A HORSEMAN IN THE SKY.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 5802, 20 January 1906, Page 11

A HORSEMAN IN THE SKY.

Hy Ambrose Bierce. Ono sunny afternoon in tbo autumn of tho war 1801 a soldier lay in a dump ot laurel by the side of a ro.u in Western Virginia. He lay at full .length, upon Ids sUwnacli, his feet resting njrnn Uio tow, liis Ihwl uj>on tlie left fomi.nn. His extended right hand Sooeely graupctl Ids rifle. Hut for tie fiomou-ltat methodical djsjKxHitiijn oi Ids limbs and a sliglit rhythndo movmnent of t.bo cartridge box at tho back of Jus belt, lie imgiit have l»een thought to bo dead. He ivas asleep at his post of duty. But if doUeUxl lie isould be dead shortly afterwards, that being tho just and legal penaly of Jiis crime. The clump of laurels in which the criminal lay «':in in tho angle of a road ivhiclt, after afaionding oouJtlilward ca Ktcep acclivity to that point, turned sharply to the ivost, running along tho nummit for perhaps ono immlrrsl There it turneil sotitluvard again and went r.ig/.agging doivmvard Utroiigh H>e forest. At the projection of that second angle was a largo, flat. rock, jutting out from the ridge to the northward, everlooking the deop valley from which the road ascended. 'Jlto rock capiKsl a high cliff: a stone dropped from its outer edge would hare fallen .-sheer downward one thousand feet to tho 'opa of tho pines. The angle where tho soldier lay was on another simr of tho same cliff. Had lie h-v'u awake he would have command’s! a view, not only of the short arm of tho read and tho jutting rock, but of tho entiro profilo of tbo cliff below n. (t might well hare made him giddy to look.

Tho country was wooded everywhere except at tho' bottom of tho valloy tn I ho northward, where thc.ro was a small natural meadow, through which flowed tv stream scarcely viable from tho Valiev's rim. Thin open ground looked hardly larger than an ordinary backyard," hut wan really several acres in extent. Its green was more vivid than that of tho inclosing forest. Away beyond it rose a lino of giant cliffs similar to those upon which wo tro supposed to stand in our survey of the savage scene, and through which tho road had somehow made its climb to tho summit. Tho configuration of tho valley, indeed, was such that from our point of observation it seemed entirely shut in. and one could not but have wondered how tho road which found a way out of it had found a way into it. and whence came and '• hither Went tho waters of tho stream fh.it parted tho meadow two thousand foil below. No country Is so wild and difficult but men will make it a theatre of war; concealed in tho forest at tho bottom of tliat military rat trap. in/vhioh half a hundred men in. possession of <h) exits might have starved an army to submission, lay live regiments of Federal infantry- They had morened all tho previous day and night and won) resting. At nightfall they would take 1o tlm read again, climb to the place where their unfaithful sentinel now slept, aed descending the other slope of tho ridge, fall upon a camp of tho enemy t aiaui midnight. Their hope was to Kurp.ise it. for the road led to the rear of 'i., In case of failure their position would be perilous in the extreme; iiul tad they surely would should accidy.it et vigilance apprise tho enemy of the movement. Tho sleeping sentinel in tho clump of laurel was a young Virginian named Carter Druse. Ho was a son of wealthy parents, all only child, ami had kao-.u. ouch case and cultivation amt high living os wealth and taste w» re able to command in the mountain country of Western Virginia. His homo was but a few miles from where ho row layOno morning he had risen tram <h<: breakfast-table and said, quietly lit gravely, "Father, a Union regiment has arrived at Grafton. I am going to ioiii it." Tint father lifted his loonino head, looked at the son a moment in silence, md replied; "Go, Carter, and, whatever may occur, do what you conceive to be oir duty. Viripmia. to which you are a traitor, must get on without you. Should wo lioth live to tho end of the war we will speak fnrher of tho matter.” By Conscience and courage, hy deed.* of devotion and daring. Druco coon commended himself to his fellows and his officers: -and it was to these qualities ami to some knowledge of tho country that ho owed his selection tor lti« prewont perilous duty at tho extreme outpost. Nevertheless, fatigue had been stronger than resolution, ami be had fallen asleep. What good or bad angel came in a dream to rouse him from hLs state of

crime who shall say? Without a movement, without a sound, in the protound silence and tho langour of tho late afiermxm. some invisible mes'-eriger of i-’-ito touched with unsealing linger the eyes of his consciousness—whispered into the ear of his spirit the mysterious awakening word which no human lips have ever spoken, no human memory ever has recalled. Ho (piie.tly raised his forehead from his arm and looked about the masking stems of tho laurels, instinctively closing his right hand about tho stock of his rifle.

Ills first feeling was a k<octi artistic delight. On a colossal pedestal. tin? clilf. motionless at tlio extreme edge of the capping rock ami sharply outlined a Rain st tho sky, was an equestrian statue of impressive dignity. The figure of the man sat the figure of tho horse, straight and .soldierly, but with tin; repose of a Grecian god carved in the marble which limits the suggestion of activity. Tho grey costume harmoni s'd with its aerial background; tho metal of accoutrement and caparison was softened and subdued by the shadow; the animal’s skin had no points of liigh light. A carbine, strikinglv foreshortened. lay ncrora the pominci of the saddle, kept in place by the right hand grasping it at tho "grip’'; the left hand, holding tho bridlo rein, was ipvisiblo. In silhouette against tho sky. the profile of tho horse was cut with the sharpnetis of a cameo; it looked across the heights of air to the confronting cliff:; beyond. Tho face of the rider, turned slightly to the left, showed only an outline of temple and heard; lie was looking downward to tho bottom of the valley. Magnified by its height against tho sky and by tho soldier's testifying sense of tho formidahlcness of a near enemy, the group appeared of heroic, almost colossal, size. For an instant Druse had a strange, half-defined feeling that ho had slept to tho end of the war and was looking upon a nobio work of art reared upon that commanding eminence* to commemorate tho deeds of a heroic past of which ho had been an inglorious part.

Tho fooling sens dispelled by a slight movement of tho group; the horse, without moving its feet, had drawn its body slightly backward from tho verge; the m:ui remained immobile a.s before. Broad awake and keenly alive to the significance of the situation, Druco now brought tho butt of his rifle against his chock by cautiously pusliing tiio barrel forward through the bushes, cocked tho piece, and, glancing tJirougli tho sights, covered a vital spot of tho horseman's breast. A touch upon tho trigger and all would have been well with Carter Druce. At that instant tho horseman turned his head ami looked in tho direction of his concealed fooman—seemed to look into Ids very face, into his eyre, into his bravo, compassionate heart.. Carter Druse grew dentlijy pale; ho shook in every limb, turned faint, and saw the statuesque group before him as black figures, rising, falling, moving unsteadily in arcs of circles in the fiery sky. His hand fell away from ins weapon, his head slowly dropped until his fare rested on tho leaves in which he lay. This courageous gentleman and hardy soldier was near swooning from the intensity of emotion. It was not for long: in another moment Ids face was raised from earth, his hands resumed their places on tho rifle. Ids forefinger sought tho trigger: mind, heart, ami eyes were cUvar, conscience and reason sound. Ho could not hope to capture that enemy; to alarm him would but semi him dashing to Ids camp with ids fatal nows. Tho duty of the soldier was plain; the man must bo shot dead from ambush—without warning, without a moment’s spiritual preparation, with never so much as an unspoken prayer, ho must be sent to Ids account. lint no—there is a hop': lie may have discovered nothing—perhaps ho is but admiring the sublimity of tho landscape, if ]>ermiUed he may turn and ride carelessly away in tho direction whence ho came. Surely it will be possible to judge nt tho instant of bis withdrawing whether he knows. It may wdl bo that his fixity of attention— Druce turned his head and looked below, through tho deep of air downward. ns from tho surface to tho bottom of a translucent sea. He saw creeping across the green meadow a sinuous line of figures of men and horses—some foolish commander was permitting tho soldiers of his escort to water their beasts in tho open, in plain view from a hundred summits! Druce withdrew his eyes from tho valley and fixed them again upon tho group of mr.n and horse in the sky, and again it was through the sights of his rifle. But this lime his aim was at the horse. fn hit memory, as if they were a divine mandate, rang the words of ins lather at their pan rug. "Whatever may occur, do what yon conceive to bo voile dutv." He was calm now. MU teeth were firmly but rigidly dosed; his nerves I

, ‘. .1 '■ . [)■- V ..,11-nyr. -I ; i; .. [ y -V . : .{ ... : ♦ ‘V I m<<l : -TVav.. 1.. • JJ • ? i.: I - : ..... ; sin. (Jhc -r < : th«* i-V-'j.ti ; ’ i:i a m.hi: • T mlV ... • < k kntr.vb'h'.r. iu’M 1.. |} „. n .| i, n* mvm.m • H th»‘ V.l lls* v, .. , . *.?. hn.l Sl ,ari.. hi* , :h> Tv.-.-r *<:- ■ <T u > :;iail «p--u _...V . ..i (I;.* c.jstr. w* . I:.s.* A- h:M Up |-,in by f .\’ '■> * ■r-iaiU* hi;;:, I,M? I y ut a thn/.v, .. n i’-. 1 .' 1 ’ ,;5 pimvi lh»* {. t r !.!(•' r. i .rc-lw. t Mg U> ”T* Mt ;t E'..Ar ,Vi‘ };!!•: t h;il ;t niH'h- l:.i» -j_u : dv \<f I ’<■]: up :»> vh< ■;••■ it- rut .t . '1 !‘m* th- sky. A r - .nr- av/ay U, mi- rh'A: jt p;- i a (I ;ni. vertical pn>ti!»* a-:,:.*!!!a bn'-k^roui'! of biu<‘ ,-i:y to a point half t:■ ■ • u-.jy '!';'.vii, and of di- tan’ ;: i 1 'l;-o-diy !«*.•. Mu«*. tlaai'-o to tin* oi lii>‘ titv. at ii> b.i*<’. |. in u» ih-.> <nzzy altiuido of ii> •-annnii. tin* otlicoi- .-.r.v an a.>- - .i n:aji on hoi''*'baU.; ridm:*; #hv.vn ii;*o di<- valU*y through St i';i io;t: uj rUJit sal tlu> lUh*r, in military la;din.:i. v.itix a linn real in liio add!- 1 , a -iron:* clutch upon tho lain to hold liE ln*:u too im-j..-t uou.- a pluii;.'o. Tho annuals bt*ly was as level its if every hoof -iroko encountered tho re-M-tani oirrh. Its motions v.-ere thrav* o: a wild gallon hut oven as lie* olih-.-r I'.did they (' ■ iSefl, with till the ilu'o’vii harwy te.ruard a> in the act of alitiiitino iroui n '. -ap. Hu*: llii.s vas a flight! I'illrd vii!i amazement niul terror hy tins npparition of a horseman in the sky—Sm!f be lie vim: him-elf the olu sen scrib.) of hfniio new Apocalypse, the officer was overcome hy th<‘ intensity of his emotions: jus leg* failed him aml he fell. Almost at tlm >aine instant he heard a crashing .-omul in the trees — a sound that died without an echo, and all was still. ’Die officer ro-e to his fee 1 ., trembling. The familiar -eimation of a bruised r-bin refilled lii' dazed tacnltiot--. J’nlling himself together, he ran rapidly ehlujuely away from the cliff to a point a half-mile from its foot ; thereabouts he expected find his man; and thereabouts he naturally failed. In the fleeting instant of his vision his imagination had been so wrought upon by the apparent grace and ease and intention oi the marvellous performance, that it did not occur to him that the line of 'march of aerial cavalry is dhveted downward, ami that he could find tho objects of his search at the very foot of the cluT. A half-hour later he returned to camp. This officer wa* a wise man: he knew better than to tvll an incredible truth. i£e said nothing of what he had M'cn. Hut when the commander acked him if in his scout he had learnt anything of advantage to the expedition, ho answered : ‘‘Ves, sir: there Is m> road leading down into this valley from the southward.” Tho commander, knowing belter, smiled. After firing his Mint private Carter Dnnn reloadM hi-- rifle and resumed Ids watch.* Ten minnt-s had hardly parsed when ■* Ctd-eral sorge;:ut crept r.uitlou.dy to Idm fin bauds and knees. ••Did you (irer’* the sergeant whispered. “Vcs." "At wh.atr" • A hr.n-w. It was .standing on yonder rock—-pretty far out. Veil mn? it no longer there, ft w<*nt over tlie cfilf.’ 1 The sergeant did not understand. '•svoo Itcre, Druse, *’ lie said, after a moment's silence, *’it is no use making a myatony. Was there anybody on the horse?” “Yes.” “Who?” “My father.”