The Drummer Boy

by J. T. Trowbridge

  XXIX.

  HOW FRANK GOT NEWS OF HIS BROTHER.

  Frank was already moving off quite as rapidly, but in the oppositedirection. He plunged once more into the swamp, and returned to the spotwhere Jack had fallen. The battle was raging beyond; the troops hadpassed on; the ground was deserted. But there lay Winch's gun; with hiscartridge-box beside it. Near by was Ellis's piece, abandoned where ithad fallen. There, too, lay the red badge which had been shot fromFrank's arm. He picked it up, thinking his mother would like to have himpreserve it.

  Then he slipped on the cartridge-box, and took up Winch's gun; for thiswas the resolution which inspired him--to assume the poltroon's place inthe company, and by his own conduct to atone for the disgrace he hadbrought upon it.

  But the gun-stock was, as has been said, shattered; and Frank could nothave the satisfaction of revenging himself and his comrades for Winch'scowardice with Winch's own gun. So he threw it down, and took up Ellis's,which he found ready loaded and primed.

  While he was examining the piece, he remembered the shots which he hadtaken for spent balls, and bethought him to look around the woods in thedirection from which they had come. Raising his eyes above theundergrowth, he beheld a singular phenomenon.

  At first, he thought it was a wild animal--a coon, or a wildcat, comingdown a tree. Then there were two wildcats, descending together, orpreparing to descend. Then the wildcats became two human legs claspedaround the trunk, and two human arms appeared enjoying an equally closehug above them. The body to which these visible members appertained wasitself invisible, being on the farther side of the trunk.

  "That's the chap that was shooting at us!" was Frank's instantaneousconviction.

  And now he could plainly discern an object slung across the man's back,as his movements swung it around a little to one side. It was thesharpshooter's rifle.

  Frank was so excited that he felt himself trembling--not with fear, butwith the very ardor of his ambition.

  "Since he has had two shots at me, why shouldn't I have as much as one athim?"

  To disable and bring in the rebel who had shot the badge from hisarm--what a triumph!

  But he was not in a good position for an effective shot, even if he couldhave made up his mind to fire at a person who, though without doubt anenemy, was not at the moment defending himself. It seemed, after all, toodreadful a thing deliberately to kill a man.

  Frank's excitement did not embarrass his faculties in the least, but onlyrendered them all the more keenly alive and vigilant. It took him but amoment to decide what to do. Through the swamp he ran with a lightnessand ability of which in calmer moments he would have been scarcelycapable. The exigency of the occasion inspired him. Such leaps he tookover miry places! so safely and swiftly be ran the length of an old mossylog! so nimbly he avoided the undergrowth! and so suddenly he arrived atlast at the tree the rebel was descending!

  For he was a rebel indeed. Frank knew that by his gray uniform and shortjacket. He had been perched in the thick top of a tall pine to pick offour men during the skirmish. It was he who had taken the bark from thetree near Captain Edney's head. It was he who had basely thought toassassinate those who were carrying away the wounded. And now, theadvancing troops having passed him, he was taking advantage of thesolitary situation to slip down the trunk and make his escape through thewoods.

  Unfortunately for him, he could not go up and down trees like a squirrel.He proceeded _hugging_ his way so slowly and laboriously that Frankreached the spot when he was still within a dozen feet of the ground.Hearing a noise, and looking down over his arm, and seeing Frank, hewould have jumped the remainder of the distance. But Frank was preparedfor that.

  "Stop, or I'll fire!"

  Shrill and menacing rang the boy's determined tones through the soul ofthe treed rebel. He saw the gun pointed up at him; so he stopped.

  "What's wanting?" said he, gruffly.

  "I want you to throw down that rifle as quick as ever you can!" criedFrank.

  "What do you want of my rifle?"

  "I've a curiosity to see what sort of a piece you use to shoot at mencarrying off the wounded."

  And the "grayback" (as the boys termed the rebels) could hear the ominousclick of the gun lock in Frank's hands.

  "Was it you I fired at?"

  "Yes, it was; and I'm bound to put lead into you now, if you don't do asI tell you pretty quick!"

  "I can't throw my gun down; I can't get it off," remonstrated the man.

  "You never will come down from that tree alive, unless you do!" saidFrank.

  "Well, take the d----d thing then!" growled the man. And unclasping onearm from the tree, while he held on with the other and his two legs, heslipped the belt over his head, and dropped the gun to the ground. "If ithad been good for any thing, I reckon you wouldn't be here now, botheringme!" he added, significantly.

  "No doubt!" said Frank. "You are brave fellows, to shoot out of trees atmen carrying off the wounded. Wait! I'm not quite ready for you yet."

  And he stood under the tree, with his musket pointed upwards, readycocked, and with the point of the bayonet in rather ticklish proximity tothe most exposed and prominent part of the rebel's person.

  "Ye think I'm going to stick here all day?" growled the desperateclimber.

  "You'll stick there till you throw me down your revolver," Frankresolutely informed him.

  "How do you know I've got a revolver?"

  "I saw your hand make a motion at your pocket. You thought you'd try ashot at me. But you saw at the very next motion you'd be a dead man!"

  "You mean to say you'd blow my brains out?"

  "Yes, if your brains are where my gun is aimed, as I think the brains ofrebels must be, or they never would have seceded."

  Frank's gun, by the way, was aimed at the above mentioned very exposedand prominent part.

  "Grayback" grinned and growled.

  "Come, my young joker, I can't stand this!"

  "You'll have to stand it till you throw down that revolver!"

  "I'm slipping!"

  "Then I'll give you something sharp to slip on!"

  The man felt that he had really betrayed himself by making theinvoluntary movement towards his breast-pocket, which Frank had been tooshrewd not to notice. The cocked gun, and bayonet, and resolute youngface below, were inexorable. So he yielded.

  "Don't throw it towards me! Drop it the other side!" cried the waryFrank.

  The revolver was tossed down. Then Frank stepped back, and let the mandescend from his uncomfortable position.

  "Boy!" said the man, as soon as his feet were safe on the ground, and hecould turn to look at his captor, "I reckon you're a cute 'un! A Yankee,ain't ye?"

  "Yes, and proud to own it!" said Frank. "Keep your distance!"--as the manmade a move to come nearer--"and don't you stoop to touch that gun!"

  "Look here," said the man, coaxingly, "you'd better let me go! I'm outof ammunition, and can't hurt any body. I'll give ye ten dollars if youwill."

  "In confederate shinplasters?"

  The rebel laughed. "No, in Uncle Sam's gold."

  "You don't place a very high value on yourself," said Frank. "You are toomodest."

  "Twenty dollars!"--jingling the money in his pocket. "Come, I'm agentleman at home, and I don't want to go north. Well, say thirtydollars."

  "If you hadn't said you were a gentleman, I might trade," said Frank."But a gentleman is worth more than you bid. You wouldn't insult a negroby offering that for him!"

  "Fifty dollars, then! I see you are sharp at a bargain. And you shallkeep that revolver."

  "I intend to keep this, any way," said Frank, picking it up. "And the gunthat shot at me, too," slinging it on his back.

  The rebel, seeing his determination, rose in his bids at once to ahundred dollars.

  "Not for a hundred thousand!" said Frank, who was now ready to move hisprisoner. "You are going the way my bayonet points, and no other. March!"


  The rebel marched accordingly.

  Frank followed at a distance of two or three paces, prepared at anymoment to use prompt measures in case his prisoner should attempt to turnupon him or make his escape.

  "How many of you fellows are hid around in these trees?" said Frank.

  "Not many just around here--lucky for you!" muttered the disconsolaterebel.

  "Is that your favorite way of fighting?"

  "People fight any way they can when their soil is invaded."

  "What are holes cut in the pine trees for,--foot-holds for climbing?"

  "Holes? them's turpentine boxes!" said the man, in some surprise atFrank's ignorance. "Didn't you ever see turpentine boxes before?"

  "Never till last evening. Is that the way you get turpentine?"

  "That's the way we get turpentine. The sap begins to run and fill theboxes along in March, and when they are full we dip it out with ladlesmade on purpose, and put it into barrels."

  "O, you needn't stop to explain!" cried Frank. "Push ahead!"

  And the rebel pushed ahead.

  It was a moment of unspeakable satisfaction to the drummer boy when hehad brought his prisoner through all the difficulties of the way to theroad. There he had him safe.

  He was now in the midst of shocking and terrible scenes, but he heededthem not as much as he would have heeded the smallest accident to afellow-creature a few hours before. Already he seemed familiar withbattles and all their horrors. Men were hurrying by with medical stores.The wounded were passing, on stretchers, or in the arms of their friends,or limping painfully, ghastly, bleeding, but heroic still. They smiled asthey showed their frightful hurts. One poor fellow had had his arm tornoff by a cannon ball: the flesh hung in strings. Some lay by theroadside, faint from the loss of blood. And all the time the deadly,deafening tumult of the battle went on.

  To guard his prisoner securely was Frank's first thought. But greater,more absorbing even than that, was the wild wish to see the enemies ofhis country defeated, and to share in the glorious victory.

  "Frank Manly! what sort of a beast have you got there?" cried a soldier,returning from the action with a slight wound.

  Frank recognized a member of another company in the same regiment towhich he belonged.

  "I've got a sharpshooter that I've taken prisoner." And he brieflyrelated his adventure, every word of which the rebel, who rather admiredhis youthful captor, voluntarily confirmed.

  "It's just as he tells you," he said, assuming a candid, reckless air. "Iam well enough satisfied. If your men are equal to your boys, I shallhave plenty of company before night."

  "You think we shall have you all prisoners?" inquired Frank, eagerly.

  "This island," replied the rebel, "is a perfect trap. I've known it fromthe beginning. You outnumber us two to one, and if the fight goes againstus, we've no possible chance of escape. We've five thousand men on theisland, and if we're whipped you'll make a pretty respectable bag. Butyou never can conquer us,"--he hastened to add, fearing lest he wasconceding too much.

  "Can't, eh?" laughed Frank. "Where's the last ditch?"

  "Never mind about that," said the prisoner, with a peculiar grin.

  By this time several other stragglers had gathered around them, eager tohear the story of the drummer boy's exploit.

  The rebel had looked curiously at his youthful captor ever since he hadheard him called by name. At length he said:--

  "Have you got a brother in the confederate army?"

  Frank changed color. "Why do you ask that?"

  "Because we have a Captain Manly, from the north somewhere, who looksenough like you to be a pretty near relation."

  Frank trembled with interest as he inquired, "What is his given name?"

  "Captain--Captain _George_ Manly, I'm pretty sure."

  "Yes, sir,"--and sorry tears came into Frank's eyes as he spoke,--"Isuppose I must own he is my brother."

  "Well, you've a smart chance of meeting him, I reckon,--if, as I said,your men are equal to your boys. For he's fighting against you to-day,and he's one of the pluckiest, and he won't run."