Two days of searching the north woods produced nothing more than a detailed knowledge of the northern half of the island. The missing prisoners were gone, vanished like some cheap carnival magic trick. By the time two days passed, everyone on the island knew men were missing.
Wild speculation abounded, and it took all of Robert’s power of persuasion to convince the prisoners that the Union guards had nothing to do with the missing men. General Cornell addresses the troops at morning muster, hoping to put fears to rest but only calmed the men slightly. Robert wondered how much more the men could endure before they revolted.
Robert began his own investigation of the recent events. Quiet inquiry revealed witnesses who saw Lieutenant Pace’s actions on the day of the quarry flooding, all reports confirming Robert’s own memory. Pace had only forced his way a few yards onto the west wall, but the break had occurred near the Union troops. The question remained; why did the Lieutenant behave oddly before the collapse and why did he still behave strangely?
To make matters worse, the man appeared near the lighthouse in the deep of the night, the same glowering figure that most of the men had seen, staring balefully at the prisoner’s then retreating into the night. The next morning, a gear to rotate the light was missing. It took no leap of imagination for the men to attribute the disappearance of men and material to the Lieutenant. The mood of the men grew hostile and insubordinate toward the Union guards.
Searches of the north woods revealed several suitable locations for low-roofed cabins to act as shelters should the prisoners need to hide from the Union troops. He directed men to the project from several teams, Robert hoping to have the first few cabins ready in two weeks.
The new graveyard was growing quickly as remains were recovered; most of the dead were unrecognizable from the battering they received. There were no reports of sinking bodies, as if the display intended only for Robert.
The lull in odd activity and sightings persuaded Robert to keep his opinions private and avoid discussing spiritual activity with his superiors. But there was a concern he intended to discuss at the mighty campfire.
Happily, the Tulip arrived a few days after the encampment at the north pond. The brig had been near overflowing with food.
Captain Marsch understood the situation immediately, his shock apparent. It was half an hour before the captain stopped staring at the remains of the island’s population. In an informal meeting with Colonel Beltram, they decided the rest of the stone money would purchase supplies and lighthouse parts. A rapid turnaround required the Tulip sail to several cities to gather food, the captain estimating a two-week trip.
Men swarmed onto the Tulip and hurriedly unloaded the cargo, the ship’s crew donating a wide variety of tools to the prisoners. The Tulip departed within a few hours, the huge captain waving farewell from the brig’s stern. Losing an evening chatting with Captain Marsch sat heavily on the senior officers.
The mood had followed the men to their nightly gathering at the Colonel’s hut.
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Sergeant Burns had bundled Colonel Beltram in several blankets, then allowed the colonel to sit beside the fire. Beltram held his habitual pipe and seemed more animated each day, the colonel’s improving health one of the few pleasant events occurring on the island.
Robert inquired about the Robber King.
“I hardly recall where I heard the story,” Colonel Beltram admitted. “It is a common story hereabout. I felt General Cornell might enjoy the tale.”
“Indeed.” The general agreed with a shrug. “It is simply a story told to titillate the unwary. It means nothing more.”
“Is this what you think of late at night, Major?” Colonel Beltram coughed, the discussion pausing as the prisoners waited for the man to recover.
“A man has to consider something.”
“It is my experience that tales change over time,” General Cornell observed. “I recall hearing several versions of battles I have witnessed. The telling depends on where you are and how you interpret the event.”
“I originally thought we won Antietam.” Beltram nodded.
“As I did,” Robert gave a nod. “I can see your point, sir, but still wonder what the original story was.”
“Sergeant,” Colonel Beltram summoned Sergeant Burns with a wave of his pipe. “Don’t we have a private from this area?”
“Yes Sir. Private Holm of Superior.”
“Have someone fetch him, please.”
“Of course, sir,” the sergeant walked to one of the officers’ orderlies. The man hurried off on his task, and Sergeant Burns returned to his customary place at Colonel Beltram’s side.
“Perhaps we can satisfy your curiosity. Until such time, I would like to know how logging progresses in the north woods.”
For a second, Robert thought the colonel knew everything, including the cabins, and was ready to bring the Rebels in line.
“We are felling trees and setting piles of winter wood as quickly as possible,” he said with false ease.
“Forgive my insistence, Major, but I suggest we place all men on logging except those men involved in collecting food.” Colonel Beltram’s tone was kind, allowing Robert to relax. “You have never endured a winter this far north. The temperature can drop alarmingly low. As large as it is, this lake will freeze and become a death trap for any man who dares to walk the ice. Livestock can freeze. It will not be pleasant. I suggest build a few cabins as an emergency shelter for men trapped by sudden weather.”
General Cornell coughed, then rubbed his chin and bowed his head.
Robert paused, then recovered. “We have wintered in the Kentucky Mountains.”
“When I was a child, trees exploded during the dead of the winter,” the colonel shook slightly. “There is no understanding this cold until you experience it, but we can prepare for the worse. Cut as much wood as you can. We will be glad we made the effort.”
“Where did you hear the story of the Robber King?”
The question gave Beltram pause; it was the only method Robert could think of to pull the conversation off the north woods. General Cornell gave Robert a slight nod however, the colonel looked at the two Confederate officers with interest.
Beltram paused for a moment, puffed on his pipe, his brow beetled as he considered the question. Eventually, he looked at General Cornell as he spoke to Robert.
“Perhaps we must carry the wood south until first snow. Building cabins would be a waste of time when no one will be in the north woods during the winter.”
“May I suggest Lieutenant Pace oversee the building of shelters and warehouses at this end of the island?” Robert hoped he was not forcing his luck.
“Of course,” Colonel Beltram hinted a smile. “The work will keep him busy. I will give the Lieutenant his orders when he returns to camp.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Robert now understood the colonel knew about the cabins and would keep Pace away from the north woods. Beltram was helping the Rebel’s survive.
“Private Holm is here, sir,” Sergeant Burns announced loudly.
“Come forward Private.” Colonel Beltram spoke softly to Robert, “of course I reserve the right to change my orders if need arises.”
“Yes Sir,” Robert nodded.
If any of the men surrounding the officers understood the conversation, they gave no hint as a tall young man dressed in Union blue stepped to the fire.