The mountaineer's eyes were fixed upon a tall, imperious looking man, whose collar bore the silver stars of a Colonel.
"He has found his man at last," said Harry, noticing his companion's attitude, and picking up his own gun in readiness for what might come.
Fortner half-cocked his rifle, took from its nipple the cap that had been there an hour and flung it away.

He picked the powder out if the tube, replaced it with fresh from his horn, selected another cap carefully, fitted it on the nipple, and let the hammer down with the faintest snap to force it to its place.
His eyes had the look of a rattlesnake's when it coils for a spring, and his breast swelled out as if he was summoning all his strength.

He stepped forward to a tree so lightly that there came no rustle from the dead leaves he trod upon.

Harry took his place on the other side of the tree, and cocked his musket.
So close were they to hundreds of Rebels with arms in their hands, that it seemed simply an invitation to death to call their attention.
Fortner turned and waved Harry back as he heard him approach, but Glen had apparently exhausted all his capacity for fearing, in the march upon Wildcat, and he was now calmly desperate.
The Colonel rode out from the throng toward the level spot at the base of the ledge upon which the two were concealed.

The horse he bestrode was a magnificent thoroughbred, whose fine action could not be concealed, even by his great fatigue.
"Go and find Mars," said the Colonel to an orderly, "and tell him to build a fire against that rock there, and make us some coffee.