by John McElroy
CHAPTER XI. SHORTY GIVES THE BOYS THEIR FIRST LESSON IN FORAGING.
WITH the elasticity of youth the boys slept away their fatigue duringthe night, but woke up the next morning ravenously hungry.
"What in the world are we goin' to do for grub, Si?" asked Shorty, assoon as he got his eyes fairly open.
"Oi know what Oi'm goin' to do," said Hennessey. "Oi'm goin to showthe foinest pace av shprinting back to camp that has been sane in theseparts since our roight bruk that day at Chickamaugy. No grass'll growunder me fate, Oi tell yez. And as I pass through your camp Oi'll foindyer Captain, and tell the fix you're in, and to sind out some rations."
"But even if he does send them at once, they can't git here tillevenin', and I hate powerfully to let him and the rest know that wedidn't have sense enough to take care o' our victuals after we'd drawed'em," said Si.
"If it was only one, or even two days, I'd let the boys starve it out,as a good lesson to 'em," said Shorty. "But three seems like cruelty todumb beasts."
"But what'll they say about us in camp?" groaned Si. "They'll have thegrand laugh on me and you, and every one o' the boys. I'd ruther go onquarter rations for a month than stand the riggin' they'll give us, andhave Capt. McGillicuddy give me one look when he asks the question abouthow we come to lose all our rations so soon? He'll think me a purtySarjint to send out into the country in charge o' men, and you a fineCorpril."
"Say," said Shorty, his face illuminated with a bright idea. "We mightreport the rations 'lost in action.' That'd fix it fine. We had two goodfights, and come out ahead. That'll tickle the Captain so that he won'tbe partickler what we report."
"Hurroo!" echoed Hennessey; "that's the ticket."
"But we didn't lose 'em in action, and to say so'd be a lie," answeredSi, whose conscience had none of the easy elasticity of his partner's."We could report 'em burnt up by lightnin','but we won't. They waslost by sheer, dumbed carelessness, that me and you and the boys shouldknowed better than to've allowed. That's all there is of it, and that'swhat I'm goin' to report, if I have to."
"Great Jehosephat," exploded Shorty; "you kin certainly be thestubbornest mule over nothin', Si Klegg, that I ever seen. We've donefightin' enough to excuse sich a report, or any that we've a mind tomake."
"Nothin' kin justify a lie," persisted the obdurate Si.
"Holy smoke! bigger men than you--lots bigger--have squared up theiraccounts that way. Didn't all the Captains in the rijiment, and theQuartermaster and Commissary, and, for what I know, the Chaplain and theColonel, git clean bills o' health after the battle o' Stone River, byreportin' everything that they couldn't find 'lost in action?'"
"Yis," added Hennessey, "and didn't my Captain, after Chickamaugy, gitus all new uniforms and complete kits, by reportin' iverything 'lost inaction?' Smart man, my Captain, Oi tell yez."
"Well, I don't think any the more o' them for it. We spiled our rationsbefore the fightin' begun, they'd bin spiled if there'd bin no fightin',and I haint going to send no other words, if I've got to send any word."
"Who the divil's goin' to carry this word, Oi'd like to know, MistherKlegg?" broke in Hennessey. "Are you goin' to put words into my mouth,Misther Klegg? Oi'll tell your Captain just fwhat Oi plaze, aboutyou and your foight and your rations. Oi want no more worrids widye. Attintion, min! Shoulder, a-r-m-s! Roight face! Forward, foileleft!--M-a-r-c-h!"
"I s'pose I ain't responsible for any o' the fairy tales with whichthat wild Mick'll fill up the Captain," said Si, self-consolingly, asHennessey and his squad marched away in quick time. "He'll put a rich,red, County Connaught color on everything that's happened out here, andthe Captain'll believe as much as suits him. Anyhow, Hennessey'll notsay anything to our disadvantage, and probably the Captain'll send outsome rations by fast mule express."
"Yes," accorded Shorty; "we'll git some rations from camp by thisevenin'. Cap will look out for that. Meanwhile, I'll take out two orthree o' the boys on a scout into the country, to see if we can't pickup something to eat."
"Humph," said Si, skeptically, "you'll find mighty poor pickin', afterthem Ohio boys 's bin out here three days. What they haint taken hasbeen rooted in the ground."
"Yes; they're awful foragers and thieves," assented Shorty. "All Ohioboys is. I'm glad I'm from Injianny. Still, I've generally bin able tofind something, even after the Ohio boys had bin there."
"Well, I think we'd better first go back and see about them rebels thatwe wounded last night. They may be sufferin' awfully, and we oughtn't tothink about something to eat, before doin' what we kin for them."
"That's so," assented Shorty. "I'd a-gone back last night, but we wasall so dead tired."
"Well, I'll take two o' the boys and go back. You stay here with therest, and hold the mill. I'll git back as soon's I kin, and then you kintake a couple o' the boys and go out foragin'."
Calling Alf Russell and Monty Scruggs to follow him, Si started back tothe scene of the skirmish of the night before. The woods looked totallydifferent, under the bright Spring sunshine, from what they had seemedin the chill, wet blackness of the previous night. Buds were burstingand birds singing, and all nature seemed very blithe and inspiring.
"Gracious, what a difference daylight makes in the woods," murmuredMonty Scruggs. "Tain't a bit like Hohenlinden.
"'Tis morn, but scarce yon lurid sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout 'mid their sulphurous canopy."
"You'd think, from the way the bird 's singing, and the flowersblooming, that there'd never been a gun fired within a hundred miles o'here."
"Seems like we only dreamed all that happened last night," accorded AlfRussell. "There's nothing in the woods or the ground that looks as itdid then, and I can't hardly make myself believe that this is the way wecome."
"Well, here's something that'll convince you it wasn't a dream," saidSi, as they made their way through the broken and trampled brush, andcame to a little knoll, on which the final fight had been made, andwhere were gathered the wounded rebels. There were three of these; theman whom Shorty had shot in the shoulder, the one whom Si knocked downby a stunning blow on the head, and the one who had been hit inthe thigh by a shot from the boys, and who was the "pardner" of therecalcitrant man of the previous evening. He was still there, caring forhis comrades. The men who had been shot were so faint from loss of bloodthat they could scarcely move, and the man whom Si had struck was onlyslowly recovering consciousness.
The unhurt rebel was standing there with his gun in hand, and hadapparently been watching their approach for some time.
"My parole was out at daylight," he said, as they came up. "The sun'snow nearly an hour high. I ain't obleeged to be good no more, and Icould' 've drapped one o' yo'uns when y' fust turned offen the road, andgot away. I s'pose I'd orter've done hit, and I'd a great mind ter, butsuthin' sorter held me back. Onderstand that?"
"You'd a' bin a nice man to've shot at us when we wuz comin' to helpyour comrades," said Si, walking up coolly toward him, and getting nearenough to prevent his leveling his gun, while he held his own readyfor a quick blow with the barrel. "We needn't've come back here at all,except that we felt it right to take care o' the men that got hurt."
"Come back to take keer o' the men that yo'uns swatted last night?" saidthe rebel incredulously. "That haint natural. 'Taint Yankee-like. What'dyo'uns keer for 'em, 'cept to see if they'uns's dead yit, and mebbe gin'em a prod with the bayonit to help 'em along? But they'uns's mouty nighdead, now. They'uns can't last much longer. But I'll kill the fustone o' yo'uns that tries to prod one o' they'uns with a bayonit. Letthey'uns alone. They'll soon be gone."
"What're you talkin' about, you dumbed fool?" said Si, irritably. "Wehaint no Injuns nor heathens, to kill wounded men. We're Injiannians andChristians, what read the Bible, and foller what it says about lovin'your enemies, and carin' for them what despitefully use you--that is,after you've downed 'em good and hard."
"Does your Bible say that ere?" aske
d the rebel.
"Yes, indeed."
"Well, hit must be a new-fangled kind of a Yankee Bible. The only BibleI ever seed was a piece o' one that used t' be in dad's house, and I'vedone heared strangers read hit aloud hundreds o' times, and hit saidnothin' like that. Hit had lots in it 'bout killin' every man andman-child, and hewin' 'em to pieces afore the Lord, but nothin' 'boutlovin' and takin' keer o' them that wuz fernest ye."
"Well, it's in there, all the same," said Si impatiently, "and you mustmind it, same's we do. Come, drop that gun, and help us take care o'these men. They ain't goin' to die. We won't let 'em. They're all right.Just faint from loss o' blood. We kin fix 'em up. Set your gun agin'that beech there, and go to the branch and git some water to wash theirwounds, and we'll bring 'em around all right."
There was something so masterful in Si's way, that the rebel obeyed. Siset his own gun down against a hickory, in easy reach, and had the boysdo the same. He had naturally gained a good deal of knowledge of roughsurgery in the army, and he proceeded to put it to use. He washed thewounds, stayed the flow of blood, and to take the rising fever out ofthe hurts, he bound on them fresh, green dockleaves, wet with water.After the man he had struck had had his face washed, and his headthoroughly doused with cold water, he recovered rapidly and was soonable to sit up, and then rise weakly to his feet.
The rebel looked on wonderingly.
"Well, yo'uns is as good doctrin' hurts as ole Sary Whittleton, andshe's a natural bone-setter," he said.
"Well, don't stand around and gawk,", said Si snappishly. "Help. What'syour name?"
"Gabe Brimster."
"Well, Gabe, go down to the branch and git some more water, quick as youkin move them stumps o' your'n. Give the men all they want to drink,and then pour some on their wounds. Then go there and cut some o' thempawpaws, and peel their bark, to make a litter to carry your pardnerback to the mill. Boys, look around for guns. Smash all you kin find onthat rock there, so they won't be of no more use. Bust the locks good,and bend the barrels. Save two to make the handles of the litter."
Si proceeded to deftly construct a litter out of the two guns, with somesticks that he cut with a knife, and bound with pawpaw strips.
A few days before, Si, while passing near the hospital, saw a weakconvalescent faint and fall. He rushed to the Surgeon's tent, and thatofficer being busy, handed him a small bottle with a metal top, andfilled with strong ammonia, telling him to unscrew the top and hold thebottle under the man's nose. He did so, with the effect of revivinghim. Si thrust the bottle into his pocket, to help the man back tothe hospital, and forgot all about it, until one after another of hispresent patients overdid himself, had a relapse, and fainted away. Sihappened to feel his bottle, drew it out, unscrewed the top, thrust itunder their noses, and revived them.
Gabs's eyes opened wider at each performance. He had never seen a bottlewith a metal top, or one that unscrewed, or anything that seemed toeffect such wonderful changes by merely pointing it at a man. Hismountaineer intellect, prone to "spells" and "charms," saw in it at oncean instrument of morta: witchcraft. With a paling face, he began edgingtoward his gun. Busy as Si had been, he had kept constantly in mind thepossibility of Gabe's attempting some mischief, and did not let himselflose sight of the rebel's gun. He quickly rose, and with a few strides,placed himself between Gabe and his gun.
MR. YANK, DON'T CONJURE ME. 135]
"Where are you goin'?" he said sternly.
"I'm a-gwine away," replied the man, in terror-stricken accents. "I'ma-gwine away mouty quick. I don't want to stay here no longer."
"Indeed you're not goin' away. You'll stay right with us, and help ustake care o' your comrades."
"I'm a-gwine away, I tell y'," shrieked Gabe. "I'm gwine right away.I'm skeered o' yo'uns. Yo'uns is no doctor, nor no sojer. Yo'uns is aconjure-man, and a Yankee conjure-man, too--wust kind. Yo'uns 've binputtin' spells on them men, and yo'uns'll put a spell on me. I've felthit from the fust. I'm a-gwine away. Le'me go, quick."
Si caught the man roughly by the shoulder with his left hand, and raisedhis right threateningly. It still had the bottle in it. "You're notgoin' a step, except with us," he said. "Go back there, and 'tend toyour business as I told you, or I'll break you in two."
The sight of the dreadful bottle pointed at him completely unnerved therebel. He fell on his knees.
"O, Mister Yank--Mister Conjure-man! don't put no spell on me. Pray toGod, don't! I had one on me wunst, when I was little, and liked to'vedied from hit. I haint no real rebel. I wuz conscripted into the army,or I wouldn't be foutin' yo'uns. I won't fout no more, if yo'uns'll notput a spell on me. 'Deed I won't! I swar to God I wont!"
And he raised his right hand in testimony.
"Put a spell on you? Conjure you? What dumbed nonsense!" ejaculated Si,and then his eyes caught the rebel's fastened on the bottle in his hand,and a gleam of the meaning entered his mind. He had no conception ofthe dread the mountaineers have of being "conjured," but he saw thatsomething about the bottle was operating terrifically on the rebel'smind and took advantage of it. He was in too much of a hurry to inquirecritically what it was, but said: "Well, I won't do nothin' to you, solong's you're good, but mind that you're mighty good, and do just as Isay, or I'll fix you. Git up, now, and take hold o' your pardner's feet,and help me lift him on the litter. Then you take hold o' the fronthandles. Monty, throw your gun-sling over your shoulder, and take holdo' the rear handles. The two o' you carry this man back. Alf, throw yourgun-sling over your shoulder, put your arm under this man's, and helphim along. I'll help this man."
They slowly made their way back toward the mill. As they came on thecrest of the last rise, they saw Shorty and the rest eagerly watchingfor them. Shorty and the others ran forward and helped them bring themen in. Shorty was particularly helpful to the man he had shot. Healmost carried him in to the mill, handling him as tenderly as if achild, fixed a comfortable place for him on the floor with his ownblankets, and took the last grains of his coffee to make him a cup. Thisdone, he said:
"I'm goin' out into the country to try and find some chickens to makesome broth for you men. Come along, Harry Joslyn, Gid Mackall and littlePete."
The country roundabout was discouragingly poor, and had been thoroughlyforaged over. But Shorty had a scent for cabins that were hidden awayfrom the common roads, and so escaped the visitations of ordinaryforagers. These were always miserably poor, but generally had ahalf-dozen chickens running about, and a small store of cornmeal andsidemeat. Ordinarily he would have passed one of these in scorn, becauseto take any of their little store would starve the brood of unkemptchildren that always abounded. But now, they were his hope. He had beenplaying poker recently with his usual success, and as the bets were inConfederate money, he had accumulated quite a wad of promises to "Pay ingold, six months after the ratification of a Treaty of Peace betweenthe Confederate States and the United States." He would make somemountaineer family supremely happy by giving them more money than theyhad ever seen in their lives, in exchange for their stock of meal,chickens and sidemeat. They would know where to get more, and so thetransaction would be a pleasant one all around.
In the meanwhile, little Pete had visions of killing big game in themountain woods. The interminable forest suggested to him dreams of bear,deer, buffalo, elk, and all the animals he had read about. It would bea great thing to bring down an elk or a deer with his Springfield rifle,and then be escorted back' to camp in triumph, with the other boyscarrying his game. He kept circling through the woods, in sight orhearing of the others, expecting every minute to come upon some animalthat would fill his youthful sanguine hopes.
Shorty at last found a poor little cabin such as he had been lookingfor. It was hidden away in a little cove, and had never been visitedby the men of either army. It had the usual occupants--a weak-eyed,ague-smitten man, who was so physically worthless that even therebel conscripters rejected him; a tall, gaunt woman, with a viciousshrillness in her voice and a pipe in her mouth; a half
score of mangyyellow dogs, and an equal number of wild, long-haired, staring children.They had a little "jag" of meal in a bag, a piece of sidemeat, and ahalf-dozen chickens. The man had that morning shot an opossum, lean fromits Winter fasting. Shorty rejected this contemptuously.
"I've bin mighty hungry in my time," said he, "but I never got quiteso low down as to eat anything with a tail like a rat. That'd turn mystummick if I was famishin'."
The man looked on Shorty's display of wealth with lack-luster eyes, buthis wife was fascinated, and quickly closed up a deal which conveyed toShorty all the food that they had. Just as Shorty had completed payment,there came a shot from little Pete's rifle, and the next instant thatyouth appeared at the edge of the cornpatch extending up hill from thecabin, hatless, and yelling at the top of his voice. Shorty and theothers picked up their guns and took position behind the trees.
"What's the matter, Pete?" asked Shorty, as the boy came up, breathlessfrom his long run. "Rebels out there?"
"No," gasped Pete. "I was hunting out there for a deer, or a elk, ora bear, when suddenly I come acrost the queerest kind of an animal. Itlooked more like a hog than anything else, yet it wasn't a hog, for itwas thinner'n a cat. It had long white tusks, longer'n your hand, thatcurled up from its mouth, little eyes that flashed fire, and great longbristles on his back, that stood straight up. I shot at it and missedit, and then it run straight at me. I made for the fence as hard as Icould, but it outrun me and was gaining on me every jump. Just as I climthe fence it a-most ketched me, and made a nip not six inches from myleg. I could hear him gnash them awful tusks o' his'n."
"Humph," said the woman. "He's run acrost Stevenson's old boar, thatruns in them woods up thar, and is mouty savage this time o' year. He'dtake a laig offen a youngster quicker'n scat, if he ketched him. He donewell to run."
Shorty and the others walked up to the fence and looked over. There wasthe old razor-back King of the woods still raging around sniffing theair of combat.
"Why, it's only a hog, Pete!" said Shorty.
"Only a hog!" murmured Pete with shamed heart.
"That a hog?" echoed the others. "Well, that's the queerest looking hogI ever saw."
"It's a hog all the same," Shorty assured them. "A genuine razor-backhog. But he's got the secession devil in him like the people, and youwant to be careful of him. He ain't fit to eat or I'd kill him. Let'sgit back to the mill."
