A Rebellion in Dixie by Harry Castlemon (elon musk reading list txt) 📗
- Author: Harry Castlemon
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“If that spy was in the bushes and saw us when we went by, what was the reason he didn’t jump out and grab us?” said Tom.
188“Perhaps he was alone,” said Leon, who would have felt safer if that spy, whoever he was, had been among his friends. “He wants more help before he attempts to arrest us.”
“Now, boys, let’s keep perfectly still and ride up to the house as though we had a right there,” said Dawson. “You are not afraid to shoot, are you, Tom?”
“All I ask of you is to give me a chance,” returned Tom, indignantly. “Anything to keep from being made prisoner.”
The boys relapsed into silence again, and presently drew up before the gate which gave entrance into the door-yard. It was an old-fashioned gate, and was held in place by a wooden pin, which was thrust into an auger-hole. The horse Dawson rode showed that he was accustomed to that way of getting in, for he moved up close to the pin, so that his rider could pull it. The gate creaked loudly on its wooden hinges, whereupon they heard a little confusion in the house, the door opened, and by the aid of the light from the fireplace the boys saw a woman and two little children fill the door.
189“Oh, Bo—”
One of the children was on the point of shouting out Dawson’s name, but quicker than a flash the mother’s hand covered his mouth. It was no place to speak a person’s name out loud.
“Sh—! Not a word out of you,” said Dawson, dismounting from his horse. “You will bring the rebels on me. That’s a little boy, but he is Union all over,” he added, turning to Leon. “Now you stay here and hold my horse, and I will go in and get things ready. I needn’t tell you to keep a good watch down the road. If you hear so much as a foot-step, I want to know it.”
“Now hold on a bit,” said Tom, dismounting and handing his reins to Leon to hold for him, “If you are going to leave us here in silence I must take care of my muel, else she will arouse the neighborhood. You hold her head, Leon, and I will look out for her tail.”
“Well, why don’t you take care of it, then?” asked Leon, when he saw Tom station himself in such a position that he could readily seize her tail in moments of emergency.
190“Because she isn’t ready to bray yet,” said Tom. “Whenever she gets ready to let the people know she is here she will bob her tail up and down. Then I will be ready to take hold of it and keep it down. Oh, there’s a heap to be learned about muels the first thing you know.”
Dawson laughed—he couldn’t keep from laughing if he knew his mother was in danger—and went on into the house, the door of which was closed after him; so Leon didn’t hear much of that greeting. And he wouldn’t have learned much if he had heard it. His mother had lived in danger for the last year, and all she did was to kiss him and listen while he told of his capture.
“But I wanted to go,” said he, “and father and I promised each other that whoever got away first should go to Jones county, and the one that was left in the rebel ranks should come there as soon as he could. I got away first, and now I am come after you. Pack up everything you want and be ready to load it aboard the mule-team which I will bring here as soon as possible.”
191“Will I be protected there?” asked his mother.
“You certainly will. There is a thousand men there, and they are growing every day. I wouldn’t ask you to stir a step if I didn’t think so. Your house is gone up.”
“Well, I can’t help that. But do you really think your father will be able to join us there?”
“He’s got to take his chances; that’s what I had to do. Now, mother, take everything you need and leave the rest behind for the rebels.”
This was all that was said, and Dawson left the house and went out to his companions; but he knew that his mother had gone hastily to work to bundle up such things as she needed and could not possibly do without. He took his bridle from Leon’s hand and with a whispered “follow me” led the way around behind a corn-crib, out of sight.
“Now I must leave you again, and you will take notice that your horses don’t let anyone know they are here,” said Dawson. “I am going to get a mule-team.”
192“Your mother is going, is she?” asked Tom.
“Of course she’s going. She would look nice living in that house while she had a husband and son in the Yankee army! Of course we have seen the house for the last time. The rebels will burn it up the first time they come this way.”
While Dawson was getting ready to go out and get the mule-team the boys noticed that their horses raised their heads, and pricked their ears forward and looked down the road, as if there was some object down there that attracted their attention. Dawson was the first to notice it, and he straightway grabbed his horse by the bridle and forced his head down.
“Somebody’s coming,” said he.
Leon speedily dismounted and took up a position by his horse’s bridle, Tom gave his reins into his hand and occupied his old station by his mule’s tail, and all the boys held their breath and listened. It was faint and far off, but presently they could distinctly hear the sound of a multitude of horses’ hoofs upon the hard road. Nearer it came, until 193Dawson, who was experienced in such matters, informed his companions in a whisper that there must be a whole platoon of cavalry approaching. It came from the south, too, and that was the direction in which the rebel headquarters were situated.
“I tell you it’s lucky that we got here just in the nick of time,” said Tom. “Hold on there, old muel,” he continued, catching the mule’s tail and pulling it down. “You mustn’t let those folks know we’re here. Did you see how I stopped his braying?”
Leon and Dawson were too deeply interested in what was going on in the road to pay much attention to him, and finally they could see, through the cracks in the corn-crib where the chinking had fallen out, a number of men ride past the house, or, rather, the majority of them rode by, while three drew rein and stopped there.
“By gracious! I hope mother heard them, and that she had time to put her bundles away out of sight,” whispered Dawson. “Everything depends upon that.”
“Where do you suppose they are going?” 194asked Leon, who was so excited that he could scarcely speak.
“They are going up to Jones county to see how nearly ready for them we are,” said Dawson. “I reckon they’ll stop when they get to the bridge. There are some riflemen up there that act to me as if they were good shots.”
“Now, here’s a thing that bothers me,” said Leon. “You are talking about getting a mule-team to haul your mother’s things to our county, and I would like to know how we are to get it by those fellows? We’ll have to wait until they go back.”
Dawson did not answer at once, for he was much concerned about those three men who rode into the yard. He saw one of them dismount and go into the house, and his heart beat like a trip-hammer when he saw it. He waited for the confusion which he knew would follow when the bundles his mother had made up were exposed to view, but it did not come. In a few minutes the man came out and spoke to the two men he had left on horseback, and they went on, and the rebel turned and came directly toward the corn-crib.
195“He’s coming here,” said Leon; and before anybody could say a word against it he had cocked his revolver, rested it in the crack, and pointed it at the man’s head. He was right in front of the open doorway, and of course Leon couldn’t have missed him at that distance. The rebel came on as though he knew where he was going, entered the doorway, placed his mouth close to the crack, and whispered:
“Robert!”
“For goodness’ sake turn that revolver the other way!” whispered Dawson. “It is my father.”
CALE WANTS A MULE.
“I am to go to the quartermaster, am I? It is his business to give the muels out, is it? He give one to that Tom Howe and never asked what he was going to do with him, and now he had to go and refuse to give one to me. I’ll get even with you, Mr. Sprague, for that, and you just see if I don’t.”
It was Newman who spoke, and he leaned against the corner of the hotel and watched Mr. Sprague as he went on inspecting the wagons. He was a boy about nineteen years old, although he might have passed for thirty, judging by his looks. He didn’t have a rifle; in fact he didn’t have anything except the big hunk of “nigger-twist” which he took from his pocket, transferring a generous slice to his mouth. He was not a raftsman, anybody could have told that, for they generally took 197some pains with their personal appearance. This Newman was ragged and dirty, and looked as though he had been in the habit of sleeping wherever night overtook him. He had the appearance of being mean enough for anything, and the facts proved that he was.
“See that ole Sprague stepping around like he owned the nation,” muttered Newman, shutting one eye and squirting a flow of tobacco-juice at the nearest tree. “I’ll see pap, and if he thinks it can be done I am going to do it. That ’rolling officer, when he was here, told them that they couldn’t have things all their own way, and I guess they will find it out. They will give me something for telling them where they can find the men, and I’ll be dog-gone if I don’t do it. Where’s that quartermaster, I wonder? Busy, as usual, I’ll bet. Well, let him work his own gait. He won’t do it much longer.”
Newman stayed around almost all day before he got a chance to speak to the quartermaster, and before he went away there was something that drew his attention from Mr. 198Sprague to Leon. The latter and two companions came up to report what had happened at Mr. Sprague’s plantation since his absence. Leon made a handsome figure, if he only knew it. He sat his horse with easy grace, was clad in a suit of blue jeans which fitted his person admirably, and he raised his hand to his father with a military salute that would have done credit to an old soldier. Newman did not hear any of his report, for it was given in tones so low that they could not reach his ears; but if he had heard any of it, it would have shown the necessity of his being up and doing.
“See how easily he touches his hat to that old civilian,” said Newman, with a sneer; “while my father, who could have had that position if the folks had been a-mind to give it to him, has to go around without anybody saluting him. Such things ain’t right, but I tell you I am going to make them that way. They offered my father something nice if he would betray these chief men into their hands—they didn’t say what it would be, but I suppose it is some commission—and he don’t seem willing to do it. I’ll do it, and see what they 199will give me. There’s the quartermaster now, and he don’t seem to be busy.”
Newman threw his tobacco out of his mouth and walked up to the quartermaster, who stood with his hands in his pockets and watching some wagons that were being hitched up previous to being hauled into the swamp.
“I want to see if you will give me a muel, please, sir,” said Newman, stepping up and trying his best to give the military salute as he had seen Leon do.
“A mule? What do you want of a mule?” said the officer, more than half inclined to laugh at the boy’s appearance. “You don’t want a mule to ride up to the house.”
“No, sir; but I want him so as to be ready to go with the men when they capture another wagon-train,” said Newman.
“Why, you didn’t go with the men
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