He deemed that on the whole he had fared
well. The great brigand, Robin Hood, had spared his life and he had lost
nothing. The army would replace his weapons and ammunition and he was
glad enough to escape from that terrible forest, even if he were driven
out of it.
Harry watched him until he was out of sight, and then picking up the
rifle and belt of cartridges he fled on soundless feet deeper into the
forest. Two or three hundred yards away he stopped and heard a great
shouting. Michael, no longer covered by a gun, had realized that
something untoward had happened to him, and he was calling to his
comrades. Harry did not know whether Michael would still call the man
who had held him up, Robin Hood, nor did he care. He had secured an
excellent rifle which would be much more useful to him than a shotgun,
and his course still led straight toward the point where he should find
Lee's army on the march. He felt that he ought to throw away the shotgun,
as two weapons were heavy, but he could not make up his mind to do so.
A hundred yards farther and he heard replies to Michael's shouts, and
then several shots, undoubtedly fired by the Union troops themselves,
as signals of alarm. He laughed to himself.
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