what he had
seen. O'Kane's anger knew no bounds. He said to WUliam, —
"Cora must marry «you immediately; and as for that d — d cur,
Wilson, when my Guard arrives, under command of Lieutenant
Colonel Rice, we will rid the country of his presence. My orders
are to shoot every man who will not swear aUegiance to the Con
federate govemment. I expect my Guard to arrive 'here to-mor
row ; and you are appointed my adjutant."
O'Kane now left the room, and William was alone. He did not
like the plan of going into the field, or into any active service with
his father; for he was a consummate coward. StiU, as all the

THE DOOM OP THE- EEBEL GUAED. 35
young slaveholding aristocracy had enlisted, he could not very well
but follow suit.
O'Kane, on leaving' the presence of William, passed into his
library, staid there but a few moments, and then went directly to
Cora's room. She was sitting near the window when he entered,
and immediately arose and tendered him a chair.
" I do not wish to sit," was the reply to her proffered civility.
He paced the little chamber several times uneasily and rapidly,
and then, turning towards Cora, who, terrified at his singular be
havior, had resumed her seat, he said, —
" Cora, for the last time I ask you, will you consent to marry
WiUiam ? This night you must choose, and your decision is to be
final for this world. You had, therefore, better ponder upon it well.
Again I ask, wUl you have WiUiam for your husband ? "
"Uncle," replied Cora, trembling, — " c^ew. uncle, I cannot wed
him. Do not ask rae."
"Have you decided?" asked h^ uncle, in a voice of forced
calraness. "I have, dear uncle," said Cora, embracing his knees and looking
up into his face, whUe the -tears rolled down her cheeks. " I can
never marry him ; but I can and will be his friend. Let that sufiice."
" Away ! " cried O'Kane, fiercely ; " awa^ I you need never at
tempt to practise your female arts upon me. No endearing appel
lations, no tears, can drive rae frora ray purpose. Hear me again I
You either marry WUUara, or you die ! "
Cora sank upon the floor speechless at this announceraent. Her
uncle regarded not her situation, but, hearing no reply, he con
tinued, —
"Yes, yOu die I I swear I wUl not be balked by a silly girl.
Corae, rouse ! " he continued, pushing her with his foot at the same
time, "rouse up, and decide ! Do you still say no?"
Cora Jiad in some measure recovered from the shock which the
violent conduct of her uncle had caused her, and she was therefore
enabled to comprehend his feist question. She feebly answered,
" No," and O'Kane turned on his heel, and abruptly left the apart
ment, locking the door, and placing the key in his pocket. Cora
reraained lying upon the floor for nearly an hour, and then she
arose and sought her bed. She deeply regretted that sthe had not
taken the advice of Wilson, and left her uncle's roof forever. She

36 COEA O'KANE, OE
felt sure that the latter would take desperate steps to force her to a
compliance with his wishes. Then came the remembrance of his
threat. She knew that she was not prepared to die. She thought
of the secluded situation of her uncle's house — of how far she was
removed from any one who would choose or dare to help her, and
her heart sank within her. All the bright recollections of othpr
days came thronging upon her memory, and she wept in bitter
agony. All night long she was in tears ; but when the day dawned,
its blessed light cheered her, and she sank into a profound repose.
The sun was well pp when she awoke, and, fearing the anger of
her aunt, should she keep breakfast waiting, she arose hastUy, and
dressed herself with all expedition. She tried the door ; but it was
fastened, and the key gone. Finding all her endeavors to obtain
egress vain, the poor girl seated herself by the window, to await,
as she supposed, her flnal doom.
/ When O'Kane entered his library, he found there a courier from
Governor Jackson. This coi:^er was one of the most unrelenting
rebels iri Missouri. His name was Martin, and he had for many
years been a slave-dealer. There was nothing so raean that he
would not stoop to, to gain a penny. O'Kane, aware of this, after
the message was delivered from Jackson, comraenced the conversa
tion by asking Martin if he was as discreet as he had been. Martin
answered, that, so far as he knew, he was. O'Kane then said, —
"I have a little job for you, and will pay you weU for it. It is
this : I have a niece — the daughter of a deceased brother — resid
ing with me, and it was the desire of that brother that my son
should marry his daughter ; but she declares that she'll die rather
submit to it. Why she should have such an aversion to my son, I
cannot conceive, only she is herself strongly in favor of the old
Union, and is actually in love with one of the strongest Unionists
in this vicinity. As I am going into actual service, and my house
wUl not be guarded, those infernal Unionists migltt come ^nd steal
her away while I am gone. In order, therefore, to keep her within
my power, I want you to take her thts night and carry her to some
safe and secure place within the Confederate lines, and I wiU pay
you weU for your trouble, and, of course, aU necessary expenses
whUe she remains in your custody. If she dies, so much the better ;
but do not murder her, nor do her any harra."
" It is not necessary," said .Martin, " to carry her out of the

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 37
state. I know a good many places where I can secrete her, where
the devU himself can't find her ; and I have one particular place in
my mind now, where live an old uncle and aunt of mine. They
are both, the- very strongest of Secessionists. They live in Pine-
ville ; but it is a mighty smart distance from here, colonel. It is
down near Arkansas ; and the girl once there, I reckon she'U never
trouble you again."
" Then," said O'Kane, " if you are wilUng to go to-night, I will
make preparations for your departure at once."
" I had as lives go to-night as any time," said Martin. " The girl
will have to carry her traps with her ; for it is mighty hard getting
things down there."
" I wiU see to all that," said O'Kane. " You wiU remain here
until I retum. I wiU not be gone long."
As he was leaving the room, O'Kane said, —
" I suppose you will take your own horse."
" Of course," said Martin. ^
Here O'Kane left Martin, and went directly to WiUiam, and in
formed him of his plan, and told him to go and arouse his trusty
servant Sam, and have him harness Martin's horse into their light
wagon. He ordered him not to lisp a word of what was going on.
William was then to see his aunt Rebecca, informing her of his
intentions, and requesting her to go to Cora's wardrobe, and select
such clothing as she would need. He was also to help his aunt to
prepare some food for the journey.
O'Kane then returned to the library, and informed Martin that
his niece would be ready in a few moments. WiUiam now entered,
and said that he had obeyed his commands, and that everything was
ready. O'Kane immediately went up to, Cora's room, rapped, and
bade her rise, and open the door. Cora obeyed, and was in a short
time fully dressed. Her uncle then commanded her to follow him
down stairs, which she did, not, however, without fear and trem
bling. Arriving in the hall below, her uncle told her to go into the
reception-room, and await his coming.
No one can describe the feelings of Gora as she -vfras left there
alone ; but she was not left long to meditate, for soon in came
O'Kane, Martin, and Rebecca, the last named of whom brought
her traveUing bonnfet and other outside apparel, while her trimks
were left in the hall. O'Kane addressed Cora, and said, —

38 COEA O'KANE, OE
" Inasmuch, miss, as you will not acquiesce in my wish in regard
to marrying WiUiam, I am going to put you in charge of this friend
of mine, who wUl carry you to one of his' relatives. There you
will be shut out from the world untU such time as you are cured of
your obstinacy, and wUl comply with my wish. And here let me
warn you, as you love life, not to utter a sound as you leave these
premises." Turning to Rebecca, he said, —
"Assist the jade in dressing."
About one'clock Martin and his charge were on the road. Here
we leave Cora pursuing her journey. It was nearly two o'clock
before O'Kane retired to rest. He felt as though his raind was re
lieved of a great burden ; and yet he felt sad, for a moment, as he
thought of his conduct towards his niece. However, the thought
of the immense fortune that he would receive, if Cora should die
before she reached the age of eighteen, dazzled his eyes and crushed
his better feelings, and he became more reconciled ; for he felt sure
Cora could not escape from the clutches of Martin, and that he
could now have the assurance to write to Cora's bankers, and draw
on them, if it should be necessary, under the pretence that she was
dead. The next morning O'Kane's Guard artived, Lieutenant Colonel
Rice commanding. The rest of the day was spent in drUling, and
preparing to march for Warsaw in the morning. At sunrise the
drum beat for roll-call, which was quite amusing to the servants ;
but Rebecca was terribly frightened. She thought the Unionists
had come, led on by Archie. Her conscience smote her for her
actions towards Cora. She had seen some awful sights in her
dreams the night previous.
In a little while, the officers appeared for breakfast. Rations had
been prepared for the men, and distributed among them, and they
were soon on their way towards Warsaw. Nothing occurred on the
road worthy of particular notice. When O'Kane and his men
reached Warsaw, which they did by a circuitous route, comino- into
the town from the north, he called on some of the leadino- Seces
sionists who resided there, and, with their ]Jermission and assistance,
went to work laying out a camp of instruction, as if he would remain
there a few days. Thus he busied himself in drilling his men and
dividing them into squads — some to forage, others to reconnoitre.

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 39
Here he enUsted fifty more men ; and, the citizens providing tliem
with horses, they were to be attached to his guard as mounted
infantry.
CHAPTER VII.
When Marvin and Archie arrived at the Settieraent, they were
informed that General Lyon was at Jefferson City. Marvin pro
posed to Archie and the men to go on and join General Lyon's com
mand. This suggestion they heartily indorsed and agreed to. On
the march they concluded to keep off from the main roads as much
as possible, as they had but very little ammunition with them.
When they arrived at Jefferson City, General Lyon received them
cordiaUy, and proposed at once to organize them into a company,
as he could pass over enough other Missouri recruits to increase
their number to one hundred. This was done, and Marvin 'was
commissioned captain, arid Archie first Ueutenant.
For a few days, Marvin was busily engaged in drUling his men
and equipping them; . One afternoon an order came to him from
headquarters, stating that his company would b^ third in rank, —
which woul^ be, of course, the color company, — and was assigned
to the Twelfth Missouri Regiment, Colonel Cook coramanding. As
soon as the regiment was pi^pared for duty, they were ordered to
march in the direction qf Warsaw, and„.watch the movements of
Jackson, keeping a good lookout.
The little regiment marched undisturbed to Versailles. Here the
colonel concluded to halt, and go into camp, as the weather was ex
ceedingly warm. He reraained here two days, threw out his pickets,
arranged his camp guard, and sat down to rest. At nine o'clock
on the evening of the second day, the drum beat to quarters, and
aU was quiet save the tramp of the sentry to and fro on his beat, as
he kept the patient vigil of the night. At two o'clock, on the next
momiag, the pickets were driven in by the advance of an army of
rebels, as they said. The long roll was now beat, calling them to
arms, and the regiment formed a line of battle in front of the camp,
in as convenient a position as circumstances would admit.
The day before the foUowing scenes were enacted, one of O'Kane's
mounted infantry had discovered Colonel Cook's regiment in camp.
He imraediately wheeled, and reported to Colonel O'Kane, who

40 COEA O'KANE, OE
was approaching, that he had discovered some Union troops en
camped, and that they were not at a great distance from them.
O'Kane now reported to his subordinate officers what he had heard,
and, with their counsel, determined to give battle. He aroused his
men, who were bivo.uacked for the night, with the order to march
as quickly as possible. So rapid was the march of O'Kane's men,
that his mounted infantry drove in Cook's pickets as early as two
o'clock in the morning.
At sunrise, both commands formed in Une of battle, and in a
short time the fight commenced. It is impossible here to describe
or explain the intentions of the commanders, for after the first vol
ley it became a hand-to-hand conflict. The Unionists, overpowered
by the rebels, were forced to retreat, and each man was obUged to
take care of himself. Colonel Cook and Archie barely escaped
with their Uves, while, unfortunately, Captain WUson was taken
prisoner. O'Kane was so delighted at the result of the conflict, that his
exultation knew no bounds ; but his joy was suddenly turned to
sorrow when he learned that his son was among the slain. When
the prisoners that had been taken were arrayed before O'Kane, to
his great astonishraent and delight he discovered amoi^g them Mar
vin Wilson. Preparations were now made by O'Kane to bury the
dead and take care of the wounded. When this was done, they
marched back to Warsaw with their prisoners.

CHAPTER VIII.
When O'Kane and his men had arrived at Warsaw, the prisoners
were placed in a secure building, closely guarded, and his men went
into camp, soon after which the assembly call was beat, calUng the
officers to the colonel's headquarters. After the ofificers had assem
bled, O'Kane thus addressed them : —
" Gentlemen , permit me to compliment you for your bravery
in the fight. I have now called you for consultation in reo-ard to
the disposition of the prisoners we have taken."
It was agreed that they should be paroled, with the exception of
Captain Wilson. O'Kane would not consent to have Marvin pa
roled, but did not give his reasons to his brother officers. He

41
proposed that Wilson should be tried by court martial. The next
day the prisoners were drawn up before headquarters and paroled.
While this was going on, O'Kane ordered a squad of mounted men
to go back and pick up all the straggling Unionists they could find.
AU this time Marvin remained alone in ^prison, closely guarded by a
man whom he had known in the vicinity of Osceola, and from him
he learned that Gora was either dead, or had been removed from
this section of the country. 'The man said the general impression
was that she was dead. All night long, Marvin's mind tumed
towards Cora, and often would he solioquize, —
"If she is dead, what is the use of my living? I am in the
hands of O'Kane, and die I must ; but I will die like a soldier. I
should like to know what has become of Archie."
In this way he worried through the night. The next raorning,
the officers were again summoned to Colonel O'Kane's quarters, at
which it was decided to postpone the trial of Captain WUson four
days. After the order wa^ given by Colonel Cook, on the day of the
fight, that, as it was useless for them to hold out any longer, there
fore every raan must take care of himself, Archie, like an old vet
eran, at oflbe made preparations to look out for Number One ; and,
so well acquainted was he with that part of the country, that he was
not long in finding a hiding-place, where he felt perfectly secure
from the observation of the rebels. He remained concealed until
he felt sure that they had left the scene of action, and then slowly
and cautiously did Ue move towards the field, to see if he could find
the body of Captain Wilson, whom he supposed to be dead. The
last he saw of him, he was in aprecarious situation, fighting single-
handed with four stalwart rebels ; and he felt sure that Wilson must
have fallen. Finding nothing of his body, he moved sorrowfully
away. What to do next he did not know. As he stood meditat
ing, one of his own men, who had also been concealed in the neigh
borhood, came to him, ^nd told him that Captain WUson had been
taken prisoner ; and this man also informed Archie that he had
learned from the conversation of two rebels, who had passed his
place of concealment on horseback, that the name of the rebel com
mander was O'Kane.
Archie at once carae to the conclusion that it was all day with
Marvin unless he could contrive some way to get him out of
6

42 COEA O'KANE, OE
O'Kane's clutches. " But how is this to be done ? " said he to him
self. " Here I am all alone, and not in a very comfortable place
any how ; but," said he, stretching himself up to his fuU height,
" wherever there's a will, there's a way. The first thing I must do
is to find a good gun. This little sword is good enough in its
place ; but I reckon it ain't just the thing for this undertaking. I
let Corp' Smith have my old Long Tom. Blackberries and sugar !
If I only had it now ! I must stir about, and see what I can find."
After Archie had stood a few moments in meditation, he started
off in quest of a gun. While roaming over the field, thinking he
might perhaps find something that would answer his purpose, to his
utter astonishment and deUght he discovered among some debris on
the field " old Long Tom." As he extricated the gun from the
mass of rubbish partly concealing, it from view, he exclairaed, —
" Wai, this is curious enough ! Corp' Smith^ust be a goner.
Now for a sufficient supply of ammunition, and I'm all right."
After Archie found himself perfectly equipped, he started in the
direction of Warsaw. While plodding along, he discovered a negro
cabin a short distance ahead. Stepping a little farther into the
woods, and winding around, he cautiously approached the back side
of the cabin, where he stopped and listened. Satisfied 4hat no one
was there, he ventured around to the front, and, seeing the door
open, looked in. Observing no one but an old negress, he stepped
in, and asked when she was last in Warsaw.
" O, massa ! " replied the old woman, " a man is going to be tried
and hung there, and my old man is coraing home soon, and wUl tell
you all about it."
" What has this man done, that they are going to hang him ? "
asked Archie.
The old woman, looking Archie straight in the face, replied,
"These are bad times, massa. Nobody knows their friends."
" That's so," answered Archie ; " but I will be your friend ifyou
wUl teU me."
"Wai, massa, all I knows of it is what Jim Thompson, a colored
man that preaches to us, said. He told us that Massa Lincoln,
away up north, Was going to send an army down here to free us
poor people ; and that the army had come, and they have had
a fight, and this man was taken prisoner, and they ai-e going to
hang him ; and Jim said the curse of Almighty God would be upon

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. , 43
them if they did so. Jim told us to go home and pray for him,
and do all in our power for hira."
"Wai," said Archie, " wiU you do it? "
" Golly, massa I I reckon I will."
"Wai," continued Archie, "I am that man's friend. I have
come to help him, and shall try to rescue him from the hands of
the rebels ; and I want to find a place where I can remain in safety,
to make preparations. Do you understand me?"
" O golly, massa ! I think I can look through the whole of it.
Come along with me, and I will show you a place where you will
be safe."
The old woman led Archie into the woodi([||tond showed him the
place where he was to take up his abode wr a while. It was a
cabin made by the uprooting of a large southern oak, and around
it grew groups of little trees aa thick as chaparral. A person
would have to be weU acquainted with the locality, to find the path
leading to the cabin.
" You can remain here," said the old woman, " and I wiU bring
you your meals. My old raan wUl be horae soon, and I wiU send
him to you."
Archie felt happy, that, so far, 'he had succeeded so well. The
old woman retumed to her cabin, and found there the old man. She
told him that a man had been there, and was now in the oak cabin.
" Golly, Pompey ! " continued she, " you think yourself big ; but
J'OU are no size to dat man. He's come to help de man dat's in
prison." " Wai,'' said Pompey, " J-'U go and see him right off. I see Jim
Thompson to-day, and he said he'd been praying for the poor man
aU night."
The old man immediately went and saw Archie. When Pompey
beheld his large figure, it raade him stare. Archie informed him
of his intention to rescue the man who was going to be hung, and
said he wished Pompey's help. j
" I can't help you much myself," said the latter ; " but I'll go and
see Jim Thompson right away, and have him come here this blessed
night. He's the man that can help you."
Marvin remained for three days quietly and closely guarded. His
room was large and well lighted, and the only privilege he had was
to look out of the window, which was securely barred. Th6

44 ^ COEA O'KANE, OE
exercise which was allowed was in walking slowly up and down his
room in constant meditation, and often would the joyous scenes of
his boyhood pass in review before him. How melancholy did he
feel when he saw all the inspiring anticipations of the future
crushed forever, and himself cut down before he had reached the
meridian of Ufe ! and yet more than once he detected himself plan
ning some method of escape, or wondering if Archie was yet alive,
\and would not attempt his rescue.
In fact, he could not think of dying without a shudder ; yet he
had a clear conscience, and when he retired to rest his sleep was as
sweet as childhood's. He knew that he was not confined for com
mitting a brutal crim^ but simply for defending his country, and
devoting himself to the preservation of its institutions and liberties.
As he was slowly pacing his room up and down, the officer of the
guard entered, and said that the tirae of his trial would be on the
morrow, at nine o'clock in the forenoon, and he must be prepared
for it. Marvin bowed assent to the officer, who then left the room.
The next moming Marvin arose with the sun. It was a beauti-
ful morning, although there was every indication of a sultry day.
At a quarter before nine o'clock, the officer again entered the room,
and informed Marvin that the time had arrived for him to march to
headquarters for trial. Marvin then advanced towards the door,
where he was commanded to step between the files of soldiers and
march. The headquarters were situated at the hotel, some little
distance from the house where he had been confined. As he
marched along, the people pressed forward, eager to catch a glimpse
of the prisoner; and among the crowd he observed one shining
black face gazikg upon him that gave him a thrUl of hope.
When he reached the hotel, the people had surrounded the house,
demanding admission ; but this was objected to by Colonel O'Kane.
Only a few of the more influential rebels were admitted. The main
street was crowded with people, as never before had the town been
so excited. The pent-up bitterness of the rebel heart was poured
out in vehement curses upon the head of the prisoner. If there
had been a man in the crowd around him that sympathized with
hira, it would havfe been, madness and certain death to have given
utterance to his feelings.
Some of O'Kane's soldiers were loitering about, and laughing
over the success of their first fight,. whUe others cursed WUson, and

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 45
exulted in his capture, and longed to see him die ; and one that had
a brother killed in the battle was heard to say that he wished the
colonel would give him the privilege of disposing of him ; he would
tear out his heart, and the cracking of his bones would be music to
his ears. When he had ended this speech, the coarse laugh of the
soldiery might be heard at some distance, which told too well that
they were all the slaves of sordid minds.
Marvin was marched into the room where sat O'Kane as the
president of the court martial, with his clerk seated by his side.
IMarvin was ordered by the guard to be seated. For a few moments
silence reigned. The clerk then ordered Marvin to rise, while he
read the charges that were preferred against him.
" You, Marvin Wilson, are indicted on the following charges :
First, when a member of the legislature, you refused to vote for
the MUitary League Bill. Second, for opposing, and enticing others
to oppose, the Confederate govemment. Third, for giving aid to
the enemies of the state. Fourth, when war was upon us, you
enlisted under the flag of our enemies, and were taken with arms in
your hands."
" Guilty, or not guilty ? " asked the clerk.
WhUe the clerk was reading the charges preferred against hira,
Marvin stood gazing vacantly over the room ; and, now that a di
rect question was put to him, he answered, —
" GuUty, if that be guilt."
The room was now cleared of spectators, and the prisoner taken
back to confinement, while O'Kane and his officers remained to de
liberate upon his fate. In about an hour Marvin was again sent
for, and was once more removed to the hotel to receive his doom.
It was filled with individuals anxious to hear the final determination
of the inquisition. Marvin was marched in front of his judge, and
the clerk proceeded to pronounce his sentence. It was death upon
the scaffold. Two days were given to him to prepare for eternity.
Marvin was asked if he had anything to say. He arose, and, turn
ing to O'Kane, said, —
" Some in war are fortunate, others unfortunate ; and I belong
to the latter class. You may assume the authority to deprive me
of life, but my soul wUl fly to the God who gave it. O'Kane,
remember that there is a supremely just and righteous God, and,
eooner or later, we shall both be summoned to appear before his

46 COEA O'KANE, Oft
judgment-seat. Then will you have to answer for this infamous
deed that you are about to commit. This is all I have to say."
jMarvin was removed to his old quarters, and the crowd within
and around the tavera disappeared. O'Kane returned to his private
room, but not, however, without feeling a sort of undefined symp
tom of uneasiness.
It was almost nine o'clock in tlie, evening when Pompey made his
promise good by bringing Jim Thompson to the white oak cabin
where Archie was. The moon was shining so brightly that they
could see each other while conversing. Archie inquired of Thomp
son if he was a friend to the man who was condemned to die.
He replied, "I am, and this blessed day the soldiers took him
out of Massa Robinson's house, where he has been shut up and
guarded by soldiers, and brought him to old Mason's hotel to have
his trial ; and he is to be hung day after to-morrow, and I pray to
God Almighty for help to set him free."
" Then," said Archie, " I want you to go with me this very night
to Warsaw. I want to get as near Clay's Settlement as I can by
daylight." This Thompson agreed to do. In a little whUe after, Archie had
cautiously passed the town. The next day, at nightfall, he reached
the Settlement, and at once proceeded to arouse the settlers. Some
thirty of them volunteered their services when Archie announced
that the life of Captain Wilson was in danger, and that his person
was in custody ofthe rebels. The settlers hastened to supply them
selves wilji ammunition, and within an hour after the arrival of
Archie they were prepared to march.
Archie and the settlers pushed on towards Warsaw with alacrity.
The anxiety of Archie was so great for the fate of his friend, that
he was constantly a few rods in advance of his comrades. They
made such diligent use of their limbs, that just at night on the day
after WUson had been sentenced they came to a halt in a dark and
almost impenetrable ravine, about half a mile below the summit of
the little hill upon which the gaUows was erected. The next morn
ing after Marvin received his sentence, he awpke from a refreshino-
sleep, infinitely better in health and spirits. Grief soon subsides,
and the higher its flow, the sooner it ebbs. Marvin began to com
prehend his situation ; he thought over the scenes of the day before,
and when he remembered that he was doomed to die on the morrow,

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 47
his feeUngs experienced a shock that even the sentence of O'Kane
had faUed to give them. All this argued the return of a healthy
state of raind as well as body.
Whfen the guard again presented himself, Marvin preferred a
request for writing materials, saying that he wished, in a measure,
to arrange his business before he made his final exit from the stage
of ¦ action ;• but this favor was refused, and he was left alone. In
the afternoon, he was visited by the minister who officiated as chap
lain of O'Kane's Guard, who came to administer to the prisoner
the spiritual comforts of the gospel. The worthy individual talked
for a long tirae upon the horror of treason to the state, and the un
pardonable sin of rebeUion against the government of the Lord's
anointed. Matters assuraed to Marvin a more serious aspect than
they had seemed to wear. When the minister announced his er
rand, it appeared to bring death and himself into frightful proxim
ity. There was something inexpressibly chUling to his feelings in
coldly setting about making preparations for his final departure.
He knew that preparation for so important an event was highly
necessary, but, despite all his efforts, he could not bring his mind
to think calmly upon the subject. The worthy divine left him, ex
pressing his fears that his latter end would be worse than the first.
O'Kane rose early next moming, and began making prepara
tions for the execution, which was appointed to take place early in
the evening, just after the setting of the sun. How he came to
designate this unusual hour as the time for the unhallowed sacrifice
he intended to make he could not tell ; yet he could not bring him
self to perpetrate the diabolical deed with God's fair sun a witness
to the transaction. He " loved darkness rather than light," and it
was, undoubtedly, because his "deeds were evU."
The spot selected for the execution was just outside the compact
portion of the vUlage, on the side of a little hill which gently rose
from the bank of a small streamlet. A rough, ill-constructed
gaUows was declaredto be in a state of readiness a little past noon.
An hour before the setting of the sun, one of the guard entered the
room, and bade him prepare to march immediately to the place of
execution. Marvin obeyed ; and, when he emerged-from the house,
tFe armed rebels filed into a square, leaving him in the centre, and,
led by O'Kane, bent their steps slowly to the little hUl upon- which
the gallows was erected. A large concourse had collected here,

48 COEA o'kane, OB
to witness the approach of the condemned. A passage was cleared
by the Guards on the arrival of the prisoner, and in a short time
after he was seated on the gaUows. The settlers were sent out
upon the afternoon of the execution, and mingled with the 'crowd.
When the cavalcade started for the gaUows, they cautiously de
tached themselves from the multitude, and again sought their com
rades. No time was to be lost, — -a moment might thwart their
intentions, — and Archie formed his men in order, and marched
from the ravine towards the little hUl. Just as Marvin raounted
the scaffold, they came in view of the machine of death, and halted,
in such a position as would, in aU probabUity, owing to the intense
interest in the execution, shelter them from observation. After his
men were covered, Archie marched boldly up to the crowd, pushed
his way through the Guard, and, mounting the steps, stood the next
raoment upon the scaffold, in front of O'Kane. Marvin uttered an
exclamation of surprise ; but, if an apparition frora the world of
spirits had stared him fuU in the face, O'Kane could not have been
more completely thunderstruck. Many of the rebels weU knew
Archie Carter, — some of them to their cost, — and a suppressed
whieper of his name soon ran round the crowd. The rebels looked
fierce, and awaited orders from O'Kane ; while- a gleara of satisfac
tion was plainly to be seen upon the countenances of the Unionists,
who crowded as near to the scaffold as they possibly could.
"What are you going to do, reprobate?" said Archie, bringing
his heavy rifle down upon the scaffold vnth a force that caused
•O'Kane to start and turn pale. " What do you mean to do? Have
you forgotten Archie Carter so soon ? ''
" I have not forgotten you, as you will find to your cost," said
O'Kane, after he had in a raeasure recovered frora the shock he had
.received from the unlooked-for presence of Archie. "At present we
are going to adminster justice to a condemned criminal, and after
that we wUl attend to your case."
"You administer justice!" cried Archie, furiously, shakino- his
huge fist in O'Kane's face. " You talk about justice, you skimmino-s
of the devil's wickedness ! D — n me if I hain't a raind to strino-
you upon this very frame, you miserable devil that you are."
A loud shout from the Unionists in the crowd attested their satis
faction at seeing the haughty O'Kane bearded in the presence of his
vminions. O'Kane was enraged beyond bounds, and shouted, —

the DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 49
" Seize the viUain I "
" So I will," interrupted Archie, at the same time depositing his
rifle on the scaffold, and seizing O'Kane by the throat. " So I wUl
seize the vUlain ; for may I be cussed if you ain't the man, if they 's
any such a one present." At the same time, Archie inflicted several
severe blows upon his face ; then taking him with one hand by the
leg, with the other remaining upon his throat, he threw him from
the scaffold into the crowd below. Drawing his knife from his belt,
he cut the cords which bound Marvin, and handing him the weapon,
he said, —
" Defend yourself, ray lad ; d — n me, but we'll expalify the whole
bUm' on 'era ! "
Seeing their leader assaulted in this unceremonious manner, sev
eral of the rebel Guard rushed towards the scaffold. But they were
intercepted by a Uttle knot of Unionists, who had taken post imme
diately in front of it. A warm scuffle here ensued ; but the Union
ists, being few in number, were compelled to give way, and about
a dozen rushed up the steps to secure Archie Cariter. The frail
platforra could not sustain the accumulated weight of aU, and with
a loud crash it came to the ground. A moraent afterwards, Archie
uttered a loud yeU, and the settlers came pouring down the hill from
the ambush.
" Come on ! " shouted Archie, as he saw his men issue from the
forest. " Come on, ray lads, the victory is ours ! "
The women and children in the crowd ran screaming in all direc
tions. The unarmed Unionists, uttering a shout, scattered also, to
arm themselves as best they might ; and altogether the scene was
one of confusion.
" Fire upon the pirates ! " shouted O'Kane, who had regained his
feet, and was in a terrible rage. A part of his Guard instantly
formed, and discharged a volley at the Unionists, two of whom fell
to rise no more.
" Pepper 'em ! d — n 'em ; pepper 'em ! " shouted Archie, in a tow
ering passion.
The Unionists obeyed, and in an instant a sharp volley was dis
charged at their opponents, who, seeing several in their ranks sink
to the earth, turned and fled in the directioij of the viUage, pursued
by Archie and his men a short distance.
In the moming, the bodies of those killed in the affray were
7

50 COEA 4)'KANE, OB
decently interred ; and the men, accompanied by Captain WUson
and Archie, departed on their retum to Clay's Settlement. When
they arrived there. Captain WUson received the congratulations of
aU on his providential escape.

CHAPTER IX.
As Martin drove swiftly away, Cora well knew that it would be
useless for her to attempt a struggle, or raise an alarm, and she re
signed herself to her melancholy situation, and bitter thoughts filled
her mind. Martin urged his horse to the utmost speed. What was
to be her fate she could not conjecture ; she knew very weU that her
uncle meant her destruction by what he said in the haU. It seemed
to her that she was sitting by the side of her murderer ; for, when
he was introduced to her, she carae to the conclusion that he was a
ruffian, hired to transport her to some convenient and isolated place,
and there despatch her. At all events, she knew, even if that was
the case, she was completely in his power ; and she felt, in her ia-
most heart, that an appeal to his mercy would avail her ncfthing.
Just as the day dawned they arrived at a small cabin a Uttle way
from the road. Here Martin halted in front of the door. He
jumped out and tied his horse, then assisted Cora to aUght, and
ushered her into a narrow, dirty room. By his actions he appeared
to be on famiUar terms with the inmates of the cabin, and perfectly
at ease. He instructed them to prepare breakfast, while he went
out to give some provender to his horse ; and here he discovered a
basket of provisions, which he brought into the house. He then
opened it, and put part of it upon the table, to help make out the
meal. Breakfast being now ready, they sat down and partook of it
in silence. After Martin had refreshed himself, he stepped out and
gave his horse some water, and at the same time put his provisions
into the wagon. He then stepped back to the door, and told Cora
that he was ready. Helping her into the wagon, he drove leisurely
along. For over two miles they rode without speakino-. Then
Martin broke silence, and said, " I am not going to murder you, nor
insult your person ; but, if you wUl keep your tongue to yourself,
say not a word, it will be much better for you. To-nio-ht we will
have to stop at a tavern, and I wiU provide a good room for you."

THE DOOM OP TIIE EEBEL GUAED. 51
As they rode along, the heat of the sun became intense, and very
oppressive to Cora. Martin, seeing this, stopped his horse, alighted
from the wagon, and cut some green boughs that grew by the road
side, and placed them in such a manner as to shield Cora from the
oppressive heat of the sun. The sun was nearly down when they
reached the tavem. As Martin drove up to the door, a man came
out, and said, —
" Well, Martin, how are you? What news up your way ? "
" The war has come ; and they are fighting right smart, I reckon,"
replied Martin.
By this time he had jumped out of the wagon, and handed out
Cora. "Pinkey, show this girl into the house, and have the old woman
get us some supper, while I unhitch the horse."
The man ushered Cora into the house ; and a poor apology for a
tavern it was too. As soon as Cora had taken off her bonnet and
outside garments, she inquired of the woman if she could have
some water carried to her room, so that she might cleanse herself, as
she was hot, tired, and dusty. The woman replied in the affirma
tive. Martin now entered, and said, —
"Pretty red day, Pinkey."
" I reckon," said Pinkey.
Supper being now ready, Cora and Martin sat down to their meal
of pork, hoe-cake, and honey. After Cora had eaten, she went
directly to her room. The roora which she was to occupy was
partitioned off from the main one, with rough cypress boards. As
Cora closed the door, the woman said to Martin, —
" Right smart girl that."
" Yes," said Martin, " but born for heaps of bad luck, I reckon."
After Cora had overheard the remark of Martin, she concluded
to keep awake, in the hope of hearing something in regard to her
destination ; but at length she' felt a drowsiness creeping upon her.
Despite her exertions to keep awake, she dropped her head upon
her pUlow, and fell asleep ; and in the dreams of home she forgot
the vvretchedness of her situation. She slept until she was aroused
by the woman in the raorning. As soon as breakfast was de
spatched, Martin and Cora were upon the road. About noon they
arrived at a small house, where they took dinner, and immediately
resumed their jouraey. So adroit was Martin in the management

52 COEA O'KANE, OE

I

of affairs, that Cora found it utterly impossible to speak to any one
at the last stopping-place, and she proceeded on her way with a
heavy heart. Martin pursued the remainder of the journey with
the utmost speed, barely stopping for refreshments. On the even
ing of the third day after leaving Osceola, Cora was securely located
imder the roof of Martin's relatives. On the day after her arrival,
she was visited in her room by Martin's aunt, a rough-looking woman,
bearing in her arms a coarse cotton home-made dress, which the
old woman commanded her to put on, in place of the one she then
wore. She was forced to comply, and the woman left her to pursue
her own amusement, if such could be found. All hope had entirely
deserted Cora. She could not even bring herself to view her truly
deplorable situation with anything like patience or resignation. Shut
out entirely from the world, destitute of a companion, or even a
book, she was corapelled to pass away the tedious hours in perfect
idleness ; the most irksome situation that can well be imagined for
one so young, and naturally of so lively a disposition, as Cora.
All this time Cora's health was good; yet she sometimes prayed
for death, and often did she exclaim to herself, "I cannot endure
this torment much longer." Then she would think of Marvin, and
her heart would throb with the hope that she would be released, and
have the sweet pleasure of seeing him again.
One afternoon, as Cora was sitting in Ker lonely room, a stranger
entered the cabin, and commenced conversation with the old woman.
He conversed in such loud tones as to be overheard by Cora, who
crept to the door of her room to hear more distinctly. In his con
versation with the old woman, he told her that the Union troops
were driving the Confederates right before them ; "and it won't be
long before they will be here," he added.
" Sakes alive ! " replied the old woman, " what shall we do then ? "
" Wai," said the man, "we must get over into Arkansas, or re
main and take the consequences."
Cora was glad to learn that the Union army was approachino-,
and thought it might joossibly be the means of her release ; but
finding the conversation had no allusion to her, returned to her seat.
After Marvin had been released from his perilous situation by
Archie and the band of settlers, the reader remembers that he ac
companied Archie and the settlers to Clay's Settieraent. Marvin
arid Archie both concluded that it was their duty to join the Federal

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUARD. 53
army, which was then at Rolla, as soon as possible, which they did
by marching through pathless forests. On the 26th of July,
General Fremont arrived at St. Louis as Military Commander
of Missouri and its adjacent territory. He found the army in
depressed spirits. Many of the regiment's time of service had
nearly expired. On the other hand, the rebels were in high glee,
as they felt that Missouri would rise up and rally around the Con
federate standard. The rebel commanders had ordered guerilla
bands to be organized, to operate with vigor, night and day, untU
they had rid the state of every Union man ; and vigorously did they
carry on their hellish work. General Fremont saw that something
must be done to stop this cruel mode of warfare, and he organized
companies for this especial service, consisting of one hundred men
each. They were to be mounted infantry, and act independently of
the rest of the army. Of one of these companies Marvin WUson
received the command, and Archie Carter was made second in
command. On the 1st day of August, this company marched from Rolla to
Lebanon. At sundown they halted in front of a little cabin, where
an old man came out, supposing them to be rebels, and told them
that O'Kane, with four or five hundred rebels, was in the vicinity
of Osceola. The company here bivouacked for the night. Next
morning, Captain WUson called his men by sunrise. They soon
prepared a hasty breakfast, and were on the road towards Clay's
Settlement. When Marvin and his men had reached the river, they
discovered a skiff drawn up on the shore.
"Look here, Marvin," said Archie; "here's O'Kane's skiff. I
wonder if he's round these diggin's. I rather think we had better
keep our eyes peeled."
Captain Wilson now ordered two men to ride down the river, to
see if they could ascertain anything of the movements of O'Kane..
They shortly returned and reported that all was quiet. Archie
suggested to Marvin that Second Lieutenant Rollins should take
charge of the men, and march them to Clay's Settlement, keeping.
back from the river as far as possible, whUe they should take the
skiff and go by water. This Marvin assented to. In a few min
utes. Lieutenant Rollins, with the company, marched. Marvin
and Archie were soon on their way down the river.. It was a glo
rious raorning. The birds sang sweetly from the deep, rich foliage

54 COEA o'kane, OB
of the forest ; the air was filled with the perfumes of a hundred
different wild flowers ; and stretching far away before them was a
bright line of water, as smooth and unruffled as the sky above thera.
Archie labored at the oars, while Marvin sat at the stern ofthe little
boat, drinking in the matchless beauty of the scene, and thinking
of Cora O'Kane. Even Archie himself was sensibly touched by
the splendid view about him. He rolled his eyes from side to side,
gazing up at the tall trees on either hand with lips parted and nosr
trUs extended ; and more than once he ceased dipping his oars, as
some new picture in the fairy prospect presented itself to his vision.
He finally addressed Marvin in relation to the scenery around him.
"I tell you, Marvin, that this ia a vast airth. Now, some folks
pretend to say that woman is the greatest feat of God's workman
ship ; but, Marvin, it ain't so, no way. If there is any best to the
Lord's craft, it's this airth that we live on. I've seen a good deal
on't, Marvin, and I know it's great! "
"It is indeed a beautiful world," replied Marvin.
" Bootiful ! " exclaimed Archie, with a strong expi-ession of con
tempt upon his homely features. " Go way with your gal talk,
man. I say it ain't bootiful : it's vast, it's mighty, it's big ! It's
made so a purpose, too. It shows that there's some one in exist
ence that's got a mightier arm than Jeff t)avis — some Spirit that
even the haughty slave master must obey."
" That's true enough," said Marvin.
" True as Genesis," repeated Archie ; " and I'll be cussed if I'd
be a rebel just on that account."
" Why so ? " inquired Marvin.
" 'Cause it's blasphemy : no — a idolatry, I mean," said Archie.
" I argy that no man can worship a human bein', as these men,
called rebels, worship the slave-owners, without being idolatrous.
D — n 'era, they ought to be sent to the missionary society, to o-et
civilized ! "
Archie continued to draw sage conclusions and arguments from
almost everything that attracted his attention, and the consequence
was, that the voyage proceeded but slowly. Once or twice Marvin
ventured to hint that they should arrive late at their place of desti
nation ; but Archie paid no manner of attention to him, barely
remarking, at one time, that he was determined to argue his point
out, if the devU forbade him.

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 55
About ten o'clock they reached a place where the river assumed
a lake-like form, shooting for some distance into the green forest on
either side. Rowing to the shore on the southern side, Archie an
nounced his intention of halting long enough to partake ofhis
luncheon. As they had breakfasted early, Marvin was in no way
disinclined to join him in this operation ; and they both accordingly
went ashore. As Archie was proceeding to unroll his rations from
the cloth in which they were enveloped, a sound in the forest caught
his ear, and he ceased from his occupation. He Ustened intently
for some tirae, and then, rising upon his feet, he turned to Marvin,
and said, —
"I guess we mought as well drag the skiff into the bay here, and
throw a Uttle brush over it, and then hide."
" Why so ? " inquired Marvin, who had Ukewise assuraed a Stand
ing posture.
" You'U see, I guess," said Archie, stooping to deposit his pro
visions upon the ground, and then going towards the skiff. " Come,
let's be Uvely."
Marvin proceeded to assist him in hauling up the skiff; but, ere
they had accompUshed their task, a loud laugh in the forest caused
them both to desist.
" We must let the skiff go, and look out for ourselves," said Ar
chie, gazing around him in all directions for a place in which to
secrete himself. Just across the arm of the river was a large pile
of dried brush, which caught the eye of Archie, and he exclaimed,
" Corae, Marvin, it'll wet your breeches, but it can't be helped. We
must go to that brush-heap."
Without further ado, Archie, holding his rifle in one hand and
his provisions in the other, dashed into the stream, followed by
Marvin. The vrater was but about three feet deep, and some eighty
or one hundred feet broad ; and they soon reached the opposite
shore in safety, and then concealed themselves beneath the heap of
brush. They soon heard the trampling of many men in the woods,
and in a few minutes some thirty or forty whites, and nearly as
many Indians, came into view a few rods to the east of where the
skiff was lying. Here they all halted, seeming to entertain a sim
ilar opinion with Archie in regard to eating; for they immediately
seated themselves upon the ground, and began to overhaul their
stores, as if to supply the wants of nature. This band appeared to

56 COEA O'KANE, OK
be under the command of a heavily-moulded man, who issued his
orders to his men in a short, peremptory tone, and who sat apart,
whUe partaldng of food, in gloomy sUence. The Indian warriors
were headed by a heavy-featured half-breed, in whose eye the glance
of a hundred devils seemed concentrated.
There appeared to be but Uttle discipUne among either whites
or savages ; for their merriment and conversation were loud and
boisterous, and received no check from their taciturn leader. Aiiter
their repast was concluded, sorae of the soldiers proceeded to stray
about the forest, in the immediate vicinity of their halting-ground,
while others stretched themselves on the ground, with their heads
placed upon their knapsacks, seeming determined to rest whUe aU
things were propitious. Some six or eight of the stroUers wan
dered* in the direction of the arm or bay before mentioned ; and one
of them, espying the skiff, gave vent to an ejaculation which at
tracted the attention of his comrades to the same object. They
were soon gathered in a group upon the shore, speculating upon the
probable means by which the skiff came in that place, and giving
utterance to various conjectures as to who its occupants had been,
when one who had lagged behind his comrades came .up, and, seeing
the skiff, exclaimed, -^
" I know that boat ! That's O'Kane's boat. I could swear to
it in any place ! "
" How the devU came O'Kane's boat here ? " asked two or three
at once.
" Probably they are hunting in the forest hereabouts," repUed the
individual who had spoken first.
" They ha-ve hauled up the skiff here, to remain untU they are
ready to retum."
" What track is this ? " cried another, stooping down and viewino-
the soft earth near the shore.
" It's the print of a stone-boat, you fool ! " answered a comrade.
" What the devil would a stone-boat do here ? " asked the stoop
ing person.
" Eternity I what a foot I " exclaimed another ; ' and in a few mo
ments the whole group were viewing the print of Archie's trusty boot.
" The man that carries that foot can walk on the water," cried
one of the men.
" How the devU can he get through the woods ? " inquired another.

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 57
A loud laugh at this interrogatory issued frora a dozen mouths ;
and then, as if satisfied with the observations that had been raade,
the knot separated and rejoined their comrades. They were soon
again under arms ; and, after a brief surv'cy of the lines, the taci
turn leader gave forth the order to march, and the whole band
started off in the direction of Clay's Settlement.
IMarvin and Archie continued in their hiding-place for a full half
hour after they had departed, before they emerged. Archie was thfe
first to crawl from beneath the brush ; when, stretching himself to
his full height, and yawning once or twice, he again seated himself
upon the ground, and pooUy proceeded to unroll his provisions.
After he had displayed his food upon the ground "in a manner that
suited his fancy, he turned to Marvin, and said, —
" Some of them chaps was determined to be merry at the expense
of my foot — warn't they, Marvin, eh?"
Without giving Marvin time to reply to this question, he con
tinued, —
" He thort it was the print of a stone-boat ; haw ! haw ! haw !
D — n me, but he'd thijik 'twas the butt eend of death, if it should
ever get foul of the hind part of his trousers."
"You have a little pride, I see, Archie, as weU as the rest ofthe
world," responded Marvin, laughing.
" Pride ! " said Archie, his cheeks distorted with cold venison , at
the same time glancing complacently at his foot, which was lying
carelessly upon the ground, "Pride ! I hain't got a bit ; but then,
captain, it's d — d onginerous to ridicule a man's parson, when he's
jest as the Lord made him."
" True ; but it's the fate of war," repUed Marvin, half seriously.
Archie was just elevating a huge slice of brown bread to his
mouth ; but it ceased its upward motion and came to a halt as he
replied, —
"The fate of war, Marvin! Why, d — n me, man, I b'lieve
you're love-sick. No, sir, it's no part of a warrior to ridicule a
man's parson. I know I've got a big foot ; but you must remem
ber, sir, that I'm a team aU over. I'm no smaU beer by a consid
erable of a d — d sight ! "
MaTrvin admitted the trath of Archie's assertion, and they con
cluded their meal in sUence. After it was finished, and Archie had
gathered up arid secured the fragments, they recrossed the bay, and

58 " COEA O'KANE, OE
were once more afloat in the skiff, Archie merely saying that it was
fortunate that they had found a hiding-place before the rebels per
ceived them. " 'Case," said he, " we might have had a skrimmage ! "
Archie directed his skiff to the northern shore, and vigorously plied
his oars.
They were not long in arriving at the confluence of the Grand
Creek and the Osage, when they carefully secreted the boat, and
pushed forward to the Settlement on foot.
Lieutenant Rollins and the men arrived at the Settlement about
the same time with Marvin and Archie. They were joyously re
ceived by the inhabitants ; yet they found them in the greatest state
of alarm, and in momentary expectation of an attack from O'Kane's
rebels, and a detachment of Pike's Indians who were temporarUy
under O'Kane. ,
The woinen and chUdren were placed within the fort ; the cattle
were driven up into the yards ; sentinels were posted in the forest
around them in different directions, and everything that could con
tribute to a Vigorous and determined defence was placed in some
convenient situation. Captain WUson and Lieutenant Carter de
taUed their meeting with the rebels and Indians in the woods ; and
the fact of their continuing their march in an easterly direction
seemed to confirm their fears and suspicions of an attack.
Soon after sundown, all sought refuge in the fort, which, although
not built in a scientific form, was sufficiently large and secure against
the attack of any troop destitute of artiUery.
In the evening, a consultation was called in the fort by the chief
men in the Settlement, and Captain Wilson and Lieutenant Carter
were of course called upon to participate in their deUberations. A
plan of defence was agreed upon in case they should be attacked ;
and, as the inhabitants were well aware thatthey could not expect
any mercy from the Indians, and scarcely any rfrom the rebels, it
was determined to fight until the last.
After the conclusion of the consultation, the guns and ammuni
tion of all were closely inspected ; and all but the sentinels on duty
retired to rest.
All was silent and undisturbed until near midnight, when the sen
tinel stationed farthest in the forest to the west of the Settlement,
discharged his gun, and hastily retreated towards the fort. The
alarm soon spread, and in a short time every man in the fort was

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 59
under arms, and prepared for battle. They were not long in expec
tation ; for, a few minutes after the sentinel who gave the alarm
had entered the fort, the troops seen by Marvin and Archie in the
morning, with a strong reenforcement that had joined- them oh the
way, made their appearance, accompanied by the Indians. As soon
as they were discovered, a burst of horror escaped the lips of sev
eral of the women in the fort, and the exclamations of " O'Kane I "
and " Pike's Indians ! " were passed from ear to ear.
It was indeed those ruthless marauders, who continued, during a
portion of the rebellion, to heap more odium upon their heads than
ever before fell to the lot of individuals like themselves, who were
marching now to the attack of Clay's Settlement. They had been
strongly reenforced by a detachment sent on by General Price to
cooperate with thera, and, panting for blood, and revenge upon the
Unionists, had approached the fort.
The name of O'Kane, and the presence of the savages, seemed
to strike a chill to the heart of every woman and child of the
Settlement. At this moraent, Captain WUson and Archie formed their men in
such a position that they felt that it was impossible for O'Kane's
men to enter; so they let them approach within short range.
Lieutenant Carter now, in a voice of thunder, commanded his
squad to fire. Captain Wilson immediately followed the example
of Carter, and commanded his squad to fire. At this moment a
tall spire of flame, from a barn near the fort, cast a bright and
fearful glare over every object ; and its appearance, and the tone in
which Carter spoke, served to arouse the settlers from their lethargy,
and they, in connection with the troops, who had reloaded, poured
in a close and deadly fire upon the advancing rebels.
The Indians now turned immediately, scattering in all directions,
and uttering wild and unearthly yells. A loud bellowing among
the cattle outside soon announced their whereabouts and occu
pation. As no part of the soldiers' or settlers' persons was exposed, the
rebels did not discharge a gun ; but, recovering from the slight
disorder into which the volleys of the Unionists had thrown them,
reformed, and steadily advanced towards the entrance to the fort,
headed by O'Kane. Ere they arrived there, however, another dis
charge — more deadly in its effects than the previous ones — caused

60 COEA O'KANE, OB
them to waver a moment; but, shouting, "Huzza for the bonnie
blue flag ! " O'Kane again advanced, followed by his men.
The burning barns increased in every direction. The cattle that
had»escaped the knives of the savages were running in the fields,
and through the streets, bellowing furiously. The women and chU
dren within the fort were shrieking and fainting ; and a more dis
tressing scene than the assaulted Settlement presented at this time
could not well be conceived.
The Unionists kept up a brisk discharge ; but, as the rebels were
close in under the walls, they were without any great effect. The
doors of the fort were composed of heavy oaken plank, and against
them O'Kane directed all his strength and ingenuity. A half dozen
axes were incessantly playing upon them from without ; whUe those
within saw the utter futility of all attempts to block up the passage
in case the door should give way, as it certainly must, under the
vigorous efforts now going on to effect it.
Captain Wilson immediately selected a number of the most sturdy
and determined of his command, and took his station directly in
front of the door. He urged and exhorted his companions to a
firra and unyielding resistance, and they promised implicitly to obey
his orders.
In about half an hour the door fell in with a heavy crash, and
the fierce combatants stood face to face — foe to foe. Uttering a
cry of encourageraent to his corarades, Marvin dashed upon the
advancing column of rebels, dealing tremendous blows in every
direction around him, with a huge sabre, which he had selected for
that purpose. He was bravely seconded by his comrades ; and, so
impetuous was the onset, and so determinedly was it kept up, that,
despite their greater numbers, the rebels were compeUed to retreat.
This change in circumstances was observed by Archie, and, shout
ing for the rest of the soldiers and the settlers to advance, he too
rushed into the furious conflict. This accession increased their
hopes, and consequently their exertions. They fought like heroes ;
and, notwithstanding O'Kane used every encouragement and threat
that he could devise, his men continued to give ground.
A fierce and bloody conflict raged without the fort for nearly an
hour, the rebels graduaUy retreating, and the Unionists foUowing
them up closely. O'Kane at length perceived the folly of con
tinuing the battle ; and he gave orders to his men to retreat to the

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 61
forest, intending to rally again, and once more renew the encounter.
They were pursued but a short distance bythe Unionists, whcfe know
ing that they would be conspicuous marks in the light of the blazing
buildings around them, retreated to the fort, hastily collecting, as
they did so, tlieir wounded comrades. They imraediately set to
work to repair the fallen door of the fort, which they accomplished
as well as they could in the hurry and confusion of the raoment. A
new supply of ammunition was dealt out to the men, and they
awaited another assault frora the discomfited rebels.
O'Kane was more than an hour in preparing and-, urging his men
to another assault. The Indians had slaughtered all the cattle within
thqir reach, and, thinking that such an honor was sufficient, refused
to participate further in the conflict until the women and children
were to be scalped.
O'Kane, however, was not to be intimidated or deterred from
another attempt, and at length his raen prepared, sullenly, to follow
him again beneath the walls of the fort. Slowly and solemnly they
raarched in the direction of the fort, and approached even nearer
than at first, before the Unionists evinced any syrapioms that they
knew of their whereabouts. Then, however, they were overtaken
by a tremendous discharge, at which some dozen feU, while the
remainder came to a dead halt. Another discharge quickly fol
lowed the first ; when, breaking through all discipline, and utterly
unmindful of the cries of the enraged O'Kane, the rebels faced
about and ran for the woods. A loud huzza from the fort accom
panied this exhibition of cowardice. O'Kane was compelled to
foUow his men ; and as they came to a halt just in the edge of the
forest, he again urged them to an attack on the fort. But they
SteadUy refused to advance an inch. They had experienced bad
usage in their former attempts, and were not at all inclined to test
again the mettle of their loyal opponents. Finding all attempts to
induce thera to make another trial of no avail, O'Kane sullenly
gave them orders to raarch, which they obeyed with alacrity. Tbey
did not take up their former line of march, however, but continued
up the river, leaving their dead and wounded to be cared for by the
Unionists. The Unionists, who were greatly inferior in numbers, did not feel
incUned to risk what they had gained by foUowing, and they were
permitted to depart in peace.

62 COEA o'kane, oe
While Marvin was at the Settlement, where he had fought so
braveljtin the defence of the lives and property of others, he Uttle
dreamed of the scenes that were enacting near his own humble
home. A detachment of O'Kane's Guard started early ii^ the evening, on
the day subsequent to the scenes which we have been relating, bent
upon the capture of Captain Wilson and Archie Carter. The expe
dition was composed of one hundred and eighty men, including
O'Kane and his Aid, provided with boats of almost every descrip
tion, and fully armed and accoutred for the formidable undertaking
of arresting two men. With the utmost possible caution and silence
they proceeded down the river to the spot designated, where the
men were landed and the boats secreted. Th^y waited at this
place in silence, sitting within the shade of the forest to escape
observation, until nearly eleven o'clock, when they started in the
direction of the cabin.
When they had arrived within a quarter of a mUe of the destined
spot, the main body was brought to a dead halt, and O'Kane and
one of his sergeants moved cautiously forward to reconnoitre. They
found the cabin all dark, while perfect silence reigned without and
within. One thing, however, perplexed O'Kane. He doubted not
that Wilson and Archie were slumbering within. He had supposed
that Captain WUson's company at Clay's Settlement was under com
mand of Lieutenant Rollins. StiU he thought it possible they
might be in the neighborhood of their captain. Feeling secure,
however, in the consciousness of superior numbers, he returned to
his comrades, determined to push on and secure his prey, at all
hazards. The Guards cautiously approached, headed by O'Kane, who was
armed with an axe. They arrived in front of the cabin undisturbed,
and then completely encircled it, in order to prevent the possibility
of an escape. A few heavy blows from O'Kane's axe demolished
the door, and he rushed in with his weapon uplifted, shouting, at
the top of his voice, —
" I command you to surrender, in the name of the Confederate
States of America."
He paused for an answer ; but none came.
" It is useless to think of escape," he continued, " for you are
entirely surrounded, and your only hope for mercy lies in your im
mediate surrender ! "

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 63
StiU no reply came to his pompous declaration, and he ordered
one of his men to strike a light. This was quickly accomplished,
and the mortified O'Kane found that the cabin was without an
inmate. He stood for some time, not attempting to conceal his
chagrin ; and then he shouted to his men, —
" Let us burn the wigwam ; they may be concealed iu it I "
A large quantity of dry brush was soon placed upon the floor of
the cabin, and the torch applied. As the logs of which it waa
composed were dry, it was soon completely wrapped in flame. The
rebels stood around it in a circle, eagerly expecting the appearance
of WUson and Archie. But, alas 'for their loyalty to the Confed
erate government, they carae not.
The rebels waited untU the last flickering flame of the burning
buUding had expired, and the forest was again overshadowed with
darkness, ere they gave up all hope of securing the objects of their
search ; but then they were compeUed to give up, and their crest
fallen captain gave orders for a homeward raarch. They soon came
up to their boats ; and, ere the day had dawned, the Guards had
returned, perfectly bloodless, and were raost of them in a sound
slumber. O'Kane chafed furiously under his disappointment, and sought
his couch, breathing forth vows of vengeance, "loud and deep."
He had hoped to secure Wilson, whom above all other men he
dreaded. He knew of his attachment to his niece, of his prompt
and daring character, and he feared lest he might prove a trouble
some obstacle in the way of the final and successful accomplishment
of sorae of his plans.
CHAPTER X.
Captain Wilson remained here with his men until the middle
of Septeraber. Price and his army were at Springfield, and it was
supposed he had gone into winter quarters. The inhabitants of the
Settlement prevaUed upon Captain WUson to remain with them a
little while longer. WhUe here, Marvin had leamed from a woman
that Cora was not dead, but had been removed to some distant
locality in the southern part of the state, by the direction of O'Kane.
Marvin's heart leaped witb joy at the information of the woraan in
regard to Cora.

64 COEA O'KANE, OB
Marvin went immediately to Archie, and informed him what the
woman had told him about Cora. Archie said to Marvin, —
" As it is only a few mUes up the river to O'Kane's house, I'm a
good mind to take the skiff and go and see what the old porcupine.
is about up there."
" That excursion would be attended with some danger," said Mar
vin. " You know very Well that as long as Price remains in Spring
field O'Kane and his guard will be ransacking this section of the
country." "That mought all be," said Archie. " I've got tired of lounging
around here."
" We are doing our duty," said Marvin, " in protecting the people
frora the assaults of the rebel banditti."
" Wai," said Archie, " I shall go. I shan't be reconcUed with my
self until I hear what the old critter has to say about Cora, anyhow."
In a few moraents Archie had floated his skiff into the river, and
then he rowed towards O'Kane's. When within a few rods of the
house, Archie secreted the skiff, and looked cautiously around to
ascertain if any one was stirring. Finding that all was quiet, he
marched boldly up to the house, and, without knocking, entered the
kitchen. Rebecca was standing at a table, with her back towards
him, when he entered, and ere she turned round he had coolly seated
himself in a chair. When Rebecca saw that Archie Carter was in
her presence, she w;as perfectly thunderstruck. Her eyes enlarged
to twice their natural dimensions, and the end of her sharp nose
tumed as white as chalk.
" Don't blush so, ma'ara," said Archie, with a smile that stretched
his huge mouth from ear to ear, at the same time placing his hand
upon his heart. " I raaUy couldn't bear to leave the country for
ever without seein' on ye once more. The fact is, ma'am," said he,
bowing very low, " I do love you awfully, though I say it myself;
and you raight travel many a mile and not find as likely a lookin'
man as what I am myself."
WhUst Archie was delivering himself of this gaUant speech,
Miss Rebecca had somewhat recovered her mental equilibrium. By
the tirae that Archie brought his passionate declamation to a close,
her tongue had becorae loosened on its pivot.
" What are you doing here, you great rascal that you are ? What
are you doing here again ? " she exclaimed furiously.

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 65
"Don't blame me at all, mai'am," said Archie, smUing; "don't
blame ine, ma'am. It's your beautfful face that's did the huU. I
should had to come back if the devU forbid me."
Rebecca was fairly stumped. The cool impudence of Archie was
more than she could quickly decide how to handle ; but she finaUy
exclaimed, —
" What do you mean, you lying vagabond? "
" I don't wonder you think I Ue, ma'ara, when I caU you hand
some," replied Archie ; " but aU folks don't see alike at aU. You've
smit my gizzard, ma'ara, and no mistake ! "
"Ain't you asharaed, you great vUlaip, to insult a virtuous female
in this manner, when you see she is all alone? " cried Rebecca.
"Ma'am, now don't say so ! " said Archie, beseechingly; " now
don't accuse rae of. sich ongenteel conduct. Only let me kiss you
once, ma'am, and you'U find that I am sincere in my pretensions."
"O Lord I " Screamed Rebecca, elevating both hands, and roUing
her eyes upwards. " You talk of kissing me, do you, you old
scoundrel ! You just try that once," she continued, lowering her
hands, and extending her fingers like hawks' claws, "you try that
once, and I'll scratch your eyes out, you brute ! "
"O, dear !" sighed Archie, "you've ondid rae, ma'am — clear
ondid me. Y'ou've conspired me with a vi'lent passion, and now
you refuse me only one kiss. O, ma'am, you're too crael ! "
" Get out of ray house, you impudent villain ! " screeched the
virago ; " get out of my house ! O, ff the servants were only
here, or O'Kane ! they'd give you your deserts, you great bear ! "
" Ma'am," said Archie, with a rueful visage, "I've come a great
distance to see you ; and if you won't accept the offer of my heart,
I hope you'U be generous enough to give me a bit of luncheon."
" You don't eat a bit in this house, you low-bred marauder ! "
exclaimed Rebecca. " You've eat here once too ofteuj now. So,
begone with yourself this moment ! "
"Look here, you old dromedary," said Archie, suddenly altering
his tone ; " get me something to eat, or, d— n me, I'U cut out your
tongue for you ! "
Rebecca seeming not inclined to obey, Archie thundered again in
her ear, —
" Get rae soraething to eat, you old shark ; for I must be off.
Don't make me speak agin I "
9

66 COEA O'KANE, OE
"I won't, so there, if I die for it," said Rebecca, snappishly.
" Then, d — n rae, I'll get it myself," said Archie, rising from hia
chair, and approaching a cupboard which was standing in one cor
ner of the room. "You ain't generous at all, ma'am," said he,
opening the door, and drawing forth two large pies, and cooUy de
positing them under his arm. Turning to Rebecca, he said, —
" Old damsel, you must be pretty well acquainted with me by this
time. You know, I guess, that I generally' do about as I promise.
Now, harkee : I don't war with she folks, no way ; but I want to
ax you one question ; and if you don't make a correct answer, I'U
choke your old weasand for you. Where's O'Kane's niece?"
Rebecca, turning pale, replied, —
" She is not dead, but has been removed to the southern part of
the state ; and that's all I know about it."
Archie, seeing that he could worm no more out of the old virago,
left the house, and started with all speed towards the skiff. When
he arrived there, it was about noon ; and seating hiraseff beneath a
tree, he partook hastily of one of Rebecca's pies, and then proceed
ed down the river towards the Settlement. He labored faithfuUy at
the oars, and shortly after four o'clock entered the viUage. Archie
went directly to Captain Wilson, and told hira that he had not been
able to get any additional news in regard to the whereabouts of
Cora. Captain Wilson detailed part of his men to assist the set
tlers in putting the fort in perfect repair, so that they would feel
secure against another attack from O'Kane, and then concluded to
return to the army. The next morning, they bade adieu .to their
friends, and in two days reached the headquarters of General Sigel.

CHAPTER XI.
Kind reader, we will now return to Cora, whom we left ^ome
time since in her desolate situation. The evening after the conver
sation she had heard, Cora retired to her bed with the determination
to stay in the house no longer. " But where shall I go ? " she asked
herself. " I cannot return to my uncle's, and I have no one to pro
tect me ; " and the tears flowed down her cheeks as they had a thou
sand times before. WhUe her heart was fiUed with sadness, there
was one ray of light flitted across her mind : she remembered well

THE DOOM OF THB EEBEL GUAED. 67
what the man had said, that the Union army would soon be there.
" Now," she said to herself, " ff I can only contrive to raake ray
escape from the custody of the old woman, and get within the
lines of the Union army, if I do not meet with Marvin, I shall at
least be with friends." She then determined to try aU possible
ways to make her escape. " If I die in the attempt, it can be no
worse for me ; for the treatment I receive here is almost beyond
endurance." The next morning she arose more refreshed than she
had been for many mornings previous. " Now," she said to her
self, " I must watch every opportunity to make my escape."
Cora, up to this time, had been closely watched by the old wo
man ; yet once or twice she had been aUowed the privilege of goiflg
into the old woman's room, which adjoined hers. It was nearly
eight o'clock when she came in with Cora's coarse breakfast. Cora
observed that she looked deadly pale, and could but just walk.
" WeU, miss," said she, " I have had a mighty bad night of it,
and I am sick now ; " and as she turned to go out of the room, she
feU to the floor in a fit. Cora, seeing her in this state, was at first ter
ribly fi-ightened ; but in a moment she regained her seff-possession,
and ran for some water, with which she bathed the old woman's head,
which so revived her, that, with Cora's help, she managed to get to
her bed. Cora, in aU the tendemess of her heart, prepared for her
some herb tea, which quickly relieved her pain, and soothed her to
sleep ; and as she had had no rest during the night, her sleep now
became sound. Cora now found herself, at least for a moment, at
liberty ; and she was determined, although that was not the time
to make her escape, to prepare for it. She turned around and
looked at the old woman, who was still sleeping soundly. She then
went to the door, and looked out, as she had not had that privilege
before since she had been there. As she came back into the room,
she discovered an old reticule lying upon the floor. She had the
curiosity to examine it, and, to her great delight, found the key to
her trank. She again looked at the old woman, who had turned
over in bed, and was still sleeping. She found her trunk under the
bed. She now moved it carefully out, opened it, and selected from
her clothing a calico dress, a thin shawl, and a Shaker bonnet. She
carried them out and hid them under some brush, a few steps from
the house.
After she had accomplished all this, which she did in less time

68 COEA O'KANE, OE
than it takes us to record it, she returned to the bed, and was in the
act of bathing the old woman's temple, when she awoke somewhat
refreshed. Cora asked her if she should go back to her room. The
old woman made an effort to rise, but she was so weak she could
not. She told Cora she might remain with her until the old man
came back from town.
In a little while the old man came in, and was somewhat sur
prised to find the old woman worse, and Cora nursing her. The
old woman had just strength enough to tell him what a poor time
she had had, and that she would have died had it not been for Cora.
"Wai," said the old man, "I thought the gal was mighty nice,
when she first come here ; and that it was a cussed mean trick to
shut her up here against her wUl, and keep her so long. But you
see, gal," tuming to Cora, that the old woman was going to make
a great heap out of it, and I lets her have her own way. But, old
woman," said he, "Bill White told me to-day that Martin was at
Cairo, and that Lincoln's army was around there, and if he should
get gobbled up, you would never get any pay for the gal's staying
here. I tell you, old critter, Martin has euchred you; and I
shouldn't care if she toted off this very day."
The old woman sank back on her piUow, and closed her eyes.
The conversation of the old man somewhat surprised Cora, and it
led her to believe that he would have no objection to her leaving.
All the afternoon the old woman was very sick, and Cora had to
remain with her. She retired to her room that night, and the old
man took her place as nurse. The next moming she found the old
woman not rauch better.
At breakfast, the old man told Cora that BUl White was a kind
of partner of Martin's ; and, he said, "If he knew the old woman
was sick, he would come and carry you off. Now, if you want to
return to your friends, you may go to-morrow morning ; and I wUl
show you a path by which you can go, and not go near the town."
Cora expressed to him her heartfelt thanks, and promised to
reward him if it ever lay in her powei:.
Cora was up the next morning before the sun. The old raan had
gone to the spring for some water ; and, whUe he was gone, she
slipped out and brought in her clothing that she had hid in the
brush. She was not long in preparing breakfast, and when the old
man carae in they sat down.

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 69
After breakfast the old man told her to prepare for her journey.
She went into her room and changed her clothing ; then came out
and tied up a few things that she found in her trunk. In a short
time she was ready to start.
The old man led her to the path she was to take. " Now," said
he, "gal, you keep this path ; do not turn to the right or left, but
keep right straight ahead. And may God bless you."
Cora thanked him, and added, if she was so fortunate as to reach
her friends, she would remember/ this act of kindness.
Cora made good progress, issuing from the ten-mUe wood about
eleven o'clock. She had foUowed the sandy cart path which led
through it. The pine barrens, being almost destitute of under
wood and flowers, had great monotony. MUe after mUe it was the
same dull level.
When she reached the open country, the sun poured down its fur
nace heat, and her feet were sore with the hot sand. But she was
willing to suffer hardships to get out of the power of her uncle.
While stopping here a moment to rest, a slave rode up, with a mule
team, drawing a smaU load of wood.
" Why, he ! " said he ; " who's runnin' off now ? "
Cora looTied up, in surprise, at the bright-looking, good-natured
negro of twenty.
" I begs your pardon, miss ; you kep' your head down, an' I said
to myse'f, 'Pears Uke dish sher is some poor slave woman, an' I'll jist
give her a Ifft an' let her ride a piece ; but, as you is a poor white,
you is jist as welcome to a seat in my wagon."
Cora made no reply to what the slave had said, and gladly took
a seat beside him.
" Where are you going ? " he asked.
This was a serious and a fearful question. Her only, thought
was to get to her Union friends. The direct way to go she did not
know, nor the names ofthe towns she should pass through. Waiv
ing the question, she asked the slave if he knew the name of the
next town.
"It is Cass, miss; and it' is a right smart of a journey; it wiU
take two or three days for you to walk there. But I wUl whip up
my mules, and tote you a piece of the way. Massa wUl not know,
'case, you see, massa has gone to de war."
"Do you know anything about the war ? " asked Cora.

70 COEA O'KANE, OB
" Well, some," replied the slave ; " the Union army was coming,
massa said, the other day.''
" Do you know any one in Cass?" asked Cora. ^
" Well, I have been there for massa ; but I don't know any white
folks there. If you will wait until I unload this wood, I wiU tote you
a good ways towards there ; and here is some lunch in my basket."
The slave proceeded to give Cora some cold turkey and plum
pudding, which he obtained from the cook, a particular friend of
his, being the remnants of yesterday's dinner of the family. Cora
sat down and ate some, while the slave unloaded his wood. Very
soon he came back, and said, —
" I will tote you a piece farther now ; massa is gone, and I'm
boss now ; and I think that I cari take you to a cabin, where lives
an old man, about four miles from here, and the old man wUl keep
you over night. \ He is a Moravian preacher."
Cora felt that if she could only get there, he might be her friend.
It was past sundown when Cora arrived at the cabin of the preacher.
The old man, with his long, flowing, white beard, was sitting at his
cabin door when Cora came up;
" Good evening," said the old man as Cora approached him, with
an expression of kindness on his countenance that bespoke that she
had met with a friend indeed.
" Good evening," replied (yora. " Could I have the privUege of
remaining here to-night, as I have travelled a long way to-day ? "
asked Cora.
" You can," said the old raan. " My horae is a humble one, and
my fare coarse, but such as it is, I am willing to share it with you.
Walk in, miss."
Cora entered the cabin. The old man had but a few articles of
furniture ; but they were very neatly arranged about the roora.
On a shelf, fastened up with cords, lay the old Bible. After they
had finished their evening meal, the old man turned to Cora, and
asked where she was going.
" Friend," said Cora, " my journey is long, and my story is a sad
one ; and, while the dark clouds of war are hovering over us, — and
such a war as this, where brother is arrayed against brother, and
neighbor against neighbor, — a poor fugitive, escaping from the
cruelties of those that would deprive her of that which was dear in
this life, and even life itself, and all for the possession of that patri-

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 71
mony that her dead father desired that she should receive and enjoy,
must first know that she is with a true friend."
The old man said that he was the friend of the bowed down and
the distressed, and she could place the most impUcit confidence
in him, and if he could ameliorate her condition, he would will
ingly do it.
Cora now commenced the sorrowful. story. It was late at night
when she lay down in a corner of the room upon a bed of wUd
beasts' skins, which the old man had prepared for her. Being very
tired, and feeling perfectly secure, she was soon asleep.
The old man had been up some time before Cora awoke in the
morning, and she found him preparing a breakfast for them. After
they had eaten, Cora made preparations to leave, although her feet
were very sore. The old man desired her to stay a few days, but
she was afraid to ; she thought she was too near Martin's friends to
make a long stop.
" WeU," said the old raan, "it is a long way to the Union lines,
and there are a great many bands of guerrillas around here. It is
quite a number of miles to Cass, and I do not think you could get
there to-night. I will go with you to a house some seven miles
from here, on your way, where the people are very kind, and will
take care of you over night."
The old raan now got ready to accompany Cora ; and, as they
walked steadily along, she thought of the troubles that were past,
and what she must stUl endure, but she was willing to put her trust
in God, and hope for the best.
It was nearly eleven o'clock when 'the old man and Cora arrived
at the house of the old man's friends.
" Well," said the old man to the woman of the house, " is Mr.
Fobbs at home ? "
She replied tbat he was, and would be in soon. The old man
then told the woman that this young lady felt desirous to reach that
part of the state where the Union army was.
WhUe they were conversing, Mr. Fobbs came in, and joined in
the conversation. He said that this section of the country was
overrun with bands of rebel soldiers ; that they were riding around,
and it would be almost impossible for Cora to go in safety. " So I
think she had better remain here, untU we provide a way for her.
I don't feel myself safe here. Colonel Thompson, ' the swamp fox,'

72 COEA O'KANE, OE
is picking up all the men he can find, and I am determined not to
enter the rebel ranks. And, as I can't remain here long in safety,
I've made up my mind to start this very night for Houston, and I
will carry the girl within a couple of miles of Springfield."
At dark, Fobbs drove to the door, and in a few moments, they
were on the road. The cart was not so easy a vehicle as Cora had
rode in before, but it was preferable to going on foot.
The next morning they were within a few miles of Springfield.
Here Mr. Fobbs told Cora that he must leave her, as he did not
deem it safe for him to enter the town. I
Cora felt happy that she had arrived so far towards her journey's
end ; but yet she felt that if she eould find a friend here, to direct
her the way she should go, it would be fortunate. As she was
walking up the street, she was accosted by a man wearing the Con
federate uniform, who asked her where she was going.
" To see my friends," replied Cora, walking on. At this moment
he grasped her by the arm, and said, —
" Hold on here I You are going to be free on the strength of
Fremont's Proclamation, are you?"
Cora .saw at once that she was in trouble. What to do she did
not knbw. As the man held her by the arm, tears flowed down
her cheeks ; but she said nothing.
"Now," said the man, "you must tell rae where you are going."
" To my friends," replied Cora.
" Where are your friends ? " he inquired.
"I will not tell you," said Cora.
" You're a runaway, I reckon. We've a safe place for aU such
as you are."
The man now led Cora before the justice of the town ; and, as
they were going along, the crowd cried out, —
"What's the rbw?"
" Why," replied the man, "this girl has strayed into town, and
can give no reasonable account of herself. She wants to see her
friends ; and I am taking her to the justice."
When they arrived at the justice's office, the justice asked the
mauj "Who have you there?"
" A runaway slave," said the soldier.
" She is no slave, or nigger," said Mrs. Johnson, the jailer's
wffe, who stood in the door ; " she is white as I am."

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 73
'That may be," said the justice ; "we have white slaves as weU
as black ones, and if she is at aU suspected of being a runaway,
we must commit her to jaU _ the receptacle of criminals and
slaves." This was a trying time to Cora. What could she do? She did
not dare to teU who her friends were ; and if her uncle should find
her out, then it would be worse for her.
It was past twelve o'clock when she entered the jaU, and, as she
was very sad and weary, she did not fully realize her condition ; so
she sank down to rest.
In a few minutes the jaUer entered, and asked her a few ques
tions. Cora replied that she should answer no questions ; that she
was no slave.
" Well, miss, I don't think that you are ; but I must obey orders.
I am willing to make you as comfortable as possible."
He now went out ; but returned in a few minutes with a husk
mattress and bed clothing, and also something to eat.
" Here, miss," said he, " make yourself as comfortable as you can."
After the jaUer went out, Cora sat upon the bed, and a sigh
escaped her lips. Here she was, deprived of liberty, friends, and
all the comforts of life.
"O," she exclaimed, "what would my poor dead father say, if
he only knew what his darling child suffered I When all his facul
ties were employed in the accumulation of wealth, that his daughter
might enjoy it, little did he think she would ever suffer such terrible
trials at the hands of her nearest relatives."
She thought of Marvin. If he only knew her condition and
situation, he would leave everything, and dare all, and fly upon the
wings of love and release her.
For two long days no one visited her in her prison home. With
in a few rods of the jaU lived a colored woman, named Parker.
She had been a slave, but had been Uberated by her master, who
left her a little property. She had always detested the jaU, yet she
was a frequent visitor to ameUorate the condition of such of her
race as were so unfortunate as to be imprisoned there. On the
third day of Cora's imprisonment the good woman came in, and as
the jaUer had spoken to her in regard to Cora, she had a great
desire to see her. The jailer said he was willing to give her the
opportunity, and would lead her to Cora's ceU. When she entered,
10

74 COEA O'KANE, OB
Cora was seated upon her bed, with both her hands covering her
face, sobbing bitterly.
"Miss," said the old colored woman, kindly, "wiU you teU me
M'ho you are ? "
" I am no slave."
" I know that," said the old woman. And she spoke in such
kind tones that Cora took courage.
" I am no slave, and I do so want to leave this horrid place."
"I wUl see what I can do for you, my dear."
The good woman now went to see the jailer, to know what could
be done in gaining Cora's liberty. The jailer said he was wUUng
Cora should go, but he supposed she raust be sold for the justice's
fees, andthe expense he had been to in keeping her in jail; and,
before he could release her, he must have an order from the justice.
He went directly to the justice's office, who made out a biU for his
fee, and an order for the girl's release. This done, he carried it,
in connection with his own bill, to the colored woman, who imme
diately paid the whole.
" Now," said the jailer, " you can take the girl home, as your
slave." She now went with the jailer into Cora's cell. As soon as Cora
saw her, she came towards her, and said, —
" My friend, can you do anything for me ? "
" I have," replied the colored woman. " You can now go with
me. Although against ray conscience, I had to buy you, in order
to get you out."
" O, God ! " cried Cora, " am I a slave? O, Infinite Wisdom,
when will my cup of misery be full? Is it now, and have I drank
it to the dregs ? "
Mrs. Parker told the jailer that she was no poor white, or slave,
but a lady, " and I know it," she said.
" I think so myself," replied the jailer ; " and I'm afraid we shall
all have to suffer for this, sooner or later."
The colored woman now led Cora out of the jail, soothing her as
best she could as they walked, along.
"O," said Cora, "I thank you a thousand times; butl have not
the money to pay you for what you have already done."
"That is a matter we will talk about when your mind is a little
more reconciled than it is to-day."

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 75
Cora had been with the colored woman about a week, when she
told the woman who she was and where she intended to go. Mrs.
l-arker told her that she had yet some distance to go, and that she
had better remain with her a while longer, which Cora agreed to
do. lhat very afternoon, Mr. Fobbs came in, and, in conversation
with Mrs. Parker, told her that he was going to join the Federal
army at Rolla. In reply to Mrs. Parker's suggestion that Cora
should accompany him to the Federal lines, he. thought it would
not be proper. At this moment he heard the sound of a trumpet,
and, looking out, saw a company of rebel cavalry coming towards
the house. He turned to Mrs. Parker, and said, " This wUl be a
pretty hot place for me soon, so I must bid you good by."

CHAPTER XII.
In a few days after Captain Wilson reported to General Sigel,
he was ordered to hold himself in readiness for duty at any moment:
As Archie was sitting by the side of Marvin one evening, in their
tent, he broke the sUence by exclaiming, —
" I reckon O'Kane will have to suffer for all of this yet. But,
blamo me ! I regret one thing."
"What is that?" asked Marvm.
" I regret that I did not kiss the old porcupine the time I took
her pies."
" Well, you may have that privUege yet," said Marvin.
" You are joking, now, captain, and I know it. But if I ever
get a good sight at O'Kane, he never will know what hurt him, I
reckon. He is doomed ; and if there is any truth in preaching, he
can't prosper. The way he has treated his. niece is enough to con
demn any man."
" Yes," said Marvin, " there is a just God that rules, and to
him he must look for mercy. I have not mentioned Cora's name
to you since we were at the Settlement ; but I have thought of her,
and have sworn before high Heaven to avenge her wrongs."
At this point of the conversation. Lieutenant RoUins entered the
tent, having posted the guard for the night, as it was nearly sun
down. The three officers had just seated themselves for their even-
ino- meal, when an orderly brought an order to Captain Wilson,

76 COEA O'KANE, OK
requesting his presence at headquarters. Captain Wilson did not
stop to finish his meal, but hastened there immediately. As he
entered, General Sigel said, —
" Captain, here is a man that has come in frora the rebel lines.
He says that there has been an intelligent young lady sold into
slavery ; that her family resided somewhere about Osceola ; and
that her name is Cora O'Kane. Now, captain, have you ever
known such a young lady ? " *
jSIarvin turned pale at this information, and answered him in the
affirmative. He related to the general how her uncle abducted her
from home, and carried her off to parts unknown, that he might
retain the property bequeathed to her by her father. The general
ordered Mar viri to retire to his quarters, and make preparations to
march to her rescue on' the foUowing day. As soon as Marvin had
returned to his tent, he sought Archie, and related to him what had
transpired at headquarters.
"Now, Archie, are you ready for the undertaking? " said Marvin.
" I am with you, Marvin, by the roaring Jehu ! " exclaimed Ar
chie ; " and I'll be cussed if I won't chew them all into shoe-strings,
but what we will have that ar gal yet.''
" Well, Archie," said Marvin, " I am glad you are with me in
this undertaking."
They now retired for the night ; but Marvin cBuld not sleep for
the thought of meeting Cora again, and perhaps finaUy uniting his
destiny to hers. A new existence seemed to dawn upon him. His
feelings were ¦ tumultuous ; yet they were mingled now and then
with a fear that it might all prove in the end an illusion.
The next morning, Marvin rose early,, and began making prepa
rations for their departure. At ten o'clock. Lieutenants Carter and
Rollins had formed the men in line, ready to march. Captain
Wilson now rode up in front of his men, and addressed them as
follows : —
" Comrades, we are about to start upon an expedition that will
require every man to keep a strict lookout ; and it is my wish that
each man do his duty promptly and efficiently, so that, when I re
turn, I shall be able to give a good report of every one of you."
After Captain Wilson had closed his remarks to his men, they
gave three hearty cheers, and rode from camp. In the afternoon
of the third day from camp, as Archie was riding some little ways

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 77
in front of the corapany, he discovered a rebel traU. He immedi
ately wheeled, and ordered the company to halt ; then riding up to
Captain Wilson, he- said, —
" These infernal secesh are about here, and no mistake ! Now, I
think we had better camp here ; and I wUl jump off my horse, and
follow the trail, and see what I can find."
Archie, as good as his word, dismounted, and took the trail that
led into the forest. Captain Wilson ordered his men to dismount,
and prepare to camp. Archie moved cautiously along on the trail
for about two miles down the river, until he came to a little opening.
There he discovered an encampment of rebels. It was a spot so
little exposed to discovery, that the band had thrown off the re
straints of war. They had no pickets out, and their horses were
loose, browsing on the luxuriant foliage. The fires for cooking
their supper were burning in the bright glow of sunset. Some of
the men were cooking, some eating, and others lounged upon the
grass in front of their tents, playing cards.
Archie, crawling down among the bushes, got so near that he
could almost hear them converse. He was satisfied that.it was
O'Kane and his Guard. He cautiously returned to camp, ^and told
Captain WUson that they had struck the trail of O'Kane, " and a
pretty set of cut-throats they are too," said he. Archie proposed
to the captain thatthey should leave their horses where they were,
and raarch as carefully as they could, and take the camp by surprise.
Captain Wilson assented to this proposal, and ordered his men to
secure the horses to the trees, and prepare to march.
"Don't lose half of the victory," said Archie, "by being in too
big a hurry. Let us rest ourselves, and eat something, and then be
ready for work."
The most of them obeyed the injunction, catching a brief sleep
while they waited for orders. Some three or four of the company
could neither eat nor sleep. Obscured in its own shadow, the dense
forest was soon enveloped in darkness, and they waited patiently
for the rising of the full harvest moon in the east. A more favor
able hour for the attacking party could not have been desired.
They were enabled to steal into the very camp of the enemy before
they were discovered. SUent and fierce as the tiger whose young
has been stolen from her, they pressed up to the very tent doors.
" Who goes there ? " cried out suddenly a sharp-eared bandit.

78 COEA O'KANE, OE
His answer was a bullet through the heart. Of the whole camp
which sprang to find the cause of the alarm, twenty bit the dust at
the first fire. The men, sur^orised, and some of them at a distance
from their arms, could hardly distinguish in the moonlight friend
from foe ; but the Unionists had marked them, and bore them
down resistlessly. O'Kane's men now fought desperately. Those
that lost their rifles drew their knives, with which they made ,a stout
resistance. On rushed Captain Wilson towards the tent, which, by
a small, dark flag flying near it, and its superior size, was marked
as that of O'Kane. Coming to the door, with rifle in hand and
sword at his side, he looked out for the cause of the milee. The
moon shone full upon his figure and dark face. It was O'Kane,
,and Marvin Wilson stood before him. One flash of those glowing
eyes told him how matters stood. For a moment he stood amazed,
then, with a deadly spring, rushed at the avenger, and flred, but
missed the object of his flerce hate. He now ran in circles, and
doubled, to escape the aim of his enemies ; but he was the object
of too righteous a wrath to escape the onset of the resolute men who
pressed upon him. He fell, pierced by half a dozen bullets. Ris
ing upon his elbow, he drew his revolver, and aimed at his nearest
foe ; and the chance shot of his dying hand pierced the arm of
Marvin. " Take that, you sneaking, prowling wolf! " ySUed Archie in the
ear of.the expiring man. " That's for burning our captain's cabin,
and your base treatraent of your niece," and he plunged his bow^ie-
knife through the body of O'Kane. " I have kept my oath, and I
am satisfied."
The remainder of the band, seeing the fall of their leader, took
to flight, catching their horses as they. could, and making for the
woods ; but they were met by Lieutenant RoUins and a portion of
the men, who gave them such a volley that but few escaped. It
was not until Archie turned from the corpse of O'Kane, that he
discovered that Marvin was wounded. He immediately ran to him,
and inquired if he was badly hurt.
" I think not," said Archie ; " it is only a flesh wound in the arm."
One of the raen brought a Ughted torch to Archie, who closely
exarained the wound.
" It's nothing but a scratch," said Archie, " and a Uttle plaster
will fix that all right."

THE DOO'ji OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 79
Archie suggested that Marvin had better be removed to O'Kane's
tent for the night.
" ^ ?^ ^^^'^y "^^^^ *'^^''^ myself," said Marvin, which he did.
Archie ordered the tent to be guarded, while he and some of the
men went back to look after their horses. Finding them aU right,
they concluded to take them to the late rebel encampment, and
there remain untU morning. The men now went to work and re
kindled the smouldering fires of the rebels, and prepared themselves
some refreshments. Archie, in the capacity of surgeon, was busily
at his sad work, whUe the men were bringing the wounded together.
And thus they worried out the night.
In the morning, Marvin beheld the corpse of O'Kane. He was
stretched out at full length upon the ground in his uniform of the
Confederate Guard. A hideous grin distorted his features, and he
appeared to have left the world in great agony. After the men had
buried the dead. Captain Wilson and his officers held a council, to
ascertain what they had better do, as they found that four of their
own men were wounded, and about twenty of O'Kane's Guard.
They proposed to go no farther at present, but to return with their
wounded, who must receive immediate relief. Archie ordered his
men to make preparations for carrying the wounded. They man
aged to fit up three of O'Kane's wagons for that purpose. When
the men had appropriated all the valuables which they could find to
their own use, they set fire to the encampment, and left.
When Marvin's men had put the wounded rebels into the wagon,
they found Lieutenant Colonel Rice, of O'Kane's Guard, badly
wounded ; and, in conversation with Captain Wilson, he told him
that O'Kane had been in camp, where he was surprised, about three
days, and that they were on their way to join Price. As O'Kane
was determined to do but little fighting outside of Missouri, he had
been in no hurry about moving.

CHAPTER XIII.
They had not gone a great distance on their way back before
they were happily surprised by meeting Majors Zagonyi and White,
with their commands, on their way to Springfield. Captain WUson
told them that he had just had a fight with O'Kane, and had anni-

80 COEA O'KANE, OE
hilated, his Guard, and he was now on his return with the wounded-
to Rolla ; and he proposed, after conversing with them a while as to
the route they should take to Springfield, to detach a squad of men,
in charge of a sergeant, to take the wounded to Rolla, whUe he and
the rest of his men accompanied Zagonyi to Springfield. They
were soon on their way, and, by marching all night, arrived at
Springfield early next morning. As they had made a detour of
twelve miles, this brought them to the right of the town.
On reaching the outskirts of Springfield, they found twelve hun
dred infantry and four hundred cavalry were posted on the crown
of a hUl, prepared for 'and awaiting them. But the brave Unionists
did not quail. A rairy brook and a stout raU fence, where sharp
shooters were judiciously posted behind the trees and fences, were
the first things the Unionists discovered as they approached the ene
my. They could see no entrance but through a very narrow lane.
Zagonyi advanced to Captain Wilson, and handed him the glass ;
who looked through it towards the enemy.
" You observe, captain," said the major, " the obstacles to be
overcome before we can get very riear the rebels. That fence must
be taken down, and those sharpshooters silenced, before we can
strike. Can you accomplish that work, captain ? "
" I will try," said Captain Wilson ; and he turned to his brave
comrades, and said, —
" My lads, we have an iraportant work to perform. Be steady,
be vigilant, and fight with your usual bravery."
Marvin now divided his men into two platoons, he comraanding
one and Archie the other. Captain WUson now gave the word
of command : — ^
" By the right flank, march ! " and they rushed to their work.
All this was the act of a raoment ; but when that raoment had
passed, seventy of Marvin's raen, dead and wounded, were stretched
upon the ground. This caused Marvin to be more frantic, and he
rushed on to the enemy with the fury of a lion. Archie's voice was
heard above the din of battle. Zagonyi, closely watching the raove
raents of Marvin, turned to his brave guard, and said, —
" Now is the time, boys ! Come on — I will lead you ! Let the
watchword be, ' The Union and Fremont ! ' Draw sabres I Quick
step, march ! "
Up to this time no guardsman has struck a blow. Their time

THE DOOM OP THE EEBEL GUAED. 81
¦has come. Lieutenant Mathenyi, -with thirty men, is ordered to
attack the cavalry. With sabres flashing over their heads, the little
band of heroes spring towards their tremendous foe. Right upon
the centre they charge. The dense mass opens, the blue-coats force
their way in, and the whole rebel squadron scatter in disgraceful
flight through the cornfields in the rear. The boys foUow them,
sabring the fugitives. Days afterwards, the enemy's horse lie thick
among the uncut corn. Zagonyi holds his main body untU May-
then ji disappears in the cloud of rebel -cavalry ; then his voice rises
through the air, —
" In open order — charge I "
The line opens out, to give play to their sword-arm. Steeds
respond to the order of their riders, and, quick as thought, with
thriUing cheers, the noble hearts rush into the leaden torrent which
pours down the incline. With unabated fire, the gallant fellows
press through. The fierce onset is not even checked. The foe do
not wait for them — they waver, break, and fly. The guardsmen
spur into the midst of the rout, and their fast-falling swords work
a terrible revenge. Some of the boldest of the Southrons retreat
into the woods, and continue a murderous flre from behind, trees and
thickets. Seven guard-horses fall upon a space not more than
twenty feet square. As his steed sinks under him, one of the offi
cers is caught around the shoulders by a grape-vine, and hangs
dano-ling in the air until he is cut down by his friends. The rebel
foot are flying in furious haste from the fleld. Some take refuge in
the fair-ground; some hurry into the comflelds; but the greater
part run along the edge of the wood, swarm over the fence into the
road, and hasten to the viUage.. The guardsmen follow. Zagonyi
leads thera. Over the loudest roar of battle rings his clarion
voice : —
" Come on. Old Kentuck f I'm with you ! " and the flash of his
sword-blade tells his men where to go.
As he approaches a barn, a man steps from behind the door and
lowers his rifle : but, before it has reached a level, Zagoiiyi's sabre-
point descends upon his head, and his life-blood leaps to the very
top of the huge barn door. The conflict now rages through the
vUlage — in the public square and along the streets. Up and down
the guards ride in squads of three or four, and, wherever they see
a group of the enemy, charge upon and scatter them. Itis hand
11

82 COEA O'KANE, OE
to hand. No one but has a share in the fray. After the rebels had
been driven from their works, they rushed for the village, and Cap
tain Wilson and Archie, with their little command, followed thera.
Marvin's horse stumbled and fell, and, while he was trying to extri
cate iimself from the fallen steed, he severely injured his wounded
arm. A colored woman, seeing the dilemma the Union officer was
placed in, rushed out of her house to his rescue. At this moment,
Archie turned round to see if the captain was near him, and he
quickly beheld the plight that he was in. Archie wheeled at once,
and went to his assistance, but not until the colored woman had
succeeded in getting him up, and was leading him towards her house.
Archie secured the captain's horse and his own ; and when he en
tered the colored woman's house, Marvin lay upon the bed, and
Cora was bathing his head.
As Cora saw Archie enter, she gave hira a smile, but spoke not
a word, she was so busily engaged in bathing the hero's head.
Marvin lay unconscious of what was going on around him. The
colored woman now tumed to Archie, and said, —
" I do not think he's dangerously injured."
" No, no," said Cora, bending over him. " Speak, Marvin, do
speak to me.*"
He smiled as he heard her voice, and opened his eyes. His face
was so thin and so pale, that he looked as if months of sickness
had passed over him. She now poured between his lips some stim
ulant. He soon spoke, in a suppressed voice, and said, —
"It's only my arm," which Archie and the woman went about
dressing as well as they could. The bustle of preparation for pur
suing the enemy now grew so loud, that Archie was obUged to
leave, saying, as he turned to go, —
" Captain, I must leave you for a while."
As he entered the street, and seized his horse's rein, to raount, he
saw men approaching with Lieutenant Rollins on a stretcher. He
was wounded in the thigh, and they were carrying him to the rear.
" Wai," said Archie to himself, " who knows but what my turn
will come next? " as he jumped upon his horse, and rode towards the
enemy. He had proceeded but a short distance before he saw Za
gonyi. He told Archie he should evacuate the town by nightfall.
Archie then said, —
" By your permission, major, I wUl see to the removal of Captain

THE DOOM OF THE EEBEL GUAED. 83
WUson immediately ; he was severely hurt by the falling of his
horse." " Yes, certainly," said the major. " So brave a hero as he has
proved hinlself must be taken care of."
Lieutenant Archie rode back to Marvin, and preparations _were
made to remove him from the town ; and Cora must certainly go
with them. WhUe Archie went to procure a wagon for their con
veyance, Marvin amply paid Mrs. Parker for what she had done for
Cora and himself. Archie returned in about an hour with a very
comfortable vehicle. They were soon on the road, and by sundown
had reached a place of safety, and were snugly bivouacked for the
night. On the foUowing morning. General Sigel came up with the
whole of his coraraand. Captain Wilson remained in this camp
three days, where a hospital had been prepared for the reception of
the wounded. With the services of a skilful surgeon, and the
careful nursing of .Cora, Marvin was getting along very well.
While here. Captain WUson tendered his resignation to General
Fremont, which was accepted, as the condition of his arm was such
that it would not admit of his performing any actual service for
some time. For the heroic bravery of Archie and the men of his
command, a furlough of thirty days was accorded.

CHAPTER XIV.
It was a lovely raorning, about the last of September, after the
events detailed in the previous chapter, that Captain WUson and his
little band, accorapanied by Cora, set out for Clay's Settlement.
They proceeded easily along, and did not arrive at the place of des
tination untU the afternoon of the third day of their departure from
camp. It had been agreed that they should not halt at the man
sion, but proceed at once to the Settlement. When they came within
view of the house, Cora was affected to tears, and she wept freely.
All around the mansion seemed silent and de,serted. There was no
one to be seen around the premises, and everything seemed to beto
ken the absence of the owner.
After Cora had remained three days at the Settlement, she and
her friends proceeded to the mansion of which she was now undis
puted owner. Rebecca was in great distress at the death of her

84 COEA o'kane.
brother-in-law, and, completely humbled, she implored the forgive
ness of Cora, which was readily granted, O'Kane had obtained
the fortune of Cora, but, alas for him ! only that she might enjoy
it. Cora O'Kane was grateful to that Providence that had watched
over and defended her amid all the trials she had been called on to
pass through. She acknowledged it with gratitude when she thought
of her deliverance, and she acknowledged it when she pondered
upon the Doom of the Rebel Guard.
On the day after her arrival at thet mansion, Cora O'Kane was
united to Marvin Wilson by the very minister who had attended
hirii previous to his intended execution, in the presence of Lieutenant
Rollins, Archie Carter, and Rebecca. When their furlough had
expired, Archie and his men departed to join the army under Sigel.
He steadily refused the urgent solicitations of Marvin and his wife
to spend his days beneath their roof in ease and plenty.
" I can't," said he. " My country wants my services, Marvin,
and she must have 'em. When the war is over, I may take up with
your kind offer."
The worthy Archie lived to make good his promise. And now,
kind reader, as we have followed Marvin and Cora to a happy
union, and the return of Archie to their hospitable roof, here we
will leave them, while the whole nation will proclaim, with shouts
of joy. Well done, good and faithful Soldieb!

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Wm. GLAND BOURNE, Editor.

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