Two Little Confederates

by Thomas Nelson Page

  CHAPTER XVII.

  The story of Frank's adventure and courage was the talk of all theOakland plantation. His mother and Cousin Belle both kissed him, andcalled him their little hero. Willy also received a full share ofpraise for his courage.

  About noon there was great commotion among the troops. They were farmore numerous than they had been in the morning, and instead of ridingabout the woods in small bodies, hunting for the concealed soldiers,they were collecting together and preparing to move.

  It was learned that a considerable body of cavalry was passing downthe road by Trinity Church, and that the depot had been burnt againthe night before. Somehow, a rumor got about that the Confederateswere following up the raiders.

  In an hour most of the soldiers went away, but a number still stayedon. Their horses were picketed about the yard feeding; and theythemselves lounged around, making themselves at home in the house, andpulling to pieces the things that were left. They were not, however,as wanton in their destruction as the first set, who had passed by theyear before.

  Among those who yet remained were the little corporal, and the bigyoung soldier who had been so kind to Frank. They were in therear-guard. At length the last man rode off.

  The boys had gone in and out among them, without being molested. Nowand then some rough fellow would swear at them, but for the most parttheir intercourse with the boys was friendly. When, therefore, theyrode off, the boys were allowed by their mother to go and see the mainbody.

  Peter and Cole were with them. They took the main road and followedalong, picking up straps, and cartridges, and all those miscellaneousthings dropped by a large body of troops as they pass along.

  Cartridges were very valuable, as they furnished the only powder andshot the boys could get for hunting, and their supply was out. Thesewere found in unusual numbers. The boys filled their pockets, andfinally filled their sleeves, tying them tightly at the wrist withstrings, so that the contents would not spill out. One of the boysfound even an old pistol, which was considered a great treasure. Hebore it proudly in his belt, and was envied by all the others.

  It was quite late in the afternoon when they thought of turning towardhome, their pockets and sleeves bagging down with the heavymusket-cartridges. They left the Federal rear-guard feeding theirhorses at a great white pile of corn which had been thrown out of thecorn-house of a neighbor, and was scattered all over the ground.

  They crossed a field, descended a hill, and took the main road at itsfoot, just as a body of cavalry came in sight. A small squad, ridingsome little distance in advance of the main body, had already passedby. These were Confederates. The first man they saw, at the head ofthe column by the colonel, was the General, and a little behind himwas none other than Hugh on a gray roan; while not far down the columnrode their friend Tim Mills, looking rusty and sleepy as usual.

  "Goodness! Why, here are the General and Hugh! How in the world didyou get away?" exclaimed the boys.

  They learned that it was a column of cavalry following the line of theraid, and that the General and Hugh had met them and volunteered. Thesoldiers greeted the boys cordially.

  "The Yankees are right up there," said the youngsters.

  "Where? How many? What are they doing?" asked the General.

  "A whole pack of 'em--right up there at the stables, and all about,feeding their horses and sitting all around, and ever so many morehave gone along down the road."

  "Fling the fence down there!" The boys pitched down the rails in twoor three places. An order was passed back, and in an instant a stirof preparation was noticed all down the line of horsemen.

  A courier galloped up the road to recall the advance-guard. The headof the column passed through the gap, and, without waiting for theothers, dashed up the hill at a gallop--the General and the colonel ascore of yards ahead of any of the others.

  "Let's go and see the fight!" cried the boys; and the whole setstarted back up the hill as fast as their legs could carry them.

  "S'pose they shoot! Won't they shoot us?" asked one of the negro boys,in some apprehension. This, though before unthought of, was apossibility, and for a moment brought them down to a slower pace.

  "We can lie flat and peep over the top of the hill." This was Frank'shappy thought, and the party started ahead again. "Let's go aroundthat way." They made a little detour.

  Just before they reached the crest they heard a shot, "bang!"immediately followed by another, "bang!" and in a second more aregular volley began, and was kept up.

  They reached the crest of the hill in time to see the Confederatesgallop up the slope toward the stables, firing their pistols at theblue-coats, who were forming in the edge of a little wood, over beyonda fence, from the other side of which the smoke of their carbines wasrolling. They had evidently started on just as the boys left, andbefore the Confederates came in sight.

  The boys saw their friends dash at this fence, and could distinguishthe General and Hugh, who were still in the lead. Their horses tookthe fence, going over like birds, and others followed,--Tim Millsamong them,--while yet more went through a gate a few yards to oneside.

  "Look at Hugh! Look at Hugh!"

  "Look! That horse has fallen down!" cried one of the boys, as a horsewent down just at the entrance of the wood, rolling over his rider.

  "He's shot!" exclaimed Frank, for neither horse nor rider attempted torise.

  "See; they are running!"

  The little squad of blue-coats were retiring into the woods, with thegrays closely pressing them.

  "Let's cut across and see 'em run 'em over the bridge."

  "Come on!"

  All the little group of spectators, white and black, started as hardas they could go for a path they knew, which led by a short cutthrough the little piece of woods. Beyond lay a field divided by astream, a short distance on the other side of which was a large bodyof woods.

  The popping was still going on furiously in the woods, and bulletswere "zoo-ing" over the fields. But the boys could not see anything,and they did not think about the flying balls.

  They were all excitement at the idea of "our men" whipping the enemy,and they ran with all their might to be in time to see them "chase 'emacross the field."

  The road on which the skirmish took place, and down which the Federalrear-guard had retreated, made a sharp curve beyond the woods, aroundthe bend of a little stream crossed by a small bridge; and the boys,in taking the short cut, had placed the road between themselves andhome; but they did not care about that, for their men were driving theothers. They "just wanted to see it."

  They reached the edge of the field in time to see that the Yankeeswere on the other side of the stream. They knew them to be where puffsof smoke came out of the opposite wood. And the Confederates hadstopped beyond the bridge, and were halted, in some confusion, in thefield.

  The firing was very sharp, and bullets were singing in everydirection. Then the Confederates got together, and went as hard asthey could right at them up to the wood, all along the edge of whichthe smoke was pouring in continuous puffs and with a rattle of shots.They saw several horses fall as the Confederates galloped on, but thesmoke hid most of it. Next they saw a long line of fire appear in thesmoke on both sides of the road, where it entered the wood; then theConfederates stopped, and became all mixed up; a number of horsesgalloped away without their riders, another line of white and redflame came out of the woods, the Confederates began to come back,leaving many horses on the ground, and a body of cavalry in blue coatspoured out of the wood in pursuit.

  "Look! look! They are running--they are beating our men!" exclaimedthe boys. "They have driven 'em back across the bridge!"

  "How many of them there are!"

  "What shall we do? Suppose they see us!"

  "Come on, Mah'srs Frank 'n' Willy, let's go home," said the coloredboys. "They'll shoot us."

  The fight was now in the woods which lay between the boys and theirhome. But just then the gray-coats got together, again turned at theedge of
the wood, and dashed back on their pursuers, and--the smokeand bushes on the stream hid everything. In a second more both emergedon the other side of the smoke and went into the woods on the furtheredge of the field, all in confusion, and leaving on the ground morehorses and men than before.

  "What's them things 'zip-zippin' 'round my ears?" asked one of thenegro boys.

  "Bullets," said Frank, proud of his knowledge.

  "Will they hurt me if they hit me?"

  "LOOK! LOOK! THEY ARE RUNNING! THEY ARE BEATING OURMEN!" EXCLAIMED THE BOYS.]

  "Of course they will. They'll kill you."

  "I'm gwine home," said the boy, and off he started at a trot.

  "Hold on!--We're goin', too; but let's go down this way; this is thebest way."

  They went along the edge of the field, toward the point in the roadwhere the skirmish had been and where the Confederates had rallied.They stopped to listen to the popping in the woods on the other side,and were just saying how glad they were that "our men had whippedthem," when a soldier came along.

  "What in the name of goodness are you boys doing here?" he asked.

  "We're just looking on an' lis'ning," answered the boys meekly.

  "Well, you'd better be getting home as fast as you can. They are toostrong for us, and they'll be driving us back directly, and some ofyou may get killed or run over."

  This was dreadful! Such an idea had never occurred to the boys. Apanic took possession of them.

  "Come on! Let's go home!" This was the universal idea, and in a secondthe whole party were cutting straight for home, utterly stampeded.

  They could readily have found shelter and security back over the hill,from the flying balls; but they preferred to get home, and they madestraight for it. The popping of the guns, which still kept up in thewoods across the little river, now meant to them that the victoriousYankees were driving back their friends. They believed that thebullets which now and then yet whistled over the woods with a long,singing "zoo-ee," were aimed at them. For their lives, then, they ran,expecting to be killed every minute.

  The load of cartridges in their pockets, which they had carried forhours, weighed them down. As they ran they threw these out. Thenfollowed those in their sleeves. Frank and the other boys easily gotrid of theirs, but Willy had tied the strings around his wrists insuch hard knots that he could not possibly untie them. He was fallingbehind.

  Frank heard him call. Without slacking his speed he looked back overhis shoulder. Willy's face was red, and his mouth was twitching. Hewas sobbing a little, and was tearing at the strings with his teeth ashe ran. Then the strings came loose one after the other, thecartridges were shaken out over the ground, and Willy's face at oncecleared up as he ran forward lightened of his load.

  They had passed almost through the narrow skirt of woods where thefirst attack was made, when they heard some one not far from the sideof the road call, "Water!"

  The boys stopped. "What's that?" they asked each other in a startledundertone. A groan came from the same direction, and a voice said,"Oh, for some water!"

  A short, whispered consultation was held.

  "He's right up on that bank. There's a road up there."

  Frank advanced a little; a man was lying somewhat propped up against atree. His eyes were closed, and there was a ghastly wound in his head.

  "Willy, it's a Yankee, and he's shot."

  "Is he dead?" asked the others, in awed voices.

  "No. Let's ask him if he's hurt much."

  They all approached him. His eyes were shut and his face was ashywhite.

  "Willy, it's _my_ Yankee!" exclaimed Frank.

  The wounded man moved his hand at the sound of the voices.

  "Water," he murmured. "Bring me water, for pity's sake!"

  "I'll get you some,--don't you know me? Let me have your canteen,"said Frank, stooping and taking hold of the canteen. It was held byits strap; but the boy whipped out a knife and cut it loose.

  The man tried to speak; but the boys could not understand him.

  "Where are you goin' get it, Frank?" asked the other boys.

  "At the branch down there that runs into the creek."

  "The Yankees'll shoot you down there," objected Peter and Willy.

  "_I_ ain' gwine that way," said Cole.

  The soldier groaned.

  "_I'll_ go with you, Frank," said Willy, who could not stand the sightof the man's suffering.

  "We'll be back directly."

  The two boys darted off, the others following them at a littledistance. They reached the open field. The shooting was still going onin the woods on the other side, but they no longer thought of it. Theyran down the hill and dashed across the little flat to the branch atthe nearest point, washed the blood from the canteen, and filled itwith the cool water.

  "I wish we had something to wash his face with," sighed Willy, "but Ihaven't got a handkerchief."

  "Neither have I." Willy looked thoughtful. A second more and he hadstripped off his light sailor's jacket and dipped it in the water. Thenext minute the two boys were running up the hill again.

  When they reached the spot where the wounded man lay, he had slippeddown and was flat on the ground. His feeble voice still called forwater, but was much weaker than before. Frank stooped and held thecanteen to the man's lips, and he drank. Then Willy and Frank,together, bathed his face with the still dripping cotton jacket. Thisrevived him somewhat; but he did not recognize them and talkedincoherently. They propped up his head.

  "Frank, it's getting mighty late, and we've got to go home," saidWilly.

  The boys' voice or words reached the ears of the wounded man.

  "Take me home," he murmured; "I want some water from the well by thedairy."

  "Give him some more water."

  Willy lifted the canteen. "Here it is."

  The soldier swallowed with difficulty.

  He could not raise his hand now. There was a pause. The boys stoodaround, looking down on him. "I've come back home," he said. His eyeswere closed.

  "He's dreaming," whispered Willy.

  "Did you ever see anybody die?" asked Frank, in a low tone.

  Willy's face paled.

  "No, Frank; let's go home and tell somebody."

  Frank stooped and touched the soldier's face. He was talking all thetime now, though they could not understand everything he said. Theboy's touch seemed to rouse him.

  "It's bedtime," he said, presently. "Kneel down and say your prayersfor Father."

  "Willy, let's say our prayers for him," whispered Frank.

  "I can say, 'Now I lay me.'" But before he could begin,

  "'Now I lay me down to sleep,'" said the soldier tenderly. The boysfollowed him, thinking he had heard them. They did not know that hewas saying--for one whom but that morning he had called "hiscurly-head at home"--the prayer that is common to Virginia and toDelaware, to North and to South, and which no wars can silence and novictories cause to be forgotten.

  The soldier's voice now was growing almost inaudible. He spoke betweenlong-drawn breaths.

  "'If I should die before I wake.'"

  "'If I should die before I wake,'" they repeated, and continued theprayer.

  "'And this I ask for Jesus' sake,'" said the boys, ending. There was along pause. Frank stroked the pale face softly with his hands.

  "'And this I ask for Jesus' sake,'" whispered the lips. Then, verysoftly, "Kiss me good-night."

  "Kiss him, Frank."

  The boy stooped over and kissed the lips that had kissed him in themorning. Willy kissed him, also. The lips moved in a faint smile.

  "God bless----"

  The boys waited,--but that was all. The dusk settled down in thewoods. The prayer was ended.

  "He's dead," said Frank, in deep awe.

  "Frank, aren't you mighty sorry?" asked Willy in a trembling voice.Then he suddenly broke out crying.

  "I don't want him to die! I don't want him to die!"