by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XXIX
A PROFESSIONAL VISIT TO THE FORT
Mr. Pennant had some doubts about the correctness of the importantinformation he had obtained, but he was at a loss to know how to verifyit. It was a matter of course that sentinels patrolled the vicinity ofthe fort, or at least the principal approach to it. He decided topostpone his inquiry into this matter till a later hour of the night ormorning.
"Whar you gwine, Massa Ossifer?" asked Uncle Job, after they had walkeda short distance from the negro village.
"Over to the other side of the island," replied the lieutenant.
"Wot you gwine to do ober dar, massa?"
"I want to see what there is over there."
"Dis nigger kin told you wot dar is over dar."
"Well, what is there over there?"
"Dar's a steamer ober dar, an' I speck de Yankee gumboat's gwine indar to look arter dat steamer," said Uncle Job, chuckling as though heenjoyed the prospect of such an event. "Say, Massa Ossifer, is MassaLinkum in yore gumboat?"
"Not exactly; but she is well filled with his people," replied Mr.Pennant, laughing.
"I done wish dat Massa Linkum come down here hisself," added thevenerable colored person.
"He can hardly spare the time to do that; his business is such that hecannot leave," replied the lieutenant, much amused at the simplicity ofthe negro. "Now tell me something more about this steamer in the bay.How big is she?"
"I can't told you 'zackly, massa; she as big as de fort."
"Where did she come from?" asked the lieutenant, who had more confidencein the honesty than in the intelligence of Job.
"I dunno, massa; but she done come in from de sea. When she git off dartwo mile she done stick in de mud," answered the negro, pointing in thedirection of the bar. "Den de little steamers from up the bay take offde loadin', and she done come in."
"With what was she loaded?"
"All sorts o' tings, massa; guns, and pistols, and close. Dis niggerhelp take de tings out ob her."
"What is she doing now in the bay?"
"Loadin' wid cotton de steamers fotch down."
"Where does she lie now?"
"Jes' off de ole Fort Lafitte, whar de water's deep."
In less than half an hour the party reached the locality indicated byJob. The officer could see the steamer which looked, in the gloom of thenight, as though she was a craft of about five hundred tons. She wasmoored in the deep water so far in that she could not be seen by vesselsin the offing. On each side of her was a small river steamer, and sheseemed not to have completed her cargo.
"Do you know the name of that steamer, Uncle Job," inquired Mr. Pennant.
"Yes, sar; I knows it like my own name, but I can't spoke it if I diefor't," answered Job, laughing.
"Try to do so."
"No use, Massa Ossifer; dis nigger don't hab teef enough to do dat."
"Can't you spell it?"
"No, sar; can't spell noffin."
But Job was very obliging, and he made a hissing sound, followed by aneffort to sneeze which was a failure. Then he hissed some more, thoughthe loss of his front teeth interfered with the effort. Then he said"fing."
"I know what he means," interposed the Russian. "I know that steamer,for she came in at Cedar Keys when I was there. He means the Sphinx."
"Dat's it, Massa Ossifer!" exclaimed Job, apparently delighted to findthat he had made himself understood.
"Has she any big guns?"
"Yes, sar; she done h'ist two out ob her innards, and done took two morefrom de fort."
"All right; I think we understand the situation up here," said Mr.Pennant, as he led the way in the direction from which they had come.
They returned to the negro village, for the commander of the expeditiondid not feel as though he had yet finished his mission on shore.
"Mind yore eye, Massa Gumboat!" exclaimed Job, in a low tone, but withgreat earnestness.
"Dar's somebody comin' from de fort! He's comin' mighty quick shore."
The negro hurried the officer and Mike into one of the cabins, andshoved them into a sort of closet, while he went to the door himself. Hepassed out into the lane, as the man came into it from the middle of thefield, for he had not been near enough to the shore to discover theboat.
"Who dar?" called Job.
"Soldier from the fort," replied the man. "What are you doing out hereat this time of night?"
"I done get sick, massa, and I's gwine up to de big house to see dedoctor," replied the negro, who probably used the first excuse that cameinto his head.
"The doctor!" exclaimed the soldier. "Is there a doctor there?"
"I reckon dar's one dar if he done habn't leabe yisterday."
"Then you can do my errand for me," added the soldier.
"Yes, sar; what's dat, massa?"
"One of our men is very sick, and we have no doctor. We are afraid hewill die before morning, and we want a doctor. Ours was ordered off aweek ago."
"I go for de doctor if he's dar," said Job.
"Very well; I will go back and tell the sick man the doctor's coming,"added the soldier. "That will give him a hope, if nothing more."
"Dis nigger's 'feered de doctor done gone away."
"If he isn't there, we can't have him; but hurry up, Uncle Job, and comeover and tell us if he isn't there," said the soldier, as he hurriedaway as rapidly as he came, evidently believing that hope was a panaceato a sick man.
As the soldier did not offer to come into the cabin, Mr. Pennant hadcome out of his hiding-place, and had heard all that was said by thesoldier, even while he was in concealment.
"Is there any doctor at the big house?" asked the lieutenant as soon asJob entered the house.
"No, sar; all de family done leave, an' was gwine to New Orleans. Artera while I go to de fort and tell de sodgers the doctor done gone,"replied Job.
"I will go with you, Uncle Job," added Mr. Pennant quietly.
"You, Massa Gumboat!" cried the negro. "De sodgers put de bagonet frouyour crop like a knife frou a pullet's froat!"
"Not if you tell them I am the doctor," added the lieutenant.
"De doctor! Be you a doctor, sar?"
"I have done something in the business, and perhaps I can cure the manwho is sick, if they have the proper medicine," added the officer.
"Dey hab de medicine at de big house."
"Can you get into it?"
"Yes, sar; de oberseer's sick abed, and dis nigger go right in likemassa hisself," replied Job, as he led the way in the direction of theplanter's house.
The Russian was sent to the boat to await the return of the lieutenant;but he was instructed not to open his mouth to his shipmates in regardto what had been done on the island. Job found a way to get into the bighouse, and conducted the officer to the dispensary, where he had sooften gone for remedies for his ailments. He found what he wanted, andthen he felt reasonably certain that he should make a success of hisprofessional visit to the soldier. He took several small bottles ofmedicines in addition to the particular one upon which he depended.
Job conducted him to the fort, which was over a mile distant. Thelieutenant was not dressed in his uniform with the shoulder straps,though he had procured one from the store ship at the station; but hehad adjusted his garments to the needs of the occasion, so that, ifcaptured he could hardly be recognized as a Union officer. But he hadhis navy revolvers in his hip pockets, though they were covered by theskirts of the frock coat he wore, for he had borrowed this garment ofthe surgeon.
At the principal entrance of the fort they were challenged by thesentinel. Mr. Pennant was somewhat afraid his northern dialect wouldbetray him, for he was not a highly educated man, though he wasexceedingly well informed in all matters pertaining to the duties ofa shipmaster.
"Stand! Who comes there?" said the sentinel.
"Friends," replied the lieutenant.
"Advance, friends, and give the countersign!"
"We have no countersign to give."
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"Who are you?" demanded the soldier.
"Dr. Waterton," answered Mr. Pennant, giving the first name that cameinto his head, for the medical title was the essential thing.
"All right, doctor; I have been directed to admit you. Pass in, sir."
Job was familiar with the interior of the fort, and he led the way; butbefore they had crossed the parade, the soldier who had gone for thedoctor came to them, and conducted them to a casemate, where the sicksoldier was still suffering terrible pains.
"Lieutenant Fourchon, this is the doctor; but I do not know his name,"said the soldier.
"Dr. Waterton," added Mr. Pennant.
"I am glad to see you, Dr. Waterton, for I have exhausted all myremedies," said Lieutenant Fourchon. "I was not born to be a doctor.The patient seems to be no better."
"It does not look like a very bad case," added the doctor, finding itnecessary to say something, as he felt the pulse of the sufferer.
Though the lieutenant of the Bronx was not a physician, he was notaltogether a pretender, for in the capacity of mate and temporarycommander, he had done duty in the healing art in the absence of a moreskilful person.
"A glass of water and a teaspoon," said he to the soldier-nurse; andthey were promptly brought to him.
The doctor took from his pocket a small bottle of chloroform he hadobtained from the big house, and dropped a quantity of it into theteaspoon. Mixing it with a little water in a glass, he gave it to thepatient, who swallowed it quickly in spite of its burning taste.
"Now a piece of flannel," added the doctor.
Upon this when it was brought he dropped a quantity of the chloroform,and applied it to the seat of the pain. In a moment the soldier criedout against the burning heat of the remedy; but the practitionerinsisted that it should remain a while longer. But he relieved him ofit in a short time.
"How do you feel?" asked the doctor.
"Better; a great deal better," replied the patient.
In fact, in less than an hour he said he was entirely relieved from thesevere pain. He was very grateful to the doctor, whom no one suspectedof being a Yankee gunboat officer.
"I had the same thing once before, and I was sure I should die with itthis time," said the sick soldier, "It lasted me all night and part ofthe next day the other time."
"I am afraid you did not have a very skilful doctor at that time,"replied the practitioner with a smile.
Lieutenant Fourchon pressed the hand of the doctor, and left thecasemate with him.
