50. CHAPTER L.
BATTLE AT THE BRIDGES.
At sunrise, Bim and his men, and the Wild Western
Scouts, were posted up the river, watching every point
where the enemy would be likely to appear. Nor did they
wait long before parties of the Northern army made their
appearance on the opposite shore. These were mounted on
horses, and rode backwards and forwards along the margin
of the river, until they decided upon the place of passage.
The place once chosen, operations began immediately.
More than fifty thousand men were soon upon the bank
engaged in putting together the bridges which Ruffleton
had provided. The first section (and three distinct bridges
were commenced at the same time) being launched and held
fast by stakes and anchors, the subsequent sections were
taken over them and thrust forth from the ends furthest
out in the stream, and secured in a similar manner.
This occurred some ten miles above Havre de Grace, and
Bim dispatched a messenger with the intelligence to the
President. Then he and Fink concentrated their men on
the southrn shore, among the trees and bushes. As had
been foreseen, it was necessary to send a number of pioneers
to the southern shore, where the current was the swiftest
and the deepest, to make fast the cables or chains and to
provide a landing-place. And soon a number of small
boats, brought thither in wagons, containing two or three
hundred men, approached the grove where the Scouts lay
in ambush.
“Captain Bim,” said Fink, “my Scouts are all beef-winning
marksmen, and we have Minié rifles. Those handsomely
dressed enemies are about nigh enough for us to
pink 'em over. Shall we begin the fun?”
“No, Captain,” said Bim, who felt proud of his superior
knowledge of the military art. “Don't you see the battery?”
“Yes—that is a battery!” replied Fink, gazing at a
formidable array of artillery carriages on the summit of the
opposite bank.
“Well, then, Captain,” said Bim, “if we fire on this
party coming over to us before they land, we shall have a
salute or two from that row of cannon. But if we suffer
these gentlemen to land before we give them a welcome,
then the artillery can't fire on us without firing into them
also. Do you see?”
“Exactly, Captain Bim! I have had no experience
fighting with the big guns. But now I see how it's to be
done. We must use our tomahawks and knives; and we
must meet them out there in the grass.” Between the
grove and the water there was a patch of high grass.
“But how can we get there without being seen?” asked
Bim.
“How? I'll give the order. Scouts!” said he, “Squat!
Snake!”
His order was promptly obeyed, and the Wild Western
Scouts sank out of sight, and the tall grass was moved but
slightly as they glided through it like so many snakes.
“I and my men can't do that!” said Bim. “And they
wouldn't if they could. No, by George! But we'll join
you when the battle begins. We'll dash in with our
swords. But you must excuse us if we can't approach the
enemy like snakes.”
“Do as you like, Captain Bim,” said Fink; “But I'd
rather be taking Abolition scalps than talking here.” Saying
this, Fink joined his men in the grass, where they
awaited the arrival of the unconscious foe.
The Northern Pioneers and Engineers were soon landed
on the Southern shore. But they had not proceeded many
paces in the tall grass before Captain Fink yelled out “Into
'em Scouts, and give 'em —” A moment after a hundred
tomahawks had stricken down that number of men.
Bim rushed forward at the head of his company and completed
the work begun by the Scouts. A few pistol shots
only were fired; and Ruffleton, who sat upon his white
horse, telescope in hand, could hardly distinguish the nature
of the commotion in the grass. But the boats which had
brought over the detachment, pushed out immediately and
returned with all possible expedition to the bridges.
“Captain Fink,” said Bim, standing amid the slain, “I'm
afraid I shall be sick of this business! What is that they
are doing with the enemy's heads?”
“Scalping 'em!” said Fink. “And it aint right!
Scouts! stop that! They've been used to fighting Indians.”
But the order was too late. The Scouts had completed
the work effectually. They had, however, only shaved off
a small particle of skin, about an inch in diameter, from the
crown of each head.
This terrible blow had, unfortunately, fallen upon men of
science, and artisans, many of whom had not sympathized
with the project of invasion, but were constrained by Ruffleton's
officers, in fear of the guillotine, to act as pioneers,
architects, etc. Among these was a gentleman of Southern
birth, who designed flying to the President's standard.
He had been the publisher of an Exploring Expedition, and
the ignorant multitude supposed he would make a good
explorer himself in the enemy's country! He was accordingly
seized, and forced to accompany the pioneers. He
fell before he could make known his condition. But the
Scout that killed him, got a barren scalp—for he was quite
bald.
It was not long before the fate of the detachment was
known on the opposite shore, and the keen eye of Bim
soon perceived that the battery was about to open its fire.
“Gopher!” cried Captain Fink to his Scouts, which
meant that they should disappear as the prairie animal of
that name is in the habit of doing when danger menaces.
In a twinkling the Scouts, and they were imitated this time
by Bim's men, had glided through the grass and the grove,
and found a shelter in a depression of the earth.
Then came a shower of cannon balls crashing through
the trees, followed quickly by such a stunning report as
the Wild Western Scouts had never heard before. For
some time there was no intermission of the fire, but battery
after battery was drawn up on the opposite bank and discharged
in quick succession. The very heavens seemed
rent with the explosions, and the poor Scouts, had they not
been possessed with more than ordinary courage, might
have supposed the destruction of the world was at hand.
None of them, however, having fallen, they soon recovered
their presence of mind—they lifted their heads and ventured
to survey the scene. The opposite side of the river was
enveloped in a cloud of smoke so dense, that it resembled
a thick fog. Not a man or a gun could be seen. But the
fire soon ceased. Not a shot being returned, the Protector
supposed the enemy had been either completely demolished
or had taken to flight.
Nevertheless there had been no relaxation in the work of
pushing forward the sections of the floating bridges; and
Bim and Fink were a little surprised to behold the proximity
of the platforms to the Southern shore.
“Screw sights to four hundred yards!” said Fink. “Every
one of us can hit a button that distance.” The order was
obeyed, and the sharp reports of the Miniés rang through
the valley, and all the foremost workmen, at the end of the
wooden structures, fell upon the platforms of their own
construction. Others took their places, but shared a similar
fate. Thus, for many minutes, the work of thousands was
arrested by two hundred marksmen; and Ruffleton, upon
learning the state of affairs, was thrown into an ungovernable
rage, and ordered forward a thousand sharp-shooters to
fire upon the Scouts from the ends of the bridges.
“Gopher!” said Fink, when he saw the enemy raise their
muskets to fire. “Wait till they're tired of shooting; as
long as they waste powder and ball at us, the bridge can't
grow, and when they stop firing, we'll begin.”
“That's right, Captain!” said Bim. “And it won't be
long before we hear from the President.”
But the Scouts were surprised to see that an expedient
had been adopted which would be likely to baffle their
attempts to stop the operations of the bridge builders.
Temporary defences of planks were erected on the extremity
of each section, and the menacing platforms recommenced
growing in length.
“Captain Bim,” said Fink, who had been some time
adjusting the sights of his rifle, as the wind swept the cloud
of smoke away, “I'm going to risk my reputation.”
“Well, Captain Fink,” responded Bim, “what does that
mean?”
“It means exactly this—I'm going to fire at that head
chief over the river yonder on the white horse, hit or
miss.”
“Then you'd better not fire, Captain,” said Bim, “for
you will miss to a certainty. That man is at least one thousand
yards off.”
“I have gauged my rifle for a thousand yards, and, hit or
miss, I must fire. There's something urging me to do it.”
“Stop a moment, Captain!” said Bim. “Here's a messenger.
What's the news, comrade? Do you come from
the President?” The Lieutenant answered in the affirmative,
and then placed a note in the Captain's hand. It was
from Randolph, directing the detachment under Bim and
Fink to oppose every obstacle to the landing of the enemy,
and promising speedy succor.
Fink drew up his rifle, but after a prolonged and steady
aim, lowered the breech with a sigh. “It's a monstrous
risk!” said he. “But I'll do it presently. If I didn't, the
Scouts would tell the Indians I was afraid of missing. But
what's that?” This question was occasioned by the deep
detonation of distant artillery.
“Hush!” cried Bim, listening attentively. “It is, by
thunder!” cried he. “Hasten back, Lieutenant, and say to
the President that Captain Bim has heard the roar of battle
far up the river. It must be Generals Blount and Crook
fighting Sir Charles Hunt and General Line. Now fire
away, Captain Fink!” he continued, when the Lieutenant
put spurs to his horse.
Captain Fink raised his rifle steadily, and aimed at the
distant target.
