The Guns of Shiloh: A Story of the Great Western Campaign

  CHAPTER VII. THE MESSENGER

  Victory, overwhelming and complete, had been won, but General Thomascould not follow into the deep mountains where his army might be cutoff. So he remained where he was for a little while and on the secondday he sent for Dick.

  The general was seated alone in a tent, an open end of which faced afire, as it was now extremely cold. General Thomas had shown no undueelation over his victory. He was as silent as ever, and now, as always,he made upon Dick the impression of strength and indomitable courage.

  "Sit down," he said, waving his hand toward a camp stool.

  Dick, after saluting, sat down in silence.

  "I hear," said the general, "that you behaved very well in the battle,and that you are a lad of courage and intelligence. Courage is common,intelligence, real intelligence, is rare. You were at Bull Run also, soI hear."

  "I was, and the army fought well there too, but late in the day it wasseized with a sudden panic."

  "Something that may happen at any time to raw troops. But we'll pass tothe question in hand. The campaign here in the mountains is ended forthis winter, but great matters are afoot further west. A courier arrivedlast night stating that General Grant and Commodore Foote were preparingto advance by water from Cairo, Illinois, and attempt the reduction ofthe Confederate forts on the Cumberland and Tennessee. General Buell,one of your own Kentuckians, is advancing southward with a strong Unionforce, and in a few days his outposts will be on Green River. It willbe of great advantage to Buell to know that the Confederate army in theeastern part of the state is destroyed. He can advance with freedom and,on the other hand, the Southern leader, Albert Sidney Johnston, will becompelled to throw a portion of his force to the eastward to protecthis flank which has been uncovered by our victory at Mill Spring. Do youunderstand?"

  "I do, sir."

  "Then you are to carry dispatches of the utmost importance from me toGeneral Buell. After you reach his camp--if you reach it--you will,of course, be subject to his orders. I have learned that you know thecountry well between here and Green River. Because of that, and becauseof your intelligence, real intelligence, I mean, you are chosen for thistask. You are to change to citizen's clothes at once, and a horse ofgreat power and endurance has been selected for you. But you must useall your faculties all the time. I warn you that the journey is full ofdanger."

  "I can carry it out," replied Dick with quiet confidence, "and I thankyou for choosing me."

  "I believe you will succeed," said the general, who liked his tone."Return here in an hour with all your preparations made, and I will giveyou the dispatches."

  Warner was filled with envy that his comrade was to go on a secretmission of great importance, but he generously wished him a full measureof success.

  "Remember," he said, "that on an errand like yours, presence of mindcounts for at least fifty per cent. Have a quick tongue. Always be readywith a tale that looks true."

  "An' remember, too," said Sergeant Whitley, "that however tight a placeyou get into you can get into one tighter. Think of that and it willencourage you to pull right out of the hole."

  The two wrung his hand and Major Hertford also gave him his warmestwishes. The horse chosen for him was a bay of tremendous power, and Dickknew that he would serve him well. He carried double blankets strappedto the saddle, pistols in holsters with another in his belt, anabundance of ammunition, and food for several days in his saddle bags.Then he returned to General Thomas, who handed him a thin strip oftissue paper.

  "It is written in indelible ink," he said, "and it contains a statementof our forces and their positions here in the eastern part of the state.It also tells General Buell what reinforcements he can expect. If youare in imminent danger of capture destroy the paper, but to provide forsuch a chance, in case you escape afterward, I will read the dispatchesto you."

  He read them over several times and then questioned Dick. But the boy'smemory was good. In fact, every word of the dispatches was burnt intohis brain, and nothing could make him forget them.

  "And now, my lad," said General Thomas, giving him his hand, "you mayhelp us greatly. I would not send a boy upon such an errand, but thedemands of war are terrible and must be obeyed."

  The strong grasp of the general's hand imparted fresh enthusiasm toDick, and for the present he did not have the slightest doubt thathe would get safely through. He wore a strong suit of home-made brownjeans, a black felt cap with ear-flaps, and high boots. The dispatch waspinned into a small inside pocket of his vest.

  He rode quickly out of camp, giving the sentinels the pass word, and thehead of the horse was pointed west slightly by north. The ground was nowfrozen and he did not have the mud to hold him back.

  The horse evidently had been longing for action. Such thews andsinews as his needed exercise. He stretched out his long neck, neighedjoyously, and broke of his own accord into an easy canter. It was alonely road, and Dick was glad that it was so. The fewer people he metthe better it was in every way for him.

  He shared the vigor and spirit of his horse. His breath turned tosmoke, but the cold whipped his blood into a quicker torrent. He hummedsnatches of the songs that he had heard Samuel Jarvis sing, and went onmile after mile through the high hills toward the low hills of Kentucky.

  Dick did not pass many people. The ancient name of his state--the Darkand Bloody Ground--came back to him. He knew that war in one of itsworst forms existed in this wild sweep of hills. Here the guerillasrode, choosing their sides as suited them best, and robbing as paid themmost. Nor did these rough men hesitate at murder. So he rode most of thetime with his hand on the butt of the pistol at his belt, and wheneverhe went through woods, which was most of the time, he kept a wary watchto right and to left.

  The first person whom he passed was a boy riding on a sack of grain tomill. Dick greeted him cheerfully and the boy with the fearlessness ofyouth replied in the same manner.

  "Any news your way?" asked Dick.

  "Nothin' at all," replied the boy, his eyes enlarging with excitement,"but from the way you are comin' we heard tell there was a great battle,hundreds of thousands of men on each side an' that the Yankees won. Isit so, Mister?"

  "It is true," replied Dick. "A dozen people have told me of it, but thearmies were not quite so large as you heard. It is true also that theYankees won."

  "I'll tell that at the mill. It will be big news to them. An' which waybe you goin', Mister?" said the boy with all the frankness of the hills.

  "I'm on my way to the middle part of the state. I've been looking aftersome land that my people own in the mountains. Looks like a lonesomeroad, this. Will I reach any house soon?"

  "Thar's Ben Trimble's three miles further on, but take my advice an'don't stop thar. Ben says he ain't goin' to be troubled in these wartimes by visitors, an' he's likely to meet you at the door with hisdouble-barreled shotgun."

  "I won't knock on Ben's door, so he needn't take down hisdouble-barreled shotgun. What's next beyond Ben's house?"

  "A half mile further on you come to Hungry Creek. It ain't much in themiddle of summer, but right now it's full of cold water, 'nough of it tocome right up to your hoss's body. You go through it keerful."

  "Thank you for your good advice," said Dick. "I'll follow it, too.Good-bye."

  He waved his gauntleted hand and rode on. A hundred yards further andhe glanced back. The boy had stopped on the crest of a hill, and waslooking at him. But Dick knew that it was only the natural curiosity ofthe hills and he renewed his journey without apprehension.

  At the appointed time he saw the stout log cabin of Ben Trimble by theroadside with the warm smoke rising from the chimney, but true to hisword he gave Ben and his shotgun no trouble, and continued straightahead over the frozen road until he came to the banks of Hungry Creek.Here, too, the words of the boy came true. The water was both deep andcold, and Dick looked at it doubtfully.

  He urged his great horse into the stream at last, and it appeared thatthe creek had risen somewhat since
the boy had last seen it. In themiddle the horse was compelled to swim, but it was no task for such apowerful animal, and Dick, holding his feet high, came dry to the shorethat he sought.

  The road led on through high hills, covered with oak and beech and cedarand pine, all the deciduous trees bare of leaves, their boughs rustlingdryly whenever the wind blew. He saw the smoke of three cabins nestlingin snug coves, but it was a full three hours before he met anybody elsein the road. Then he saw two men riding toward him, but he could nottell much about them as they were wrapped in heavy gray shawls, and worebroad brimmed felt hats, pulled well down over their foreheads.

  Dick knew that he could not exercise too much caution in this debatableland, and his right hand dropped cautiously to the butt of his pistol insuch a manner that it was concealed by his heavy overcoat. His left handrested lightly on the reins as he rode forward at an even pace. But hedid not fail to take careful note of the two men who were now examininghim in a manner that he did not like.

  Dick saw that the strangers openly carried pistols in their belts, whichwas not of overwhelming significance in such times in such a region, butthey did not have the look of mountaineers riding on peaceful business,and he reined his horse to the very edge of the road that he might passthem.

  He noted with rising apprehension that they checked the pace of theirhorses as they approached, and that they reined to either side of theroad to compel him to go between them. But he pulled his own horse outstill further, and as they could not pass on both sides of him withoutan overt act of hostility they drew together again in the middle of theroad.

  "Mornin' stranger," they said together, when they were a few yards away.

  "Good morning," said Dick, riding straight on, without checking hisspeed. But one of the men drew his horse across the road and said:

  "What's your hurry? It ain't friendly to ride by without passin' thetime o' day."

  Now at close range, Dick liked their looks less than ever. They mightbe members of that very band of Skelly's which had already made so muchtrouble for both sides, and he summoned all his faculties in order tomeet them at any game that they might try to play.

  "I've been on land business in the mountains," he said, "and I'm anxiousto get back to my home. Besides the day is very cold, and the two factsdeprive me of the pleasure of a long conversation with you, gentlemen.Good-day."

  "Wait just a little," said the spokesman, who still kept his horsereined across the road. "These be war times an' it's important to knowwhat a fellow is. Be you for the Union or are you with the Secesh?"

  Dick was quite sure that whatever he answered they would immediatelyclaim to be on the opposite side. Then would follow robbery and perhapsmurder.

  "Which is your side?" he asked.

  "But we put the question first," the fellow replied.

  Dick no longer had any doubts. The second man was drawing his horse upby the side of him, as if to seize him, while the first continued to barthe way. He was alarmed, deeply alarmed, but he lost neither his couragenor his presence of mind. Luckily he had already summoned every facultyfor instant action, and now he acted. He uttered a sudden shout, andraked the side of his horse with both spurs.

  His horse was not only large and powerful but of a most high spirit.When he heard that shout and felt the burning slash of the spurs hemade a blind but mighty leap forward. The horse of the first stranger,smitten by so great a weight, fell in the road and his rider went downwith him. The enraged horse then leaped clear of both and darted forwardat headlong speed.

  As his horse sprang Dick threw himself flat upon his neck, and thebullet that the second man fired whistled over his head. By impulse hedrew his own pistol and fired back. He saw the man's pistol arm fall asif broken, and he heard a loud cry. That was a lucky shot indeed, andrising a little in his saddle he shouted again and again to the greathorse that served him so well.

  The gallant animal responded in full. He stretched out his long neck andthe road flew fast behind him. Sparks flashed from the stones wherethe shod hoofs struck, and Dick exulting felt the cold air rush past.Another shot was fired at long range, but the bullet did not strikeanywhere near.

  Dick took only a single backward glance. He saw the two men on theirhorses, but drooping as if weak from hurts, and he knew that for thepresent at least he was safe from any hurt from them. But he allowed hishorse his head for a long time, and then he gradually slowed himdown. No human being was in sight now and he spoke to the noble animalsoothingly.

  "Good old boy," he said; "the strongest, the swiftest, the bravest, andthe truest. I was sorry to make those red stripes on your sides, but ithad to be done. Only quickness saved us."

  The horse neighed. He was still quivering from excitement andexertion. So was Dick for that matter. The men might have been robbersmerely--they were at least that bad--but they might have deprived himalso of his precious dispatch. He was proud of the confidence put inhim by General Thomas, and he meant to deserve it. It was this senseof responsibility and pride that had attuned his faculties to so high apitch and that had made his action so swift, sudden and decisive.

  But he steadied himself presently. The victory, for victory it certainlywas, increased his strength and confidence. He stopped soon at abrook--they seemed to occur every mile--and bathed with cold water thered streaks his spurs had made on either side of his horse. Again hespoke soothing words and regretted the necessity that had caused him tomake such wounds, slight though they were.

  He also bathed his own face and hands and, as it was now about noon,ate of the cold ham and bread that he carried in his knapsack, meanwhilekeeping constant watch on the road over which he had come. But he didnot believe that the men would pursue, and he saw no sign of them.Mounting again he rode forward.

  The remainder of the afternoon went by without interruption. He passedthree or four people, but they were obviously natives of that region,and they asked him only innocent questions. The wintry day was short,and the twilight was soon at hand. He was riding over one of the bareridges, when first he noticed how late the day had grown. All the skywas gray and chill and the cold sun was setting behind the westernmountains. A breeze sprang up, rustling among the leafless branches, andDick shivered in the saddle. A new necessity was pressed suddenly uponhim. He must find shelter for the night. Even with his warm doubleblankets he could not sleep in the forest on such a night. Besides thehorse would need food.

  He rode on briskly for a full hour, anxiously watching both sides ofthe road for a cabin or cabin smoke. By that time night had come fully,though fortunately it was clear but very cold. He saw then on the righta faint coil of smoke rising against the dusky sky and he rode straightfor it.

  The smoke came from a strong double cabin, standing about four hundredyards from the road, and the sight of the heavy log walls made Dick allthe more anxious to get inside them. The cold had grown bitter and evenhis horse shivered.

  As he approached two yellow curs rushed forth and began to barkfuriously, snapping at the horse's heels, the usual mountain welcome.But when a kick from the horse grazed the ear of one of them they keptat a respectful distance.

  "Hello! Hello!" called Dick loudly.

  This also was the usual mountain notification that a guest had come,and the heavy board door of the house opened inward. A man, elderly,but dark and strong, with the high cheek bones of an Indian stood in thedoor, the light of a fire blazing in the fireplace on the opposite sideof the wall throwing him in relief. His hair was coal black, long andcoarse, increasing his resemblance to an Indian.

  Dick rode close to the door, and, without hesitation, asked for anight's shelter and food. This was his inalienable right in the hills ormountains of his state, and he would be a strange man indeed who wouldrefuse it.

  The man sharply bade the dogs be silent and they retreated behind thehouse, their tails drooping. Then he said to Dick in a tone that was notwithout hospitality:

  "'Light, stranger, an' we'll put up your horse. Mandy will have supperrea
dy by the time we finish the job."

  Dick sprang down gladly, but staggered a little at first from thestiffness of his legs.

  "You've rid far, stranger," said the man, who Dick knew at once had akeen eye and a keen brain, "an' you're young, too."

  "But not younger than many who have gone to the war," replied Dick. "Infact, you see many who are not older than fifteen or sixteen."

  He had spoken hastily and incautiously and he realized it at once. Theman's keen gaze was turned upon him again.

  "You've seen the armies, then?" he said. "Mebbe you're a sojeryourself?"

  "I've been in the mountains, looking after some land that belongs to myfamily," said Dick. "My name is Mason, Richard Mason, and I live nearPendleton, which is something like a hundred miles from here."

  He deemed it best to give his right name, as it would have nosignificance there.

  "You must have seen armies," persisted the man, "or you wouldn't hevknowed 'bout so many boys of fifteen or sixteen bein' in them."

  "I saw both the Federal and Confederate armies in Eastern Kentucky. Mybusiness took me near them, but I was always glad to get away from them,too."

  "I heard tell today that there was a big battle."

  "You heard right. It was fought near a little place called Mill Spring,and resulted in a complete victory for the Northern forces under GeneralThomas."

  "That was what I heard. It will be good news to some, an' bad news toothers. 'Pears to me, Mr. Mason, that you can't fight a battle that willsuit everybody."

  "I never heard of one that did."

  "An' never will, I reckon. Mighty good hoss that you're ridin'. I neverseed one with better shoulders. My name's Leffingwell, Seth Leffingwell,an' I live here alone, 'ceptin' my old woman, Mandy. All we ask ofpeople is to let us be. Lots of us in the mountain feel that way. Letthem lowlanders shoot one another up ez long ez they please, but up herethere ain't no slaves, an' there ain't nothin' else to fight about."

  The stable was a good one, better than usual in that country. Dick sawstalls for four horses, but no horses. They put his own horse in oneof the stalls, and gave him corn and hay. Then they walked back to thehouse, and entered a large room, where a stalwart woman of middle agehad just finished cooking supper.

  "Whew, but the night's goin' to be cold," said Leffingwell, as he shutthe door behind them, and cut off an icy blast. "It'll make the firean' supper all the better. We're just plain mountain people, but you'rewelcome to the best we have. Ma, this is Mr. Mason, who has been onlan' business in the mountains, an' is back on his way to his home atPendleton."

  Leffingwell's wife, a powerful woman, as large as her husband, and witha pleasant face, gave Dick a large hand and a friendly grasp.

  "It's a good night to be indoors," she said. "Supper's ready, Seth. Willyou an' the stranger set?"

  She had placed the pine table in the middle of the room, and Dicknoticed that it was large enough for five or six persons. He put hissaddle bags and blankets in a corner and he and the man drew up chairs.

  He had seldom beheld a more cheerful scene. In a great fireplace tenfeet wide big logs roared and crackled. Corn cakes, vegetables, andtwo kinds of meat were cooking over the coals and a great pot of coffeeboiled and bubbled. No candles had been lighted, but they were notneeded. The flames gave sufficient illumination.

  "Set, young man," said Leffingwell heartily, "an' see who's teeth aresharper, yourn or mine."

  Dick sat down gladly, and they fell to. The woman alternately waited onthem and ate with them. For a time the two masculine human beingsate and drank with so much vigor that there was no time for talk.Leffingwell was the first to break silence.

  "I kin see you growin'," he said.

  "Growing?"

  "Yes, growin', you're eatin' so much, you're enjoyin' it so much, an'you're digestin' it so fast. You are already taller than you was whenyou set, an' you're broader 'cross the chest. No, 'tain't wuth while to'pologize. You've got a right to be hungry, an' you mustn't forget Ma'scookin' either. She's never had her beat in all these mountains."

  "Shut up, Seth," said Mrs. Leffingwell, genially, "you'll make the youngstranger think you're plum' foolish, which won't be wide of the markeither."

  "I'm grateful," said Dick falling into the spirit of it, "but what painsme, Mrs. Leffingwell, is the fact that Mr. Leffingwell will only nibbleat your food. I don't understand it, as he looks like a healthy man."

  "'Twouldn't do for me to be too hearty," said Leffingwell, "or I'd keepMandy here cookin' all the time."

  They seemed pleasant people to Dick, good, honest mountain types, and hewas glad that he had found their house. The room in which they satwas large, apparently used for all purposes, kitchen, dining-room,sitting-room, and bedroom. An old-fashioned squirrel rifle lay on hooksprojecting from the wall, but there was no other sign of a weapon. Therewas a bed at one end of the room and another at the other, which couldbe hidden by a rough woolen curtain running on a cord. Dick surmisedthat this bed would be assigned to him.

  Their appetites grew lax and finally ceased. Then Leffingwell yawned andstretched his arms.

  "Stranger," he said, "we rise early an' go to bed early in these parts.Thar ain't nothin' to keep us up in the evenin's, an' as you've had ahard, long ride I guess you're just achin' fur sleep."

  Dick, although he had been unwilling to say so, was in fact very sleepy.The heavy supper and the heat of the room pulled so hard on his eyelidsthat he could scarcely keep them up. He murmured his excuses and said hebelieved he would like to retire.

  "Don't you be bashful about sayin' so," exclaimed Leffingwell heartily,"'cause I don't think I could keep up more'n a half hour longer."

  Mrs. Leffingwell drew the curtain shutting off one bed and a small spacearound it. Dick, used to primitive customs, said good-night and retiredwithin his alcove, taking his saddle bags. There was a small window nearthe foot of the room, and when he noticed it he resolved to let in alittle air later on. The mountaineers liked hot rooms all the time, buthe did not. This window contained no glass, but was closed with a broadshutter.

  The boy undressed and got into bed, placing his saddle bags on the footof it, and the pistol that he carried in his belt under his head. Hefell asleep almost immediately and had he been asked beforehand he wouldhave said that nothing could awake him before morning. Nevertheless heawoke before midnight, and it was a very slight thing that caused himto come out of sleep. Despite the languor produced by food and heat acertain nervous apprehension had been at work in the boy's mind, and itfollowed him into the unknown regions of sleep. His body was dead fora time and his mind too, but this nervous power worked on, almostindependently of him. It had noted the sound of voices nearby, andawakened him, as if he had been shaken by a rough hand.

  He sat up in his bed and became conscious of a hot and aching head. Thenhe remembered the window, and softly drawing two pegs that fastened itin order that he might not awaken his good hosts, he opened it inward afew inches.

  The cold air poured in at the crevice and felt like heaven on his face.His temples quit throbbing and his head ceased to ache. He had notnoticed at first the cause that really awakened him, but as he settledback into bed, grateful for the fresh air, the same mysterious powergave him a second warning signal.

  He heard the hum of voices and sat up again. It was merely theLeffingwells in the bed at the far end of the room, talking! Perhapshe had not been asleep more than an hour, and it was natural thatthey should lie awake a while, talking about the coming of this youngstranger or any other event of the day that interested them. Then hecaught a tone or an inflection that he did not remember to have beenused by either of the Leffingwells. A third signal of alarm was promptlyregistered on his brain.

  He leaned from the bed and pulling aside the curtain a half an inchor so, looked into the room. The fire had died down except a few coalswhich cast but a faint light. Yet it was sufficient to show Dick thatthe two Leffingwells had not gone to bed. They were sitting fullyclothed before t
he fireplace, and three other persons were with them.

  As Dick stared his eyes grew more used to the half dusk and he sawclearly. The three strangers were young men, all armed heavily, and theresemblance of two of them to the Leffingwells was so striking that hehad no doubt they were their sons. Now he understood about those emptystalls. The third man, who had been sitting with his shoulder towardDick, turned his face presently, and the boy with difficulty repressedan exclamation. It was the one who had reined his horse across the roadto stop him. A fourth and conclusive signal of alarm was registered uponhis brain.

  He began to dress rapidly and without noise. Meanwhile he listenedintently and could hear the words they spoke. The woman was pleadingwith them to let him go. He was only a harmless lad, and while thesewere dark days, a crime committed now might yet be punished.

  "A harmless boy," said the strange man. "He's quick, an' strong enough,I tell you. You should have seen how he rode me down, and then shotGarmon in the arm."

  "I'd like to have that hoss of his," said the elder Leffingwell. "He'sthe finest brute I ever laid eyes on. Sech power an' sech action. Inoticed him at once, when Mason come ridin' up. S'pose we jest take thehoss and send the boy on."

  "A hoss like that would be knowed," protested the woman. "What if sojerscome lookin' fur him!"

  "We could run him off in the hills an' keep him there a while," saidLeffingwell. "I know places where sojers wouldn't find that hoss in athousand years. What do you say to that, Kerins?"

  "Good as fur as it goes," replied Kerins, "but it don't go fur enoughby a long shot. The Yanks whipped the Johnnies in a big battle at MillSpring. Me an' my pardners have been hangin' 'roun' in the woods, seein'what would happen. Now, we know that this boy rode straight from thetent of General Thomas hisself. He's a Union sojer, an' young as he is,he's an officer. He wouldn't be sent out by General Thomas hisself 'lessit was on big business. He's got messages, dispatches of some kind thatare worth a heap to somebody. With all the armies gatherin' in the southan' west of the state it stands to reason that them dispatches mean alot. Now, we've got to get 'em an' get the full worth of 'em from themto whom they're worth the most."

  "He's got a pistol," said the elder Leffingwell, "I seed it in his belt.If he wakes before we grab him he'll shoot."

  The man Kerins laughed.

  "He'll never get a chance to shoot," he said. "Why, after all he wentthrough today, he'll sleep like a log till mornin'."

  "That's so," said one of the young Leffingwells, "an' Kerins is right.We ought to grab them dispatches. Likely in one way or another we kingit a heap fur 'em."

  "Shut up, Jim, you fool," said his mother sharply. "Do you want murderon your hands? Stealin' hosses is bad enough, but if that boy has gotthe big dispatches you say he has, an' he's missin', don't you thinkthat sojers will come after him? An' they'll trace him to this house,an' I tell you that in war trials don't last long. Besides, he's a niceboy an' he spoke nice all the time to pap an' me."

  But her words did not seem to make any impression upon the others,except her husband, who protested again that it would be enough to takethe horse. As for the dispatches it wasn't wise for them to fool withsuch things. But Kerins insisted on going the whole route and the youngLeffingwells were with him.

  Meanwhile Dick had dressed with more rapidity than ever before in hislife, fully alive to the great dangers that threatened. But his fear wasgreatest lest he might lose the precious dispatches that he bore. Fora few moments he did not know what to do. He might take his pistols andfight, but he could not fight them all with success. Then that pleasantflood of cold air gave him the key.

  While they were still talking he put his saddle bags over his arm,opened the shutter its full width, and dropped quietly to the groundoutside, remembering to take the precaution of closing the shutterbehind him, lest the sudden inrush of cold startle the Leffingwells andtheir friends.

  It was an icy night, but Dick did not stop to notice it. He ran to thestable, saddled and bridled his horse in two minutes, and in anotherminute was flying westward over the flinty road, careless whether or notthey heard the beat of his horse's hoofs.