Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/285



T THE schoolhouse, appearing a mere blur on the side of the hill, we turned west, following a narrow weed-grown bridle path through a tangle of second growth timber. Seemingly no one had traveled this way for months, and I had to dismount in order to discover the choked passage. It was small wonder its existence had been overlooked by hurrying Federal scouts, and left unguarded. Benton's cabin had been burned six months ago, Noreen told me, and the old man was believed to be dead. Few others ever used this cut-off, or had occasion to pass this way, and the weeds had quickly taken possession. I was obliged to feel for the worn trail, as it wound here and there along the slope of the hill, and then finally down a shallow depression toward the river bank. The horses stepped cautiously, pressed closely together in the narrow rut, and the only noise was the occasional stumble of a hoof. Where the cabin formerly stood on a point of land, nothing remained visible but a gaunt chimney, and the remnant of a rail fence. I skirted this latter, guided by 267