CONTENTS
I. IN THE VALLEY
II. THE FOOT CAVALRY
III. STONEWALL JACKSON'S MARCH
IV. WAR AND WAITING
V. THE NORTHERN ADVANCE
VI. KERNSTOWN
VII. ON THE RIDGES
VIII. THE MOUNTAIN BATTLE
IX. TURNING ON THE FOE
X. WINCHESTER
XI. THE NIGHT RIDE
XII. THE CLOSING CIRCLE
XIII. THE SULLEN RETREAT
XIV. THE DOUBLE BATTLE
XV. THE SEVEN DAYS
THE SCOUTS OF STONEWALL
CHAPTER I. IN THE VALLEY
A young officer in dingy Confederate gray rode slowly on a powerful
bay horse through a forest of oak. It was a noble woodland, clear of
undergrowth, the fine trees standing in rows, like those of a park. They
were bare of leaves but the winter had been mild so far, and a carpet of
short grass, yet green, covered the ground. To the rider's right flowed
a small river of clear water, one of the beautiful streams of the great
Virginia valleys.
Harry Kenton threw his head back a little and drew deep breaths of the
cool, crisp air. The light wind had the touch of life in it. As the
cool puffs blew upon him and filled his lungs his chest expanded and
his strong pulses beat more strongly. But a boy in years, he had already
done a man's work, and he had been through those deeps of passion and
despair which war alone brings.
A year spent in the open and with few nights under roof had enlarged
Harry Kenton's frame and had colored his face a deep red. His great
ancestor, Henry Ware, had been very fair, and Harry, like him, became
scarlet of cheek under the beat of wind and rain.
Had anyone with a discerning eye been there, to see, he would have
called this youth one of the finest types of the South that rode forth
so boldly to war. He sat his saddle with the ease and grace that come
only of long practice, and he controlled his horse with the slightest
touch of the rein. The open, frank face showed hate of nobody, although
the soul behind it was devoted without any reserve to the cause for
which he fought.
Harry was on scout duty. Although an officer on the staff of Colonel
Talbot, commander of the Invincibles, originally a South Carolina
regiment, he had developed so much skill in forest and field, he had
such acuteness of eye and ear, that he was sent often to seek the camps
of the enemy or to discover his plans. His friends said that these
forest powers were inherited, that they came from some far-away ancestor
who had spent his life in the wilderness, and Harry knew that what they
said was true.
Despite the peaceful aspect of the forest and the lack of human presence
save his own, he rode now on an errand that was full of danger. The
Union camp must lie on the other side of that little river, not many
miles farther on, and he might meet, at any moment, the pickets of the
foe. He meant to take the uttermost risk, but he had no notion of being
captured. He would suffer anything, any chance, rather than that. He had
lately come into contact with a man who had breathed into him the fire
and spirit belonging to legendary heroes. To this man, short of words
and plain of dress, nothing was impossible, and Harry caught from him
not merely the belief, but the conviction also.
