“Do ye see anything else?” Reginald asked, following Drew and his light, deeper into the cave.
“Something light colored, back there. I can’t make out what it is, just yet.”
A few more crockery pieces littered the floor, as they made their way to the back, but whatever Reginald stepped on, was different. Too round, for crockery or even a rock. When he kicked it aside, it rolled across the stone floor. Puzzled, he picked it up. It was too smooth for a stone. “Shine yer light on this, Drew.”
He held his palm out, while Drew illuminated the object.
They looked at each other. “What’s a musket ball doing in an almost inaccessible cave, like this?” Drew asked.
Reginald could only shake his head. “I dinnae ken how it got here, but it wasnae in the last couple hundred years.”
“We should probably take a closer look at everything on the way back out,” Drew suggested. “But first, I want to get a look at whatever that light colored stuff is.”
Several feet further in, he raised the light for a broader look.
“Bloody hell!” Reginald’s cry echoed off the cave walls.
“That’s a skeleton!”
Chapter Seventeen
Several seconds passed before Reginald’s pulse returned to normal.
A skeleton.
Who? Why?
Both he and Drew moved closer.
Reginald had seen his share of death. He and his fellow Scotsmen had fallen in waves at Culloden, to be buried in mass graves, some wi’out even a clan marker.
But this? Somehow, it felt sadder. Lonelier.
Even wi’out a physical body, Reginald’s parents had given him a place of honor. A way to be remembered.
This abandoned soul, had nothing. No identity. No honor.
“By the condition this thing is in, it’s been here a long, long time.” Drew did a quick sweep of the back of the cave. “Nothing else around that I can see. But as old as this skeleton looks, nothing would be left, anyway.” He leaned down for a closer look. “All the bones have separated, and it looks awfully fragile. I wonder what happened—if he broke a leg, or something, and couldn’t climb out.”
“Mayhap. Do ye see any breaks?”
With the flashlight, Drew started at the feet and slowly scanned the remains. “No obvious injuries so far, but some of the bones are kind of piled up. Looks like maybe an arm tucked underneath him?” He continued scanning up, past the shoulder bones.
“Och!” Reginald exclaimed when Drew reached the head. “I ken that hole in the back of its skull, is injury enough.”
“I’d say that would do it. What do you think? About the size of a musket ball?”
“Mayhap. But we cannae ken for sure.”
“Shot from behind,” Drew snarled. “What a cowardly act!” Stooping down, he made a closer examination. “I thought there might be something here. Look, Reg, up inside the skull.”
“Och! Ye were right. A musket ball!”
“Maybe it was dark enough the killer missed him the first time, which would account for the one you found. I wonder if there were other wounds.” Drew muttered, peering down through the assemblage of bones.
“Mayhap. ’Twas nowhere for the poor bugger tae run.”
“Oh! My…Reginald?”
