Scoville put the result in the
following words:
"The chance is a good one, I admit. It is quite possible that we
could capture the Johnnies and their horses, but that's not what
we're out for. Besides, I'm too badly broken up. I couldn't ride to-
night. You must go back to camp, and leave me to follow. Chunk here
has provisions for you. Better be moving, for Whately will probably
be out looking for you in the morning."
So it was decided, and the shadows disappeared. Scoville was put
into Aun' Jinkey's bed, the old woman saying that she would sit up
and watch. Chunk rubbed the bruised and aching body of the Union
scout till he fell asleep, and then the tireless negro went to the
spot where the poor horse had died in the stream. He took off the
saddle and bridle. After a little consideration he diverted the
current, then dug a hole on the lower side of the animal, rolled him
into it, and changed the brook back into its old channel. Carefully
obliterating all traces of his work, he returned to the cabin,
bolted the door, lay down against it so that no one could enter, and
was soon asleep.
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