30th May, Early morning: A morning as any other

"Good. " He glanced at the boy one last time. They would take him with them. There was no doubt in that. Perhaps after seeing the place where they have found the rifle, his tongue might unravel more secrets and finally be of some use.

"Lets go then." He already began to walk in the direction of the river. They could also look at the most usual place where most of the soldiers would come to fetch water. The water there was not as fast and furious as at a few other places, it was beautifully clear and there was no sand to mar it for those who intended to drink. "He owes us all a drink." He spoke, and sounded more light hearted than he was. A missing rifleman would cast a bad shadow on all of them. And, if it was someone who had caused him to be missed, then not knowing the reason might put all of them and their sweethearts on alert.

"..Gabe, you know him pretty well and... well, yesterday. Did he appear any different than he is usually?"

"Yesterday? No, he seemed pretty much the way he is usu'lly. Whatever's spooked him happened this mornin', I'd say. " He shrugged. "He never looked the sort who'd desert, though - he's been that interested in learnin' to be a Rifleman. An' I don't think he'd let Captain Vickery down willin'ly, I really don't - seems to worship the Captain, almost, he does."

"...Hm.. that is indeed strange then. He looks like a wild.. .wild animal. "He ducked under the branch, still gazed at the ground and studied it to be sure that not a single hint of where the boy had gone, could escape him here. "..most of the time. But, you are right. Captain Vickery could tell him that he would turn into a pumpkin if he disobeys an order and the lad would believe him." He shook his head. If something had gone after Pye, as the injury of the child suggested, were they looking for a concealed dead body a frightened boy on the run, or merely for bits and pieces left of of his flesh.

"The Portuguese. It could not have been them....could it?"

"He ain't that bad. I thought he was all spit an' shine, me - comin' from the 33rd, that ain't hardly surprisin', though." He shrugged. "I ain't heard any Portuguese aroun' here. We'd've heard summat if it was them - if they thought he was a Frog, anyhow. I think he's prob'ly just scared of summat - like a horse that's bin spooked and don't know what it's doin' when it bolts."

He hoped that was the case, anyway - it was probably the excuse that Captain Vickery would take into account the easiest.

"..Have you thought what we're going to tell the Captain.. if we don't find him?" They could claim rather truthfully that they did not know. But what if...

He smiled at Cotton's description, as it fit all too well." Oh, he tried to keep his coat spotless.. even if it was the work of a.."He did not know how to continue in English and shrugged simply. "..Alright. We are nearly there." He motioned towards the glittering water, peacefully passing them to turn and bounce a little further down and some further up the river. The part of its stream was rather shallow, and the other, faster running and not sheltered by rock, was deeper and the water much quicker.

He shook his head. "No. I'm in hopes we do find him, and that pretty quick." He really really didn't want to be the bearer of bad news to the Captain - and what if Pye had just bolted, only to come to his senses later, when he was marked down as a deserter? "Here - don't let's go right to it - circle it a bit an' come from a different direction - it'll help if there's any signs there showin' where he'm gone."

And if he had run in a panic, those signs would be pretty obvious. "The Captain's goin' to be real disappointed if he don't come back, that's for sure."

"..He will. Won't mark it well with the other officers neither." They'd have much to say, and none of it good, Weber expected. The officers were like that. "Alright." He took a greater circle further to the left, reaching the area where the water was just becoming deeper and a cluster of rocks allowed it to pass through. He knelt close to the ground and observed the grass , the branches, even the pattern of the stones, hoping to see a heavier indent somewhere. To the right of him, much further right in the second circle, so to say, the grass was somewhat smooshed as if something had been resting on it. As was the part where a deeper intend was shown in the ground right at the centre of the two search paths.

"Found anything?" They would be compelled to cross to the other side, if finding the water shallow enough. If the boy bolted, that could be the very direction he ran for.

Burke frowned at the river bank, wondering if there were actually anything to be looking for. He cast a glance at the stubbornly silent boy, wondering just what he knew. Sighing, he shook his head. Not likely the lad would help after what he'd seen - not exactly the best way to go about instilling confidence, was it? Particularly if there was something actually wrong...

"Yer man," he said, directing himself to Cotton, who seemed to be the one in charge. "I take it he en't the kind to wander off, aye? I don' suppose any o' ye lads have checked w'the surgeon? Could be wounded or sommat."

Weber knelt by the riverside. Any clues here, could have been caused by the new lad or by any other man, who happened to come fetch the water. He could not be certain. None of them could be. The lad refused to tell them or if he agreed to say something, he was almost certain, that he would lie.

"If he's not in trouble yet.. raising too much alarm, will get him there." He grunted.

Cotton looked up as one of the 95th addressed him. He shook his head. "I'd as soon think Mister Vick'ry'd wander off, alamost, as Pye." He blinked. "The surgeon? Dunno - hadn't even thought about it. S'pose it's possible, like." But Pye had seemed perfectly fit and healthy earlier. If he'd gone off to the surgeon - and without his rifle - something had gone horribly wrong.

He sighed as Weber spoke. "I know, mate - that's why I want to find him, just as quick as we can."

Leaning down to look at tracks in the mud, Burke shrugged.

"Just an idea, so it was," he said. "But, if the lad's as reliable as you say..." he trailed off and shrugged again. It just didn't seem likely that a Rifleman would be hiding and shirking his duty. It just wasn't right.

He squinted at the dirt, and wished that he was better able to judge tracks. He could tell apart them from the boy, but if there was more to be told from it he would never know.

"Nothin' here. Can be safe to say... he didn't go that'a way. Anybody volunteerin' on crossing to the other side?" Weber asked, glancing from the large boulder of a rock, by which he was conducting his inspection. If Pye was not alone, and there was someone who caused injury to Davy, and possibly caused injury to Pye, but not enough that he would remain there,...would they have assaulted the boy here. Would the boy have known them? Was this even the way it played out or was Pye and his fellow, both deserters who botched Davy's nose and then ran?

Burke looked up from the area he'd been staring at and nodded. "Aye, I'll go."

He stood and moved towards a shallower area of the river to cross. There were more footprints there, scuffled and deep in the mud. Burke's brow furrowed, and he bent down again to look more closely.

"Oi!" He called, back to the others. "Where'd the lad point you? Looks like sommat happened over here!"

Moving closer to the river bank, he frowned at the nonsensical chaos in the mud. Prints layered over prints, and a large disturbed place in the mud like something heavy had crashed down there. Looked like it could have been a scuffle.

"He pointed us that a'way." He motioned vaguely to the right of them. Something happened there? He moved after Burke. "What did you find?" He asked, concerned.

Then Davy was not the recipent of Pye's blows. He had had doubt of that earlier, but this finally confirmed Pye's innocence. Or tried to. Damn, if only they were not running out of time. This was best solved among themselves, without officers involved.

Cotton splashed through the stream as well. "Whatever made that, it warn't the boy," he said, and looked around. "Look like... Looks like someone went away carr'ing summat heavy, that's what it looks like to me."

"...Say. Could that something be our missing rifleman?" Anything was possible. "If there was a struggle as you say...then.." But if he was carried away, did that make him dead?

"..The lad didn't look too alarmed. If he's really his friend or some sort of acquaintance then.. we don't yet have a dead rifleman on our hands. Gabe. If the lad got injured.. do you think he would go to the surgeon?" This was getting only more and more complicated.

"Not sure it makes a difference what he would do," Burke pointed out. "If he'd been carried off... might mean yer lad's not able to get himself anywhere." He shrugged. "Doesn't mean he weren't brought there, but if that's really what happened here, it might not have been his choice, aye?"

He squinted at the deep prints leading away from the water. With just how much deeper they were, it could be the added weight of a whole second person. They could very well have been right on that count.

Shrugging again, he said, "Really only one way to find out if that's where he is - going and seeing."

"Lets just hope we are not looking for a dead man. We'll be running late.. and it better not be if Pye is dead." It was a comment coming from the other German, who was itching to return, to see that all his things were packed and that he did not forget something, or miss something that he would later regret in doing.

"Lets follow the tracks. They're evident enough here." Suggested Weber with a nod to what Burke had suggested as well. "Be quick about it."

Dead. For some reason, that prospect hadn't even crossed Cotton's mind.

"The Captain'll be furious if he's got himself deaded somehow," he said. "Them tracks go this way, look - they'm clearer here."

Weber nodded taking to walk alongside Cotton and look at the ground, studying the tracks. "Lets see where they lead to....and hope it's not to pieces of Pye." Somehow that sounded almost funny.

"Whoever did him in,....." He left the rest unsaid. There was still hope, minute yet existent.

'Pieces of Pye' would have been funny - very funny - if the situation wasn't so urgent.

If they didn't find him soon, he'd get marked down as a deserter, whether he was or not. There was nothing any of them could do about that.

Well. Maybe there was. There was a slim chance, a very slim chance, that the Captain would give him a bit more time to get back, if he knew the story. The problem was, that they didn't know the whole story.

"Let's hope he ain't done in, not prop'ly," Cotton said. Nobody could get accused of desertion if they were with the surgeon, after all. And at least these tracks were easy to read now.

There was no guessing whether that was the place, when they arrived at the spot where their fellow rifleman had been beaten worst. There were still strips of cloth remaining on the ground, Strips of uniform and what remained of a shirt. The ground was disturbed in several places, a few patches of grass turned into mud, stones kicked off or loosened from where they were lodged and the bark of a tree seemingly damaged as if something had been made to rub against it.

There were indeed signs of a struggle, and some that indicated that one body must have been tied to the tree before.. it had gone whenever. Weber remained silent, searching the area with his eyes for any clues as to what happened to the body.

"What's all this?" A new Rifleman appeared, his movements loose and unhurried. Three dirty and fraying chevrons adorned his right sleeve. He wore his pack and rifle, all prepared to get on the march, and his gaze passed over the motley collection of Rifleman. The bland expression on his face concealed any trace of thought of feeling. "Lost summat, eh?"

"..No sergeant." It was not an exact lie. It was not something that they lost, nor did hey loose a someone. They were however looking for someone who had disappeared. They did not intend to lie really, but they did not feel keen on sharing their 'secret' with too many willing ears either.

But, if this man might have come across what they were looking for, or if perhaps he had seen something, or perhaps worse,... what if it was him who had attacked the boy. Weber knew enough of the sergeant, to find him familiar, though his uniform was not that of the 60th. Could he be trusted? Surely a sergeant had no quarrel with a young, newly arrived lad.

"No, Sergeant," Cotton replied in turn. There was nothing for it now; they had to head back to camp and pack up, quick, because the rest of the Riflemen would be forming up in preparation for receiving the order of march and marching off. There was no way they could hide Pye's absence now.