CHAPTER II.
Harry on a Scout.
When they had finished every thing in the basket, the boys threwthemselves on the grass in front of the cabin, and Harry said:
"I shall never forget the last time we made our camp here--on the day wehad that 'coon-hunt, and Archie fell into the creek. I've thought of ita great many times since I left home to go into the service, and itmakes me feel sad to see how things have changed. From school-boys andamateur hunters, who started and turned pale when we heard the howl of awolf or the hooting of an owl, you and I have grown pretty well ontoward manhood; have become experienced in scenes of danger, and havehad more narrow escapes than when we climbed up that tree to get out ofthe reach of the wolves that were in pursuit of the white buck. Butthere are some who have not been as fortunate as ourselves. There hasbeen a thinning out of our ranks, and two good fellows who have huntedwith us in these woods, and slept under the same blankets with us inthis cabin, we shall never see again; and the probabilities are, that,if we live to return home again, after peace has been restored, and wego tramping around through these woods, to visit all our old hunting andfishing-grounds, we shall miss a third. Ben Lake and William Johnson aredead; my brother is suffering in a rebel prison, and, from what I haveseen and heard of the manner in which Union prisoners are treated at theSouth, I never expect to see him again, even if he is not executed. BenLake, you know, was a quiet, good-natured fellow, scarcely ever sayingany thing unless he was first spoken to, and I had an idea that he wouldbe a little cowardly when he heard the bullets whistling around him; butI was never more mistaken in my life, for he won his promotion in thevery first battle in which our regiment was engaged. When I was madecaptain of our company, he received the appointment of firstlieutenant, and an excellent officer he made. He was a splendid rider,and when mounted on his horse--'Thunderbolt' he called him--he made afine appearance. He was no band-box officer, however, for he nevershrank from his duty, and he was above ordering one of his men to dowhat he was afraid to undertake himself. He and I were prisoners oncefor about forty-eight hours, and the way it happened was this:
"Our regiment, after the battle of Pittsburg Landing, was detached fromthe Western army and ordered to the Potomac. We had scarcely been therea week before we were sent out on a scout, with orders to capture Mosby,who was constantly harassing us, and scatter his command. We were outabout ten days, without accomplishing our object. Not a single glimpsedid we get of a reb, and finally we turned our faces toward the camp.Our horses, as well as ourselves, were nearly jaded, and the way we dothere, when a horse gives out, is to put a bullet through his head,shoulder our saddles, and trudge along after the column on foot, untilwe can find another animal to ride. I had command of the rear guard;and when we had arrived within a day's march of camp, my horse suddenlygave out--laid right down in the middle of the road, and couldn't go astep further. I was in something of a fix, and my feelings were none ofthe pleasantest when I found myself sprawling in the dusty road, and sawthat my horse was used up. It was something of an undertaking to find myway back to camp, through a country infested with guerrillas, and withwhich I was entirely unacquainted. It is true that I could have had ahorse, as several were at once offered me by my men; but I could not bemean enough to save my own bacon by leaving one of those brave fellowsbehind; so I told Ben to go ahead with the company, keeping a goodlook-out for a horse, and if he could find one, to send it back to me. Ithen shot my animal; and it was a job I hated to do, I tell you, for hewas as fine a horse as ever stepped; he had carried me many a long mile,and being my constant companion for almost a year and a half, I hadbecome very much attached to him. But there was no help for it; ourorders were strict; and I shouldered my saddle, and marched after thecolumn, which was soon out of sight.
"I walked along at a pretty lively pace, keeping a good look-out on eachside of the road for horses, and now and then looking behind, halfexpecting to see a squad of Mosby's cavalry in pursuit, until I wasstartled by the report of a pistol directly in front of me, and, comingsuddenly around a bend in the road, I found Ben sitting beside hishorse, which had also given out, waiting for me to come up. As Iapproached, glad enough that I was not left to find my way back to campalone, Ben picked up his saddle, and glancing sorrowfully at the work hehad done, said:
"'There's an end of poor Thunderbolt--the best horse in the regiment. Ithas no doubt saved him many a long scout, but I never felt so sorry forany thing in my life.'
"It was hard work, walking along that dusty road, carrying our heavysaddles, and we anxiously scanned every field which we passed, in hopesthat we should find some stray horse; but without success. About threeo'clock in the afternoon we reached a cross-road, and then we knew wherewe were. We had frequently been there on short scouts; so, withoutstopping to keep any further look-out for horses, we quickened ourpace, and about two miles further on, arrived at the house of a ladywith whom we were well acquainted, and who, as we had always consideredher loyal, had been allowed to remain in undisturbed possession of herproperty, which our regiment had once defended against Mosby's men. Herewe halted, and asked the lady if she could furnish us with some dinner.She replied in the affirmative, and we deposited our saddles in onecorner of the room, while the woman began to bustle about. In half anhour as good a dinner as I ever tasted in that part of the country wasserved up, and Ben and I sat down to it with most ravenous appetites.Before sitting down, I should mention, we took off our belts, to whichwere fastened our sabers and revolvers, and laid them in the corner withour saddles; a very foolish trick, as it afterward proved; but, as wewere within fifteen miles of camp, we did not apprehend any danger.
"After our hostess had seen us fairly started, she said:
"'You will excuse me for a few moments, gentlemen, as I would like torun over to see my sister, who is very sick. Will you keep an eye onthe baby?' she continued, pointing to the small specimen of humanity inquestion, which lay fast asleep in the cradle.
"'Yes,' answered Ben, 'I'll see to him;' and the woman started off,leaving us to finish our dinner and attend to the child.
"She hadn't been gone two minutes before the young one awoke, and, ofcourse, began to yell. We didn't know what to do, for it was newbusiness to us. After trying in vain to make it hush, Ben took it out ofthe cradle, and began to trot it up and down on his knee. But it was nouse, and he finally put it back, determined to let it cry until it gotready to stop, when I happened to think of the sugar-bowl. That was justthe thing. Ben took good care to keep its mouth so full of sugar that itcouldn't yell, and we succeeded in keeping it pretty still.
"In about half an hour the woman returned, and, in reply to ourinquiries, informed us that her sister was considerably better, and shehoped would be well in a few days. She then commenced talking onindifferent subjects; and we finally finished every thing on the table,and were thinking about starting for camp, when some one suddenlycalled out:
"'Here! here! Get up, you Yanks. Get up from that table.'
"We looked up, and there, standing in the door-way, with their revolversleveled at our heads, were two rebels--Colonel Mosby and a corporal.
"'I've fixed you!' exclaimed the woman, triumphantly. 'You didn't thinkthat while you were stealing my chickens, and abusing me, that I wouldever have the power on my side.'
"The old hag had betrayed us. She had invented the story of her sicksister, in order that her absence might not cause us any suspicions, andhad left the child for us to take care of, so that we should be obligedto remain until she returned. The story of stealing her chickens, andabusing her, was a mere pretext; for our orders to respect her propertywere strict, and we had not dared to disobey them.
"'There's only one thing that I am sorry for, madam,' said Ben, coolly,'and that is, that I didn't choke that young one of yours.'
"'Come, come, there!' interrupted the colonel. 'Get up from behind thattable at once, or you are dead men!'
"'We're gobbled easy enough, Harry,' said Ben, in his usual careles
smanner, as we arose from our chairs. 'Well, I suppose there's no helpfor it, seeing that we have no weapons. What do you intend to do with afellow, Johnny?'
"'Take you direct to Richmond,' was the encouraging answer, made by thecorporal, as he walked across the room and took possession of our arms.'Come out here!'
"We had no other alternative; so we marched out in front of the house,our captors mounted their horses, and we trudged along before them onfoot toward Centerville.
"You have been a prisoner, and can easily imagine the thoughts thatpassed through our minds. We saw before us a long, fatiguing march, withhard fare, and harder treatment, and the dreaded Libby looming up in thebackground. But we were not allowed much time to commune with our ownthoughts, for Mosby immediately began to question us in relation to theforces we had in different parts of the country. Of course we told himsome of the most outrageous stories, but he seemed to put some faith inthem; and when we reached the cross-road he left us, after ordering thecorporal to take us to Culpepper.
"As soon as the colonel had got out of sight, the corporal began toabuse us in the worst kind of a manner, swearing at us, and calling usAbolitionists and the like; and said that if he could have his own wayhe would hang us on the nearest tree. We told him that it was a meantrick to treat prisoners in that way, and advised him to keep a civiltongue in his head, as the tables might be turned on him some day; buthe paid no attention to us, and kept on jawing, until finally, justbefore night, we reached Centerville.
"We stopped at a house near the middle of the town, where we weretreated very kindly by the people, who gave us plenty to eat, but toldus that we were fighting on the wrong side. After supper, the corporaltook us out to the barn, where he proceeded to 'go through' us prettythoroughly. He robbed me of twenty dollars in greenbacks, a watch, comb,several letters--in short, he did not leave me any thing. Afteroverhauling Ben's pockets, he ordered him to 'come out of his coat,'which he did without a grumble; and after cutting off theshoulder-straps--because Ben 'wouldn't need 'em any more,' he said--heput the coat on his own back, locked the barn, and left us to ourmeditations. As soon as the sound of his footsteps had died away, Isaid:
"'Ben, I'm going to get out of here, if I can.'
"'All right,' said he; 'feel around on the floor and see if you can'tfind something to force that door open with. How I wish I had that youngone here! I wouldn't feed it with sugar, I tell you.'
"We commenced groping about in the darkness, but not a thing in theshape of a club could be found. Then we placed our shoulders against thedoor, and pressed with all our strength; but it was too strong to beforced from its hinges, and the floor was so securely fastened down,that it could not be pulled up; so, after working until we werecompletely exhausted, we sat down on the floor to rest.
"'We're in for it,' said Ben.
"'But I'm not going to Libby, now I tell you,' I answered. 'To-morrow weshall probably start for Culpepper, under guard of that corporal; andthe very first chance, I'm going to mizzle.'
"Ben made no reply, but I well knew what he was thinking about. After afew more ineffectual attempts, we then lay down on the hard boards, andtried to go to sleep; but that was, for a long time, out of thequestion.
"Our situation was not one calculated to quiet our feelings much, and aswe rolled about the floor, trying to find a comfortable position, Icould hear Ben venting his spite against 'that brat.' He did not seem tothink of the woman who had betrayed us.
"We passed a most miserable night, and at daylight were awakened with:
"'Come out here, you Yanks. It's high time you were moving towardLibby.'
"That rascally corporal seemed to delight in tormenting us; but therewas only one thing we could do, and that was to 'grin and bear it.'After a hasty breakfast, we again set out, the corporal following closebehind us on his horse, with a revolver in his hand, ready to shoot thefirst one that made an attempt at escape. We kept on, stopping only onceor twice for water, until we reached the Bull Run bridge. Here thecorporal stopped, and called out:
"'Come here, one of you fellers, and hold my horse.'
"I did as he ordered, and the rebel dismounted, bent down on one knee,and commenced fixing his spur. My mind was made up in an instant. It wasnow or never. Giving a yell to attract Ben's attention, I sprang at therebel, caught him around the neck, and rolled him over on his back. Hekicked and swore furiously, and if I had been alone, he would mostlikely have got the better of me; but Ben, being close at hand, caughtup the revolver, which the rebel had laid on the ground beside him, andin a moment more I had secured his saber. He saw that further resistancewas useless, and bawled out:
"'Don't shoot, Yank. Don't shoot me, for mercy's sake!'
"'Nobody's going to hurt you if you behave yourself,' said Ben. 'Getup.'
"The rebel raised himself to his feet, and I at once began to 'sound'him, as we call it. I got back my watch, money, and every thing else hehad taken from us the night before. We then ordered him to travel onahead of us, and, as Ben's feet were so badly swollen that he couldscarcely move, I told him to get on the horse, while I walked along byhis side. We passed back through Centerville, keeping a good look-outfor rebel scouts, which we knew were in the vicinity, but we did notmeet with any of them until along toward night, when we heard a yell,and, looking up, saw half a dozen cavalry charging across the fieldtoward us.
"'I guess we're gobbled again, captain,' said Ben.
"'Not if our legs hold out,' I answered. 'Get down off that horse,quick. We must foot it, now.'
"Ben hastily dismounted, and, catching our prisoner by the arm, wepulled him over a fence, through the woods, and into a swamp, where wefastened him to a tree. We then tied a handkerchief over his mouth, toprevent him from making his whereabouts known to his friends, and madethe best of our way to the camp, which we reached about daylight. We atonce reported to the colonel, who sent us back with our company afterthe prisoner; but he was gone. His friends had doubtless discoveredhim, and released him from his unpleasant situation. The woman whobetrayed us paid the penalty of her treachery. Her house was burned overher head, and her husband, whom she had reported to us as dead, but whowas found concealed in the barn, was taken back to the camp aprisoner."