{"id":"01KG8AK9MB8Y4JV8Z06F54M7Z8","cid":"bafkreicoov6bshtx6gtjipmclchgcvvuuyyh4h7wd2na5kvxovpqremjaa","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4034,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:47:58.829Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1G8S4TRWXNCBRKCRKS8","start_line":3927,"text":"  Their pipes they light, they loiter there;\r\n    Then up, and urging still the Guide,\r\n    On, and after Mosby ride.\r\n\r\nThis Guide in frowzy coat of brown,\r\n  And beard of ancient growth and mould,\r\nBestrode a bony steed and strong,\r\nAs suited well with bulk he bore--\r\n  A wheezy man with depth of hold\r\n    Who jouncing went. A staff he swung--\r\n    A wight whom Mosby’s wasp had stung.\r\n\r\nBurnt out and homeless--hunted long!\r\n  That wheeze he caught in autumn-wood\r\nCrouching (a fat man) for his life,\r\nAnd spied his lean son ’mong the crew\r\n  That probed the covert. Ah! black blood\r\n    Was his ’gainst even child and wife--\r\n    Fast friends to Mosby. Such the strife.\r\n\r\nA lad, unhorsed by sliding girths,\r\n  Strains hard to readjust his seat\r\nEre the main body show the gap\r\n’Twixt them and the read-guard; scrub-oaks near\r\n  He sidelong eyes, while hands move fleet;\r\n    Then mounts and spurs. One drop his cap--\r\n    “Let Mosby fine!” nor heeds mishap.\r\n\r\nA gable time-stained peeps through trees:\r\n  “You mind the fight in the haunted house?\r\nThat’s it; we clenched them in the room--\r\nAn ambuscade of ghosts, we thought,\r\n  But proved sly rebels on a house!\r\n    Luke lies in the yard.” The chimneys loom:\r\n    Some muse on Mosby--some on doom.\r\n\r\nLess nimbly now through brakes they wind,\r\n  And ford wild creeks where men have drowned;\r\nThey skirt the pool, a void the fen,\r\nAnd so till night, when down they lie,\r\n  They steeds still saddled, in wooded ground:\r\n    Rein in hand they slumber then,\r\n    Dreaming of Mosby’s cedarn den.\r\n\r\nBut Colonel and Major friendly sat\r\n  Where boughs deformed low made a seat.\r\nThe Young Man talked (all sworded and spurred)\r\nOf the partisan’s blade he longed to win,\r\n  And frays in which he meant to beat.\r\n    The grizzled Major smoked, and heard:\r\n    “But what’s that--Mosby?” “No, a bird.”\r\n\r\nA contrast here like sire and son,\r\n  Hope and Experience sage did meet;\r\nThe Youth was brave, the Senior too;\r\nBut through the Seven Days one had served,\r\n  And gasped with the rear-guard in retreat:\r\n    So he smoked and smoked, and the wreath he blew--\r\n    “Any _sure_ news of Mosby’s crew?”\r\n\r\nHe smoked and smoked, eying the while\r\n  A huge tree hydra-like in growth--\r\nMoon-tinged--with crook’d boughs rent or lopped--\r\nItself a haggard forest. “Come”\r\n  The Colonel cried, “to talk you’re loath;\r\n    D’ye hear? I say he must be stopped,\r\n    This Mosby--caged, and hair close cropped.”\r\n\r\n“Of course; but what’s that dangling there”\r\n  “Where?” “From the tree--that gallows-bough;\r\n A bit of frayed bark, is it not”\r\n“Ay--or a rope; did _we_ hang last?--\r\n  Don’t like my neckerchief any how”\r\n    He loosened it: “O ay, we’ll stop\r\n    This Mosby--but that vile jerk and drop!”[23]\r\n\r\nBy peep of light they feed and ride,\r\n  Gaining a grove’s green edge at morn,\r\nAnd mark the Aldie hills upread\r\nAnd five gigantic horsemen carved\r\n  Clear-cut against the sky withdrawn;\r\n    Are more behind? an open snare?\r\n    Or Mosby’s men but watchmen there?\r\n\r\nThe ravaged land was miles behind,\r\n  And Loudon spread her landscape rare;\r\nOrchards in pleasant lowlands stood,\r\nCows were feeding, a cock loud crew,\r\n  But not a friend at need was there;\r\n    The valley-folk were only good\r\n    To Mosby and his wandering brood.\r\n\r\nWhat best to do? what mean yon men?\r\n  Colonel and Guide their minds compare;\r\nBe sure some looked their Leader through;\r\nDismsounted, on his sword he leaned\r\n  As one who feigns an easy air;\r\n    And yet perplexed he was they knew--\r\n    Perplexed by Mosby’s mountain-crew.\r\n\r\nThe Major hemmed as he would speak,\r\n  But checked himself, and left the ring\r\nOf cavalrymen about their Chief--\r\nYoung courtiers mute who paid their court\r\n  By looking with confidence on their king;\r\n    They knew him brave, foresaw no grief--\r\n    But Mosby--the time to think is brief.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJS1ZA32GPP1TG7F9VNZ1","peer_type":"segment","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1G8S4TRWXNCBRKCRKS8","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AK910JDJAQVPXJZPW2QV1","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:47:59.627Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:01.821Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}