The Second G.A. Henty

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by G. A. Henty


  “Now, Dan, get hold of that head-rope,” Vincent said; “haul her up little by little as the water runs out over the stern.”

  “I should not trouble about the boat, Mr. Wingfield; it is not likely we shall ever want it again.”

  “I was not thinking of the boat; I was thinking of ourselves. If it should happen to be noticed at the next bridge as it drifted down, it would at once suggest to any one on the lookout for us that we had crossed the river; whereas, if we get it among the bushes here, they will believe that we are hidden in the woods or have headed back to the north, and we shall be a long way across the line, I hope, before they give up searching for us in the woods on the other side.”

  “Yes; I didn’t think of that. We will help you with the rope.”

  The boat was very heavy, now that it was full of water. Inch by inch it was pulled up, until the water was all out except near the stern. Dan and Vincent then turned it bottom upward, and it was soon hauled up among the bushes.

  “Now, Miss Kingston, which do you think is our best course? I know nothing whatever of the geography here.”

  “The next town is Mount Pleasant; that is where the Williamsport road passes the railway. If we keep south we shall strike the railway, and that will take us to Mount Pleasant. After that the road goes on to Florence, on the Tennessee River. The only place that I know of on the road is Lawrenceburg. That is about forty miles from here, and I have heard that the Yankees are on the line from there right and left. I believe our troops are at Florence; but I am not sure about that, because both parties are constantly shifting their position, and I hear very little, as you may suppose, of what is being done. Anyhow, I think we cannot do better than go on until we strike the railway, keep along by that till we get within a short distance of Mount Pleasant, and then cross it. After that we can decide whether we will travel by the road or keep on through the woods. But we cannot find our way through the woods at night; we should lose ourselves before we had gone twenty yards.”

  “I am afraid we should, Miss Kingston.”

  “Please call me Lucy,” the girl interrupted. “I am never called anything else, and I am sure this is not a time for ceremony.”

  “I think that it will be better; and will you please call me Vin. It is much shorter and pleasanter using our first names; and as we must pass for brother and sister if we get among the Yankees, it is better to get accustomed to it. I quite agree with you that it will be too dark to find our way through the woods unless we can discover a path.

  “Dan and I will see if we can find one. If we can, I think it will be better to go on a little way at any rate, so as to get our feet warm and let our clothes dry a little.”

  “They will not dry tonight,” Lucy said. “It is so damp in the woods that even if our clothes were dry now they would be wet before morning.”

  “I did not think of that. Yes, in that case I do not see that we should gain anything by going farther; we will push on for two or three hundred yards, if we can, and then we can light a fire without there being any chance of it being seen from the other side.”

  “That would be comfortable, Mr.—I mean Vin,” the girl agreed. “That is, if you are quite sure that it would be safe. I would rather be wet all night than that we should run any risks.”

  “I am sure if we can get a couple of hundred yards into this thick wood the fire would not be seen through it,” Vincent said; “of course I do not mean to make a great bonfire which would light up the forest.”

  For half an hour they forced their way through the bushes, and then Vincent said he was sure that they had come far enough. Finding a small open space, Dan, and Lucy, and the negress set to work collecting leaves and dry sticks. Vincent had still in his pocket the newspaper he had bought in the streets of Nashville, and he always carried lights. A piece of the paper was crumpled up and lighted, a few of the driest leaves they could find dropped upon it, then a few twigs, until at last a good fire was burning.

  “I think that is enough for the present,” Vincent said. “We will keep on adding wood as fast as it burns down, so as to get a great pile of embers, and keep two or three good big logs burning all night.”

  He then gave directions to Dan, who cut a long stick and fastened it to two saplings, one of which grew just in front of the fire. Then he set to work and cut off branches, and laid them sloping against it, and soon had an arbor constructed of sufficient thickness to keep off the night dews.

  “I think you will be snug in there,” Vincent said when he had finished. “The heat of the fire will keep you dry and warm, and if you lie with your heads the other way I think your things will be dry by the morning. Dan and I will lie down by the other side of the fire. We are both accustomed to sleep in the open air, and have done so for months.”

  “Thank you very much,” she said. “Our things are drying already, and I am as warm as a toast; but, indeed, you need not trouble about us. We brought these warm shawls with us on purpose for night-work in the forest. Now, I think we will try the contents of the basket Dan has been carrying.”

  The basket, which was a good-sized one, was opened. Chloe had before starting put all the provisions in the house into it, and it contained three loaves, five or six pounds of bacon, a canister of tea and loaf-sugar, a small kettle, and two pint mugs, besides a number of odds and ends. The kettle Dan had, by Chloe’s direction, filled with water before leaving the river, and this was soon placed among the glowing embers.

  “But you have brought no teapot, Chloe.”

  “Dar was not no room for it, Miss Lucy. We can make tea berry well in de kettle.”

  “So we can. I forgot that. We shall do capitally.”

  The kettle was not long in boiling. Chloe produced some spoons and knives and forks from the basket.

  “Spoons and forks are luxuries, Chloe,” Vincent said laughing. “We could have managed without them.”

  “Yes, sah; but me not going to leave massa’s silver for dose villains to find.”

  Lucy laughed. “At any rate, Chloe, we can turn the silver into money if we run short. Now the kettle is boiling.”

  It was taken off the fire, and Lucy poured some tea into it from the canister, and then proceeded to cut up the bread. A number of slices of bacon had already been cut off, and a stick thrust through them, and Dan, who was squatted at the other side of the fire holding it over the flames, now pronounced them to be ready. The bread served as plates, and the party were soon engaged upon their meal, laughing and talking over it as if it had been an ordinary picnic in the woods, though at times Vincent’s face contracted from the sharp twitching of pain in his shoulder. Vincent and Lucy first drank their tea, and the mugs were then handed to Dan and Chloe.

  “This is great fun,” Lucy said. “If it goes on like it all through our journey we shall have no need to grumble. Shall we Chloe?”

  “If you don’t grumble, Miss Lucy, you may be quite sure dat Chloe will not. But we hab not begun our journey at present; and I spec dat we shall find it pretty hard work before we get to de end. But neber mind dat; anyting is better dan being all by ourselves in dat house. Terrible sponsibility dat.”

  “It was lonely,” the girl said, “and I am glad we are away from it whatever happens. What a day this has been. Who could have dreamed when I got up in the morning that all this would take place before night. It seems almost like a dream, and I can hardly believe”—and here she stopped with a little shiver as she thought of the scene she had passed through with the band of bushwhackers.

  “I would not think anything at all about it,” Vincent said. “And now I should recommend your turning in, and getting to sleep as soon as you can. We will be off at daybreak, and it is just twelve o’clock now.”

  Five minutes later Lucy and her old nurse were snugly ensconced in their little bower, while Vincent and Dan stretched themselves at full length on the other side of the fire. In spite of the pain in his shoulder Vincent dozed off occasionally, but he was heartily glad when he saw
the first gleam of light in the sky. He woke Dan.

  “Dan, do you take the kettle down to the river and fill it. We had better have some breakfast before we make our start. If you can’t find your way back, whistle and I will answer you.”

  Dan, however, had no occasion to give the signal. It took him little more than five minutes to traverse the distance that had occupied them half an hour in the thick darkness, and Vincent was quite surprised when he reappeared again with the kettle. Not until it was boiling, and the bacon was ready, did Vincent raise his voice and call Lucy and the nurse.

  “This is reversing the order of things altogether,” the girl said as she came out and saw breakfast already prepared. “I shall not allow it another time, I can tell you.”

  “We are old campaigners, you see,” Vincent said, “and accustomed to early movements. Now please let us waste no time, as the sooner we are off the better.”

  In a quarter of an hour breakfast was eaten and the basket packed, and they were on their way. Now the bright, glowing light in the east was sufficient guide to them as to the direction they should take, and setting their face to the south they started through the forest. In a quarter of an hour they came upon a little stream running through the wood, and here Vincent suggested that Lucy might like a wash, a suggestion which was gratefully accepted. He and Dan went a short distance down the streamlet, and Vincent bathed his face and head.

  “Dan, I will get you to undo this bandage and get off my coat; then I will make a pad of my handkerchief and dip it in the water and you can lay it on my shoulder, and then help me on again with my coat. My arm is getting horribly painful.”

  Vincent’s right arm was accordingly drawn through the sleeve and the coat turned down so as to enable Dan to lay the wet pad on the shoulder.

  “It has not bled much,” Vincent said, looking down at it.

  “No, sah, not much blood on de shirt.”

  “Pull the coat down as far as the elbow, Dan, and bathe it for a bit.”

  Using his cap as a bailer, Dan bathed the arm for ten minutes, then the wet pad was placed in position, and with some difficulty the coat got on again. The arm was then bandaged across the chest, and they returned to the women, who were beginning to wonder at the delay.

  CHAPTER XIII

  LAID UP

  “You must see a surgeon whatever the risk,” Lucy said when the others joined them, for now that it was light she could see by the paleness of Vincent’s face, and the drawn expression of the mouth, how much he had suffered.

  “You have made so light of your wound that we have not thought of it half as much as we ought to do, and you must have thought me terribly heartless to be laughing and talking when you were in such pain. But it will never do to go on like this; it is quite impossible for you to be traveling so far without having your shoulder properly attended to.”

  “I should certainly be glad to have it looked to,” Vincent replied. “I don’t know whether the bullet’s there or if it has made its way out, and if that could be seen to, and some splints or something of that sort put on to keep things in their right place, no doubt I should be easier; but I don’t see how it is to be managed. At any rate, for the present we must go on, and I would much rather that you said nothing about it. There it is, and fretting over it won’t do it any good, while if you talk of other things I may forget it sometimes.”

  In two hours they came upon the railway, whose course lay diagonally across that they were taking. They followed it until they caught sight of the houses of Mount Pleasant, some two miles away, and then crossed it. After walking some distance farther they came upon a small clearing with a log-hut, containing apparently three or four rooms, in the center.

  “We had better skirt round this,” Vincent suggested.

  “No,” Lucy said in a determined voice. “I have made up my mind I would go to the first place we came to and see whether anything can be done for you. I can see you are in such pain you can hardly walk, and it will be quite impossible for you to go much further. They are sure to be Confederates at heart here, and even if they will not take us in, there is no fear of their betraying us; at any rate we must risk it.”

  Vincent began to remonstrate, but without paying any attention to him the girl left the shelter of the trees and walked straight toward the house. The others followed her. Vincent had opposed her suggestion, but he had for some time acknowledged to himself that he could not go much further. He had been trying to think what had best be done, and had concluded that it would be safest to arrange with some farmer to board Lucy and her nurse for a time, while he himself with Dan went a bit further; and then, if they could get no one to take them in, would camp up in the woods and rest. He decided that in a day or two if no improvement took place in his wound he would give himself up to the Federals at Mount Pleasant, as he would there be able to get his wound attended to.

  “I don’t think there is any one in the house,” Lucy said, looking back over her shoulder; “there is no smoke coming from the chimney, and the shutters are closed, and besides the whole place looks neglected.”

  Upon reaching the door of the house it was evident that it had been deserted. Lucy had now assumed the command.

  “Dan,” she said, “there is no shutter to the window of that upper room. You must manage to climb up there and get in at that window, and then open the door to us.”

  “All right, missie, me manage dat,” Dan said cheerfully. Looking about he soon found a long pole which would answer his purpose, placed the end of this against the window, and climbed up. It was not more than twelve feet above the ground. He broke one of the windows, and inserting his hand undid the fastening and climbed in at the window. A minute later they heard a grating sound, and then the lock shot back under the application of his knife, and the door swung open.

  “That will do nicely,” Lucy said, entering. “We will take possession. If the owners happen to come back we can pay them for the use of the place.”

  The furniture had been removed with the exception of a few of the heavy articles, and Chloe and Lucy at once set to work, and with bunches of long grass swept out one of the rooms. Dan cut a quantity of grass and piled it upon an old bedstead that stood in the corner, and Lucy smoothed it down.

  “Now, sir,” she said peremptorily to Vincent, “you will lie down and keep yourself quiet, but first of all I will cut your coat off.”

  One of the table-knives soon effected the work, and the coat was rolled up as a pillow. Dan removed his boots, and Vincent, who was now beyond even remonstrating, laid himself down on his cool bed.

  “Now, Chloe,” Miss Kingston said when they had left Vincent’s room, “I will leave him to your care. I am sure that you must be thoroughly tired, for I don’t suppose you have walked so many miles since you were a girl.”

  “I is tired, missie; but I am ready to do anyting you want.”

  “I only want you to attend to him, Chloe. First of all you had better make some tea. You know what is a good thing to give for a fever, and if you can find anything in the garden to make a drink of that sort, do; but I hope he will doze off for some time. When you have done, you had better get this place tidy a little; it is in a terrible litter. Evidently no one has been in since they moved out.”

  The room, indeed, was strewed with litter of all sorts, rubbish not worth taking away, old newspapers, and odds and ends of every description. Lucy looked about among these for some time, and with an exclamation of satisfaction at last picked up two crumpled envelopes. They were both addressed “William Jenkins, Woodford, near Mount Pleasant.”

  “That is just what I wanted,” she said.

  “What am you going to do, Miss Lucy?”

  “I am going to Mount Pleasant,” she said.

  “Lor’ a marcy, dearie, you are not going to walk that distance! You must have walked twelve miles already.”

  “I should if it were twice as far, Chloe. There are some things we must get. Don’t look alarmed, I shall take Dan
with me. Now, let me see. In the first place there are lemons for making drink and linseed for poultices, some meat for making broth, and some flour, and other things for ourselves; we may have to stay here for some time. Tell me just what you want and I will get it.”

  Chloe made out a list of necessaries.

  “I sha’n’t be gone long,” the girl said. “If he asks after me or Dan, make out we are looking about the place to see what is useful. Don’t let him know I have gone to Mount Pleasant, it might worry him.”

  Dan at once agreed to accompany the girl to Mount Pleasant when he heard that she was going to get things for his master.

  Looking about he found an old basket among the litter, and they started without delay by the one road from the clearing, which led, they had no doubt, to the town. It was about two miles distant, and was really but a large village. A few Federal soldiers from the camp hard by were lounging about the streets but these paid no attention to them. Lucy soon made her purchases, and then went to the house that had been pointed out to her as being inhabited by the doctor who attended to the needs of the people of Mount Pleasant and the surrounding district. Fortunately he was at home. Lucy looked at him closely as he entered the room and took his seat. He was a middle-aged man with a shrewd face, and she at once felt that she might have confidence in it.

  “Doctor,” she said, “I want you to come out to see some one who is very ill.”

  “What is the matter with him? Or is it him or her?”

  “It is—it’s—” and Lucy hesitated, “a hurt he has got.”

  “A wound, I suppose?” the doctor said quietly. “You may as well tell me at once, as for me to find out when I get there, then I can take whatever is required with me.”

  “Yes, sir. It is a wound,” Lucy said. “His shoulder is broken, I believe, by a pistol bullet.”

  “Umph!” the doctor said. “It might have been worse. Do not hesitate to tell me all about it, young lady. I have had a vast number of cases on hand since these troubles began. By the way, I do not know your face, and I thought I knew every one within fifteen miles around.”

 

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