by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XII
IN THE BURNING COTTON MILL
The two companies were in such positions that Captain Artie's commandwould be the first to receive the charge of the Confederates, who werecoming on yelling like demons. The enemy felt that the chances of escapewere slim, and came on in sheer desperation; and a crowd of desperatemen can accomplish a good deal at times.
But Artie, youthful as he was, did not quail. As rapidly as it could beaccomplished, he wheeled to one side and shouted to his first line to"Take aim--fire!" And the blaze of the carbines caused a temporarycheck.
As the Confederates came on again, the second line emptied theirweapons. Again there was a halt, and the enemy's line split, as thoughthe men had thought better of it and were desirous of running around theUnion soldiers.
Artie saw the movement and turned to Captain Richland. "I can take careof the crowd on the right," he said.
"All right; I'll take that on the left," was the quick reply, and thethird company of the first battalion opened fire, while Artie's commanddouble-quicked to the new position indicated.
Again came a charge against the fourth company. But the force of theConfederates now numbered but eighteen, and with two men shot down theyretreated as quickly as they had charged, and sought shelter behind thecotton mill. Here the first company dislodged them, and then they threwdown their arms.
The other wing, led by the impetuous captain, hurled itself againstCaptain Richland's company. The Confederate leader was supported by halfa dozen "fire-eaters," and about two score men; and although the chargewas not entirely successful, yet in the general melee resulting, thecaptain and about half of those behind him managed to escape. The otherswere either shot down or added to the prisoners previously taken.
The mill was now burning furiously at one end, making one of thehottest fires the Lyon boys had ever witnessed. In it were storedhundreds of bales of cotton which the owners had been trying to work offin one way or another for months, but without success, for the cottontrade of the Southern states was glutted, the blockade runners fromEurope carrying away only a small portion of the product.
"That building is doomed," observed Deck to Artie, who had come up,breathing heavily after his hard work in disarming a burly ruffian whohad tried to cut him down from behind. "We may as well move on with ourprisoners."
Deck had scarcely spoken, when a cry rent the air. The cry came in aman's voice, and was full of agony and terror.
"Help! help! help!"
"The cry comes from the other end of the mill," exclaimed Artie. "Comeon around and see what is up," and he ran off; for he was on foot, aswas also the major.
The end to which the captain had referred was not yet in a blaze, butthe smoke was curling from every opening, showing that the fire wasmaking rapid headway in that direction. Presently came a change in thewind, causing the smoke to veer around.
"It's a man--in that upper window!" ejaculated Artie, pointing with hishand. "Why don't you jump down?" he yelled.
"I can't!" came in a painful gasp. "My leg is caught fast in somemachinery and I can't loosen it. Save me, for the love of Heaven! Don'tlet me die like this--even if I am a Confederate!"
"Caught fast!" echoed Deck. "Can't you break away at all?"
"No! no! Reckon my leg is broken!" The unfortunate one gave a moan ofpain. "Won't you do something for me?"
"I will--if it can be done," answered Deck. He turned to the cavalrymenstanding near. "Boys, have any of you seen a ladder about?"
One and another shook their heads. "There's a box," said one, "but it'snot over three feet high, and the window is twenty feet up."
"The box won't do. How about a rope?"
"Here's a stout cord," said another.
"Not heavy enough."
"Help me--quick! The fire is coming this way!" shrieked the imperilledConfederate. "Save me, and I'll give you all I'm worth!"
"I'm coming!" answered Deck. "I wonder where the stairs are," he halfmuttered, as he turned toward one of the entrances to the mill.
"For gracious' sake, Deck, what are you going to do?" cried Artie.
"Going to that fellow's aid."
"But it's not safe to enter the building. The fire is working this wayjust as hard as it can."
"I'll risk it, Artie; I don't want to see that poor fellow die like arat in a trap."
"Yes, but--but--"
"There is no time to waste, Artie," answered Deck, and breaking awayfrom the hold the captain had taken, he leaped for the wide-open door ofthe mill.
"If he goes, I'll go too," cried Artie, and started to follow the major;but strong hands held him back.
"One is enough," said Captain Abbey. "I trust he is successful."
Captain Richland shook his head seriously. "The fire is sweeping tothis quarter of the building with great swiftness," he remarked.
Into the building rushed Deck, to find himself at once in an atmospherecharged with smoke, yet not so heavily but that he could see about him.To his left was a rough wooden stairway with an iron rod for ahand-rail. Leaping for this, he began to mount the stairs three steps ata time.
The higher up he went, the thicker became the smoke, and on the upperflooring he could scarcely breathe. Bending low, to get the benefit ofany air which might be circulating, he crept along in the direction ofthe Confederate sufferer. He had gone but a dozen steps when he halted.Before him was what appeared to be a solid wooden partition.
"Hi! where are you?" he called out; but the fire had now crept so closethat the crackling of the flames drowned out every other sound. Feelingthat it would be a waste of precious time to remain where he was, he ranalong the wooden barrier from one end to the other. A door at last wasfound, but it was tightly closed and refused to budge.
Taking his sabre, Deck attempted to get it in the crack between the doorand its frame. The point only could be introduced, and not caring tobreak this off, he withdrew the blade. By this time the smoke was makinghim dizzy, and he flew for a window to get some air.
"Help!" he heard the Confederate cry again, and now made a discovery hefancied would be of advantage to him in his endeavor to assist theunfortunate man. The window to which he had made his way was within twofeet of the wooden partition, while the window at which the Confederatewas calling from was an equal distance from the partition, on the otherside. The two windows, therefore, were but four feet apart.
As has been mentioned, it was twenty feet to the ground, a distancegreat enough to cause serious results should the major take a tumble.But Deck did not count the consequences. He was going to help the rebelif he could.
Crawling forth, he turned on the window-sill and stood upright. Theframing was not over six inches in depth and was plain, affording but ascant hold. He had hardly appeared when a shout went up from below."There is the major now!"
"Major, look out there, or you'll break your neck!"
These and other remarks were made, but Deck paid no attention furtherthan to "look out," whatever that might mean. In reality his gaze wasfastened on the window next to him, and now he leaned over and caughthold of the edging. But at this distance the hold was too uncertain tobe depended upon, and he drew back.
The question of what was to be done next was a serious one. The wind hadshifted again, giving a temporary check to the fire in that direction;but it would shift back, and then Deck felt the end of the mill would beclose at hand. He looked at the next window again.
A large nail caught his eye, fastened at the top of the frame. He feltthat this would hold, if only he could reach it. He took off his sabrebelt and examined it.
The belt was strong and so was the buckle, and leaning over he threw oneend of the belt out, not once, but several times. At last a portion ofthe buckle caught over the nail. He pulled on the leather to make sureit would bear his weight, then swung to the sill of the next window withease.
"Thank Heaven!" he heard the Confederate ejaculate. The man had beenholding himself up as far as possible, but had now dropp
ed flat on hisback.
Despite the smoke, the major soon took in the situation. The Confederatehad stepped upon the lever of a compressor; the jaw of the machine hadopened, and his leg had been caught and held. Whether the limb wasbroken or not, the major could not tell; but it was certain theunfortunate one was suffering intense pain, and this, added to hisfright because of the fire, made him truly an object of compassion.
"Can you--you--release me?" he groaned, and he seemed to be on the pointof fainting.
For reply Deck grasped the lever and attempted to force it back. It wasstuck, and he had to exert all his strength to move it even an inch.Seeing an iron rod handy, he used it as another kind of lever, and witha click the jaws of the machine opened, and the Confederate was free.
"What shall I do?" he asked, in a whisper. "I--I can't walk."
"I will carry you," answered Deck. "Wait just a second."
He bounded along the wooden partition to where the door was situated.The air was tremendously hot, and the wind was shifting back. As hegained the door there was a dull booming, as a portion of the flooringin another department of the mill gave way, and the whole structurebegan to shake.
The door was merely latched and he flung it wide open. But this createda draught, and he closed it again; then ran back for the Confederate.The poor fellow had fainted.
The load was a heavy one, but in the excitement Deck could have carriedtwice the weight. Flinging his burden over his right shoulder, hestaggered through the smoke. The room was now ablaze overhead, and thesparks fell thickly upon his unprotected head and neck.
"God see us both through this in safety!" was the silent prayer whichcame from his heart, and now the door was reached again. In a momentmore he stood in the apartment he had first entered. A look ofconsternation spread over his pale, set face.
The fire had been at work overhead, running from end to end of the millroof. Now it had worked its way downward, and that part of the ceilingabove the stairway was a seething and roaring mass of flames and smoke.It looked as if at any instant a portion of the roof might cave in,burying the whole stairway beneath it.
Should he risk a descent? Deck's heart almost stood still as he askedhimself the question. He was brave, even to rashness; but this was verymuch like courting death. For the moment he thought of home, his mother,and of sweet Kate Belthorpe. Should he risk being torn from all that wasdear to him?
Another booming decided him. The fire had come down behind him, cuttingoff his retreat. He must go forward or give up the struggle. Withanother silent prayer that Heaven might guide and protect him, hegrasped his burden closer and advanced to the top of the stairs. Soon hewas hurrying downward as rapidly as the weight on his shoulder wouldpermit. Five steps were passed and he paused.
A blazing board had come down directly in front of him. As he stoodstill, another came down, striking him on the unoccupied shoulder. Hewaited no longer, but, calculating as well as he could, made a cleanleap to the bottom.
Luckily he landed squarely, and, though his burden made him stagger, hedid not fall. As he started for the open doorway, there was a crash, andthe stairway became a thing of the past. The young major had misseddeath by less than five seconds.
How he gained the open air, Deck could not tell afterward. The smoke wasso thick he could not see, and breathing was out of the question. "Outthere--help me!" he yelled, when he saw the light, and then Artie andseveral others ran to his aid. Two cavalrymen took the unconsciousConfederate and laid him on the grass.
"Deck, are you hurt?" asked the young captain, anxiously, seeing howpale the young officer was. The major could not stand upright.
"Hurt? No--I'm--I'm--all right," was the answer; and then the gallantyouth fainted dead away.
With the wounded, he was carried on a stretcher to the nearestambulance. Artie was permitted to go along, and Captain Abbey tookcommand of the battalion. The Confederate was placed among the woundedof his own company.
Colonel Lyon was not near the mill, and it was not until night that heheard Deck was sick. The major did not recover consciousness for anhour, and then it was found he had a fever. That night was an anxiousone for both the colonel and the young captain, and the morning broughtsmall comfort. Deck was out of his mind, and the doctor was afraid hehad inhaled too much smoke, and possibly some of the flames.
"The boy meant well, but he overdid the matter," said Colonel Lyon,sadly. "I warned him over and over again to be more careful; but he wastoo anxious to make a record for himself to listen to me. If anythinghappens to him, what will his mother and the others say?"
