Pine trees regained footing on the ridge as it grew to their left and edged above the oak trees. They followed the ridge slope north, the pasture and fields to the right growing rocky, the trees getting thicker until dense forest surrounded the travelers. The men were silent, out of habit. This type of forest was an enemy of all soldiers. Men with weapons could easily hide only a few yards away. Battles in the wilderness of Virginia had been like this, entire armies lost in the woods, encountering each other by sheer chance.
These woods were quickly gaining an evil reputation as well. Many of the lumber crews and berry pickers sent to the woods claimed they felt watched and heard odd noises, like screams. It was part of the malaise of the island. If a man might see the Robber King on the southern end of the island at night, here in the north it may be seen during the day. In the north woods, all things seemed possible.
At the end of the column, the Union troops were also uneasy. The Union soldiers held their rifles up and ready, while watching the wood warily. Lieutenant Pace had positioned himself in the center of the Union formation, his hand once again resting on his revolver, his attention not on the prisoners but on the woods as well.
The scout leading the column turned west and climbed up the ridge. From descriptions of the terrain, Robert suspected the pond was almost a mile further. Boulders and stone outcroppings slowly dominated the climb, the moss-covered stone eerily reminiscent of the Devil’s Den at Gettysburg, where many of Robert’s men had died. He could almost hear the shouts and gunfire from that awful day months ago. Pushing back his cap, Robert wiped away the sweat that formed on his forehead and realized he was listening intently to the woods.
In the distance, a man shouted.
Robert’s head jerked toward the scream, mimicking every man in the column.
“Do we have any men out here today?” General Cornell inquired.
“Not that I know of, sir,” turning Robert looked downhill to Lieutenant Pace. “Are any Union troops here today?”
“Just us, Major,” Came Pace’s worried voice.
Robert gestured to two of the Confederate soldiers. “Boys, go see what you can find. Don’t be gone too long.”
They responded with a sketchy salute and worried expressions, then climbed across the slope and disappeared from sight. “Keep going,” Robert motioned to the scout.
They continued the climb; the slope getting steeper until they crested the ridge, a long line of boulders colored by moss and scrub pine. Below lay the pond, sheltered by a split in the ridge that created another steep slope leading northwest.
Robert could see water below through breaks in the trees, perhaps fifty yards down a slope steeper than the rocks they just climbed.
This was the perfect warren to hide from the Union troops. The thought came unbidden, as if a portion of Robert’s mind was determining battlefield advantage before a coming storm. Menacing shadows filled the woods, but the ridge formed a wall around this valley, and a wall was a defensible position.
General Cornell was also studying the terrain, his jaw clamped on the stem of his pipe and clear blue eyes darting from ridge to ridge. Robert looked back at the column and saw Lieutenant Pace using the opportunity to sit on a boulder and rest, oblivious to the view.
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Smiling, Robert nodded to the scout to begin his descent to the valley floor. The slope was trickier, men hopping from boulder to boulder. The General, a spry man, refused all help and managed the climb with his pipe puffing merrily the entire way. Stonewall Jackson had been like that until he died of a bullet wound, a man who reveled in the army and rough conditions.
“Did you know General Jackson, sir?” Robert asked while negotiating the rocks.
“I had the distinct pleasure of meeting Stonewall twice.” General Cornell slid down the face of a boulder. “He was an imposing man and a brilliant tactician. However, I was more impressed with General Longstreet; he had an amazing knack of anticipating the Federal mind.”
“And General Lee, sir?” One man referred to the Commander of the Army of Virginia.
“He is soft-spoken until battle. A true gentleman and thoughtful commander. I swear he knows the name of every soldier in the army.”
“History will remember General Lee well.” Robert dropped a few feet to the next boulder. Looking downhill, he stopped, Robert’s eyes narrowing as he peered past the trees to understand what he saw.
Noticing Robert’s behavior, the General stopped as well.
“It seems the report was correct,” Robert observed grimly. “I see bodies in the water.”
They descended the hill as rapidly as possible, pushing the final few yards through a wall of evergreens and finally emerging to see a small lake.
“This is a large pond,” General Cornell observed with no sarcasm.
“The pond grew after the quarry filled, sir,” the scout spoke over the noise of Lieutenant Pace forcing his way past the pine trees.
The pond had clearly grown past its shore, engulfing several trees, but tuffs of saw grass protruding from the water suggested the growth had followed a small meadow. Over a dozen bodies floated in the pond, all faced down.
“We need to get them out of there.”
“Yes,” General Cornell shook his head. “They must wait until tomorrow when we can retrieve rope and hooks from the main camp. I think more men as well for the burial party.”
“A return trip?”
“We leave a few men to watch over our unfortunate brothers.” Cornell replied.
The statement drew a decided lack of enthusiasm and frowns as men wondered who would be stuck in this place overnight.
“Volunteer boys,” Robert shouted. “Who’s staying with me?”
The reaction improved when men knew the Major planned to stay. Several men raised their hands.
“You are not staying here, Lieutenant,” General Cornell shook his head. Robert turned to find Lieutenant Pace had moved close, raising his hand. “You need to report to Colonel Beltram as well as perform your duties at camp.” The General lectured Pace as he would a wayward child, clearly annoyed by the Lieutenant’s behavior.
The boy looked at General Cornell defiantly. “I believe that is my decision to make, sir.”
Cornell turned his back on Pace, stoking his pipe stiffly. “Walk with me Major.”
Robert walked with General Cornell, waving the men back and giving no recognition of Pace’s anger as the men formed a barrier to prevent the Union officers following the private discussion.
“I want shelters built out here,” the General spoke around his pipe while gazing into the woods on the far end of the pond. “If worse comes to worse, we can send men here at night to get them away from that man.”
“I can pick locations after you leave.”
“Good.”
This was the moment Robert dreaded. Union and Confederate forces would separate in their mutual quest for survival. The air of shared fate was gone because of a petulant Union officer. From this point on, the Confederate troops were fighting for their own survival.
Oddly, Robert felt hope.
“Come on,” Cornell calmed.
They walked back to the men, the General halting in front of Lieutenant Pace. “If you stay here, lieutenant, you will be responsible for any escaped prisoners.”
Pace looked at Robert in frustration. Clearly the General knew Pace’s weak point.
“Let’s go,” General Cornell gave Robert a nod farewell, then with the scout leading the way, the mass of the party worked their way around the pond, then disappeared into the woods, Lieutenant Pace following angrily.
Pace ordered two of the Union men to stay with the waiting prisoners. They seemed pleased to be rid of the Lieutenant but wary of staying overnight in the woods.
“Are you men good squirrel hunters?”
The Union men looked at Robert in confusion.
“Hell Sir, I’ll help them.” One of the Georgia men said amiably. “Come on, fellas. Let’s hunt supper.”
“The rest of you gather firewood and pine boughs for a lean-to.” Robert added with a smile. For a moment, the tense air of the woods replaced with good humor.