CHAPTER IX.
MARA MORLAND’S MISSION.
If it was General Johnston’s aim to draw the Northern troops as near as possible to Atlanta before engaging in the culminating battle, General Sherman, on the other hand, was equally as anxious to meet his foe at an early day and as far from the Confederate arsenal as it might be. Could he shatter Johnston’s army, as he felt confident of doing, his march to the sea would be simply a “walk over.”
The great mountain system of East Tennessee outstretched like a giant arm into the heart of the Confederacy.
Leaving Chattanooga, the natural bastion on the lines of the Georgian communication, Sherman paused at Ringgold, and from this place inaugurated his grand strategic movement.
Through Rocky Face Mountain from the latter place ran a narrow ravine affording the only passage to the eastern valley, on the one hand, and along whose rocky bottom wound the highway and railroad to Dalton.
At the mouth of this valley, called Buzzard’s Roost Gap, Johnston had erected strong defenses by planting his batteries on the rocky spurs of the mountain sides. To make his position doubly certain he had flooded the ravine by dams in the creek.
This position but illustrated Johnston’s entire situation, and Sherman’s practical eye saw that to drive him from his craggy citadel he must make a detour to the south and cut off his communication with Atlanta.
This task was assigned to McPherson.
Thomas meanwhile, to hold the Confederates’ attention in that direction, was to actually storm Buzzard’s Gap.
Schofield was to march against the enemy’s right flank thus adding to the deception of Thomas’ attack.
The purpose in view, however, was for McPherson to reach Reseca, a place about twenty miles south of Dalton, and there fall upon the railroad thus cutting off the Confederate’s supplies.
Intrenching himself there McPherson was to wage war upon Johnston in flank until he would be obliged to turn to grapple with him, when the rear would be open to Thomas and Schofield.
Johnston had received intelligence of the contemplated attack on Buzzard’s Gap as has been shown. Sherman’s real intentions were as yet unknown to him.
We have been thus particular in stating the situation to show the importance of Mara Morland’s mission to Johnston’s quarters on that evening.
“Well, what is your business, sir?” asked General Johnston, without looking up from the chart that he was examining, as Mara in her disguise stood before him.
“Important, sir, if I mistake not. I am the bearer of a message from Boyd Wyman.”
“Boyd Wyman!” exclaimed the general quickly looking up. “Where is he?”
“At the home of Colonel Morland, sir. He is wounded and could not come.”
“So that accounts for his continued absence. I sent him to learn if possible Sherman’s projected plans. I had began to fear that some mischance had overtaken him.”
“He barely escaped with his life, sir; and reached our place this morning unable to go further. Here are the papers, sir, he requested me to hand you.”
General Johnston eagerly took the packet and tearing it open was soon perusing its contents.
Mara saw his countenance change as he read on, and the hand that held the paper trembled.
“Well, well,” he broke forth, at last, “this puts a new phase on the matter. Had I known this an hour earlier my plans would have been laid differently. But better late than never. We have time enough to reach there. Mr. Morland, for that is the name Wyman gives you, you have done us a great service. Any favor I can do you?”
“I would like a pass, sir, so that I can return home.”
“Certainly, and bear my good wishes to Wyman.”
“Thank you. And—and if it is not asking too much,” stammered Mara, “I would like permission to visit Curtis Remington, the captive spy.”
Her heart seemed to stop its beating as she waited for his reply.
The general looked up with a frown.
“I don’t know about that. He was to have been shot at sunset, but some one blundered. Do you know him?”
“I knew him at one time.”
“I see no harm in granting your request, and in consideration of the service you have done us, I will.”
Seizing pen and paper he began to hurriedly write.
“Your full name, please.”
“Mara Morland.”
She could have bitten her tongue out for giving utterance to the name. But it was just as well. “Mara” seemed as appropriate for a man as a woman.
“There you are,” declared the commander, handing her two slips of paper; “good-evening.”
Glad to get away so easy, she passed out of the tent.
Johnston, now familiar with the enemy’s plans, immediately held a council with some of his subordinate officers.
Leaving him to prepare for a meeting with McPherson at Reseca we will follow the fortunes of Mara Morland.
The uppermost thought in her mind now was to rescue Cavalry Curt.
No one knew better than she the peril of the undertaking, and a less brave heart would have shrunk from the attempt.
But one course seemed open to her and she resolved to carry it out.
It was too early in the night, however, for the work to be begun so she sauntered toward her brother’s tent, watchful of all that was transpiring around her.
Passing one of the camp-fires she heard loud voices, and coupled with other names she fancied she heard her own.
Advancing in a listless manner she got within hearing without attracting attention.
The party was composed of a portion of Captain Dermot’s scouting squad.
She saw Lieutenant Logan, easily distinguished by his long, flaxen hair among them.
He was speaking.
She held her breath at the sound of his voice.
“Yes, she is true grit every time. I admired her spunk and I didn’t like her course of action.”
“Think she is spoony on the Yank?”
“Looks like it. But I tell you those Morlands are going to get into trouble, if they ain’t already, over that spy. The captain’s course this afternoon was shameful.”
“S’pose they’ll shoot the spy in the morning?”
“Of course; and I should like the job. Reckon they wouldn’t find me a Freemason—ha—ho! That’s the best joke I have heard lately.”
“Is it true the colonel has sent a man up to old Morland’s?”
“Yes; he smells a rat somewhere. Leastways the major does, and he has put him up to it.”
“By the way, the captain fills his new rank well.”
Hearing nothing more of interest to her, Mara finally turned away to seek Captain Morland’s tent.