by John McElroy
CHAPTER III. THE PARTNERS GET BACK TO THEIR REGIMENT AT LAST
WITH ALL THEIR RECRUITS.
SI AND SHORTY were too glad to get their boys back, and too eager tofind their regiment, to waste any time in scolding the derelicts.
"Now that you boys have had a good breakfast," Si remarked withan accent of cutting sarcasm, "at the expense of that kind-heartedgentleman, Mr. Billings, I'm goin' to give you a pleasant littleexercise in the shape of a forced march. If you don't make the distancebetween here and the other side o' Rossville Gap quicker'n ary squadhas ever made it I'm much mistaken. Shorty, put yourself on the left andbring up the rear."
"You bet," answered Shorty, "and I'll take durned good care I don't loselittle Pete Skidmore."
"Now," commanded Si, getting a good lay of the ground toward the gap,"Attention. All ready? Forward, march."
He led off with the long march stride of the veteran, and beganthreading his way through the maze of teams, batteries, herds, andmarching men and stragglers with the ease and certainty born of longacquaintance with crowded camps. He dodged around a regiment here,avoided a train there, and slipped through a marching battery at thenext place with a swift, unresting progress that quickly took away theboys' wind and made them pant with the exertion of keeping up.
In the rear was the relentless Shorty.
"Close up, there! Close up!" he kept shouting to those in front. "Don'tallow no gaps between you. Keep marchin' distance--19 inches from backto breast. Come along, Pete. I ain't a-goin' to lose you, no matter whathappens."
"Sarjint," gasped flarry Joslyn, after they had gone a couple of miles,"don't you call this purty fast marchin'?"
"Naah," said Si contemptuously. "We're just crawlin' along. Wait till wegit where it's a little clear, and then we'll go. Here, cut acrost aheado' that battery that's comin' up a-trot."
There was a rush for another mile or two, when there was a momentaryhalt to allow a regiment of cavalry to go by at a quick walk.
"Goodness," murmured Gid Mackall, as he set down the carpet-sack whichhe would persist in carrying, "are they always in a hurry? I s'posedthat when soldiers wuzzent marchin' or fightin' they lay around camp andplayed cards and stole chickens, and wrote letters home, but everybody'round here seems on the dead rush."
"Don't seem to be nobody pic-nickin' as far's I kin see," respondedSi, "but we hain't no time to talk about it now. We must git to therijimint. Forward!"
Another swift push of two or three miles brought them toward the foot ofMission Ridge, and near the little, unpainted frame house which had oncebeen the home of John Ross, the chief of the Cherokees.
"Boys, there's the shebang or palace of the big Injun who used to beking of all these mountains and valleys," said Si, stopping the squad togive them a much needed rest. "He run this whole country, and had Injunsto burn, though he generally preferred to burn them that didn't belongto his church."
"Roasted his neighbors instid o' his friends in a heathen sort of away," continued Shorty.
"What was his name?" inquired Monty Scruggs.
"John Ross."
"Humph, not much of a name," said Monty in a disappointed tone, for hehad been an assiduous reader of dime novels. "'Tain't anything likeas fine as Tecumseh, and Osceola, and Powhatan, and Jibbeninosay, andMan-Afraid-of-Gettin'-His-Neck-Broke. Wasn't much of a big Injun."
"Deed he was," answered Si. "He and his fathers before him run' thiswhole neck o' woods accordin' to the big Injun taste, and give the Armyo' the United States all they wanted to do. Used to knock all the otherInjuns around here about like ten-pins. The Rosses were bosses from theword go."
"Don't sound right, though," said Monty regretfully. "And such ashack as that don't look like the wigwam of a great chief. 'Tain't anydifferent from the hired men's houses on the farms in Injianny."
"Well, all the same, it's got to go for the scene of a cord o'dime novels," said Shorty. "We've brung in civilization and modernimprovements and killed more men around here in a hour o' working timethan the ignorant, screechin' Injuns killed since the flood."
"Do them rijimints look like the 200th Injianny?" anxiously inquiredHarry Joslyn, pointing to some camps on the mountain-side, where the menwere drilling and engaged in other soldierly duties.
"Them," snorted Shorty contemptuously. "Them's only recruits that ain'tgot licked into shape yet. When you see the 200th Injianny you'll see arijimint, I tell you. Best one in the army. You ought to be mighty proudyou got a chanst to git into sich a rijimint."
"We are; we are," the boys assured him. "But we're awful anxious to seejest what it's like."
"Well, you'll see in a little while the boss lot o' boys. Every one of'em fightin' cocks, thoroughbred--not a dunghill feather or strainin the lot. Weeded 'em all out long ago. All straight-cut gentlemen.They'll welcome you like brothers and skin you out of every cent o' yourbounty, if you play cards with 'em. They're a dandy crowd when it comesto fingerin' the pasteboards. They'll be regler fathers to you, but youdon't want to play no cards with 'em."
"I thought you said they wuz all gentlemen and would be regler brothersto us," said Harry Joslyn.
"So they will--so they will. But your brother's the feller that you'vegot to watch clostest when he's settin' in front o' you with one littlepair. He's the feller that's most likely to know all you know about thecards and what he knows besides. They've bin skinnin' one another solong that they'll be as anxious to git at your fresh young blood as aNew Orleans skeeter is to sink into a man just from the North."
"Didn't think they'd allow gambling in so good a regiment as the 200thInd.," remarked Alf Russell, who was a devoted attendant on Sundayschool.
"Don't allow it. It's strictly prohibited."
"But I thought that in the army you carried out orders, if you had tokill men."
"Well, there's orders and orders," said Shorty, philosophically. "Mostof 'em you obey to the last curl on the letter R, and do it with a jump.Some of 'em you obey only when you have to, and take your chances atimproving the State o' Tennessee by buildin' roads and diggin' up stumpsin the parade ground if you're ketched not mindin'. Of them kind is theorders agin gamblin'."
"Shorty, stop talkin' to the boys about gamblin'. I won't have it,"commanded Si. "Boys, you mustn't play cards on no account, especiallywith older men. It's strictly agin orders, besides which I'll break anyo' your necks that I ketch at it. You must take care o' your money andsend it home. Forward, march."
They went up the road from the John Ross house until they came to thatturning off to the right by a sweet gum and a sycamore, as indicated byGen. Sherman, and then began a labored climbing of the rough, stony wayacross Mission Ridge. Si's and Shorty's eagerness to get to the regimentincreased so with their nearness to it that they went at a terrific pacein spite of all obstacles.
"Please, Sarjint," begged Gid Mackall, as they halted for an instantnear a large rock, "need we go quite so fast? We're awfully anxious togit to the regiment, too, but I feel like as if I'd stove two inchesoffen my legs already against them blamed rocks."
"I can't keep up. I can't keep up at all," whimpered little PeteSkidmore. "You are just dead certain to lose me."
"Pull out just a little more, boys," Si said pleasantly. "We must bealmost there. It can't be but a little ways now."
"Close up there in front!" commanded Shorty. "Keep marchin' distance--19inches from back to breast. Come on, Pete. Gi' me your hand; I'll helpyou along."
"I ain't no kid, to be led along by the hand," answered Pete sturdily,refusing the offer. "I'll keep up somehow. But you can't expect my shortlegs to cover as much ground as them telegraph poles o' your'n."
The summit of the ridge was crossed and a number of camps appeared alongthe slope.
"Wonder which one o' them is the 200th Injianny's?" said Si to Shorty.
"I thought the 200th Injianny was so much finer rijimint than anyother that you'd know it at sight," said Harry Joslyn, with a shade ofdisappointment in his voice.
"
I would know it if I was sure I was lookin' at it," answered Shorty."But they seem to have picked out all the best rijimints in the army togo into camp here this side o' Mission Ridge. Mebbe they want to makethe best show to the enemy."
"That looks like the camp o' the 200th Injianny over there," said Si,pointing to the right, after scanning the mountain-side. "See all themred shirts hangin' out to dry? That's Co. A; they run to red flannelshirts like a nigger barber to striped pants."
"No," answered Shorty; "that's that Ohio rijimint, made up o' rollin'mill men and molders. They all wear red flannel shirts. There's the200th Injianny just down there to the left, with all them men on extraduty on the parade ground. I know just the gang. Same old crowd; I kinalmost tell their faces. They've bin runnin' guard, as usual, and comin'back full o' apple-jack and bad language and desire to give the camp aheavy coat o' red paint. Old McBiddle has tried to convince 'em that hewas still runnin' the rijimint, and his idees wuz better 'n theirs, andthere they are. There's Jim Monaghan handlin' that pick as if he wasin the last stages o' consumption. There's Barney' Maguire, pickin' upthree twigs 'bout as big as lead pencils, and solemnly carryin' 'em offthe parade ground as if they wuz fence-rails. I'll just bet a month'spay that's Denny Murphy marchin' up and down there with his knapsackfilled with Tennessee dornicks. Denny's done that feather-weightknapsack trick so often that his shoulders have corns and windgalls on'em, and they always keep a knapsack packed for him at the guard-houseready for one of his Donnybrook fair songs and dances. Mighty good boy,Denny, but he kin git up a red-hotter riot on his share of a canteenof apple-jack than any three men in the rijimint. That feller tied to atree is Tony Wilson. He's refused to dig trenches agin. O, I tell you,they're a daisy lot."
"Shorty," admonished Si. "You mustn't talk that way before the boys.What'll they think o' the rijimint?"
"Think of it?" said Shorty, recovering himself. "They've got to thinkof it as the very best rijimint that ever stood in line-of-battle. I'llpunch the head of any man that says anything to the contrary. Every manin it is a high-toned, Christian gentleman. Mind that, now, every one ofyou brats, and don't you allow nobody to say otherwise."
"No," said Si, after further study of the camps, "neither o' them 's the200th Injianny. They've both got brass bands. Must be new rijimints."
"Say," said Shorty, "there's a royal lookin' rooster standin' up infront of that little house there. Looks as if the house was headquartersfor some highroller, and him doin' Orderly duty. If he knows as much ashe's got style, he knows more'n old Sherman himself. Go up and ask him."
It was the first time in all their service that either of them hadseen a soldier in the full dress prescribed by the United States Armyregulations, and this man had clearly won the coveted detail of Orderlyby competition with his comrades as being the neatest, best-dressedman in the squad. He was a tall, fine-looking young man, wearing whitegloves and a paper collar, with a spotless dress coat buttoned to thechin, his shoes shining like mirrors, his buttons and belt-plates likenew gold, and his regulation hat caught up on the left side with afeather and a gilt eagle. The front of his hat was a mass of giltletters and figures and a bugle, indicating his company, regiment andState. On his breast was a large, red star.
"Jehosephat," sighed Shorty. "I wish I had as many dollars as he hasstyle. Must be one of old Abe's body guards, sent out here with Grant'scommission as Lieutenant-General. Expect that red star passes him onthe railroads and at the hotels. I'd like to play him two games out o'three, cut-throat, for it. I could use it in my business."
"No," said the Orderly to Si, with a strong Yankee twang, "I don't knowa mite about the 200th Ind. Leastwise, I don't remember it. Everybodydown here's from Indiana, Ohio or Illinois. It's one eternal mix, likeUncle Jed Stover's fish--couldn't tell shad, herring nor sprat from oneanother. It seems to me more like a 'tarnal big town-meeting than anarmy. All talk alike, and have got just as much to say; all act alike.Can't tell where an Indiana regiment leaves off and Ohio one begins;can't tell officer from private, everybody dresses as he pleases, andhalf of them don't wear anything to tell where they belong. There wasn'ta corps badge in the whole army when we come here."
"Corps badges--what's them?" asked Si.
"Corps badges? Why this is one," said the man, tapping his red star."This shows I belong to the Twelfth Corps--best corps in the Army of thePotomac, and the First Division--best division in the corps. We have towear them so's to show our General which are his men, and where they be.Haven't you no corps badges?"
"Our General don't have to tag us," said Shorty, who had come up andlistened. "He knows all of us that's worth knowin', and that we'll gowherever he orders us, and stay there till he pulls us off. Our corpsbadge's a full haversack and Springfield rifle sighted up to 1,200yards."
"Well, you do fight in a most amazing way," said the Orderly, cordially."We never believed it of such rag-tag and bobtail until we saw you goup over Mission Ridge. You were all straggling then, but you werestraggling toward the enemy. Never saw such a mob, but it made therebels sick."
"Well, if you'd seen us bustin' your old friend Long-street at SnodgrassHill, you'd seen some hefightin'. We learned him that he wasn'tmonkeyin' with the Army o' the Potomac, but with fellers that wuzdown there for business, and not to wear paper collars and shine theirbuttons. He come at us seven times before we could git that little factthrough his head, and we piled up his dead like cordwood."
"Well, you didn't do any better than we did with Early's men at Gulp'sHill, if we do wear paper collars," returned the other proudly. "Afterwe got through with Johnston's Division you couldn't see the ground infront for the dead and wounded. And none of your men got up on LookoutMountain any quicker'n we did. Paper collars and red stars showed youthe way right along."
"My pardner's only envious because he hain't no paper collars nor fineclothes," said Si, conciliatorily. "I've often told him that if he'dleave chuck-a-luck alone and save his money he'd be able to dressbetter'n Gen. Grant."
"Gen. Grant's no great shakes as a dresser," returned the other. "I wasnever so surprised in my life as one day when I was Orderly at DivisionHeadquarters, and a short man with a red beard, and his clothesspattered with mud, rode up, followed by one Orderly, and said,'Orderly, tell the General that Gen. Grant would like to see him.' Bylooking hard I managed to make out three stars on his shoulder. Why, ifGen. McClellan had been coming you'd have seen him for a mile before hegot there."
"If Gen. Grant put on as much style in proportion to what he done asMcClellan, you could see him as far as the moon," ventured Shorty.
"Well, we're not gettin' to the rijimint," said the impatient Si. "Le'srack on. So long, Orderly. Come and see us in the 200th Injianny andwe'll treat you white. Forward, march!"
"There's a couple of boys comin' up the road. Probably they kin tell uswhere the rijimint is," suggested Shorty.
The two boys were evidently recruits of some months' standing, but notyet considered seasoned soldiers.
"No," they said, "there is no 200th Ind. here now. It was hereyesterday, and was camped right over there, where you see that old camp,but before noon came an order to march with three days' rations and 40rounds. It went out the Lafayette Road, and the boys seemed to thinkthey wuz goin' out to Pigeon Mountain to begin the general advance o'the army, and wuz mightily tickled over it."
"Gone away," said Si, scanning the abandoned camp sadly; "everybodycouldn't have gone. They must've left somebody behind that wasn't ableto travel, and somebody to take care o' 'em. They must've left somerijimintal stuff behind and a guard over it."
"No," the boys assured him. "They broke up camp completely. All thatwasn't able to march was sent to the hospital in Chattynoogy. Everymite of stuff was loaded into wagons and hauled off with 'em. They neverexpected to come back."
"That camp ground don't look as it'd bin occupied for two weeks," saidShorty. "See the ruts made by the rain in the parade ground and thegeneral look o' things. I don't believe the rijimint only left thereyi
sterday. It don't look as if the 200th Injianny ever had sich a camp.It's more like one o' the camps o' them slack-twisted Kaintucky andTennessee rijimints."
"If Oi didn't belave that Si Klegg and Sharty was did intoirely, and uphome in Injianny, Oi'd be sure that was their v'ices," said a voice fromthe thicket by the side of the road. The next instant a redheaded man,with a very distinct map of Ireland in his face, leaped out, shouting:
"Si and Sharty, ye thieves of the worruld, whin did ye get back, and howare yez? Howly saints, but Oi'm glad to see yez."
"Jim Monaghan, you old Erin-go-bragh," said Shorty, putting his armaround the man's neck, "may I never see the back o' my neck, but I'mglad to see you. I was just talkin' about you. I thought I recognizedyou over there in one of the camps, at your favorite occupation of extrydooty, cleanin' up the parade ground."
"No; Oi've not bin on extry doty for narely two wakes now, but it'sabout due. But here comes Barney Maguire and Con Taylor, Tony Wilson andthe rest iv the gang. Lord love yez, but they'll be surely glad to seeyez."
The others came up with a tumultuous welcome to both.
"Where's the camp?" asked Si.
"Jist bey ant--jist bey ant them cedars there--not a musket-shot away,"answered Jim, pointing to the place.
"What'd you mean, you infernal liars, by tellin' us that the rijimintwas gone?" said Shorty, wrathfully to the men whom he had met, and whowere still standing near, looking puzzled at the demonstrations.
"Aisy, now, aisy," said Jim. "We're to blame for that, so we are. Yesay, we wint over by Rossville last night and had a bit av a shindy andcleaned out a sutler's shop. We brought away some av the most illegantwhisky that iver wet a man's lips, and hid it down there in the gulch,where we had jist come back for it. We sane you comin' and thought yezwas the provo-guard after us. Ye say ye stopped there and talked to thatpeacock at the Provo-Marshal's quarters, and we thought yez was gittin'instructions. We sint these rookies out, who we thought nobody'd know,to give you a little fairy story about the rijimint being gone, to throwyou off the scint, until we could finish the liquor."
"Yes, I know," laughed Shorty, "after you'd got the budge down youdidn't care what happened. You're the same old brick-topped ConnaughtRanger."
"You and Si come down into the gulch and jine us."
"Can't think of it for a minute," said Shorty with great self-denial."Don't speak so loud before these boys. They're recruits for therijimint. We must take 'em into camp. We'll see you later."
