The Drummer Boy
XII.
THE SECESSIONIST'S TURKEYS.
In the mean time the boys watching from their ambush, and seeing that therebel had gone off with Frank, but left his dog and negro behind, armedthemselves with clubs. When all was ready, Winch gave the word, andforward they dashed at the doublequick, clearing more than half the spaceintervening between them and the barns, before they were discovered bythe enemy. Then the dog bounded out with a bark, and the old negro beganto "holler," and the rebel's wife and daughter ran out and screamed, andan old negress also appeared, brandishing a broom, and adding her voiceto the chorus.
At this moment the report of a gun came from the direction in which thesecessionist had gone off with Frank.
John Winch heard it, just as the dog met the charging party. Who waskilled? Frank or Seth? John did not know, but he was frightened. He hadcome for fun and poultry, not for fighting and bullets. Neither was heparticularly ambitions to be bitten by that monstrous dog. He lost faithin his club, and dropped it. He lost confidence in the prowess of hiscompanions, and deserted them. In short, Jack Winch, who had been one ofthe most eager to engage in the adventure, took ignominiously to hisheels.
He reached the thicket before venturing to look behind him. Then he sawthat his comrades had frightened away the negro, beaten back the dog, andtaken the turkey-pen by storm. He would now have been but too glad tojoin them; but it was too late. Having accomplished their undertaking,they were returning, each bringing, pendent by the legs, a flopping fowl.
It is better to be a brave man than a coward, even in a bad cause.Fortune often favors brave men in the wrong in preference to aidingcowards in the right, for Fortune loves not a poltroon. John Winch feltat that moment that nobody henceforth would love or favor him, and hebegan to frame excuses for his shameful conduct.
"Hello, Jack Winch," cried Ellis, coming up with a turkey in one handand a chicken in the other, "you're a smart leader--to run away from ayelping dog like that!"
"Coward! coward!" chimed in the others, with angry contempt.
"I sprained my ankle. Didn't you know it?" said the miserable Jack, witha writhing countenance, limping.
"Sprained your granny!" exclaimed Harris. "I never saw a sprained anklego over the ground as fast as yours did, just as we came to the dog."
"Then I heard the gun," said Jack, "and I was afraid either Seth or Frankwas shot."
"Woe to the man of turkeys if they are!" said Joe, twisting the neck ofhis fowl to quiet it. "We'll serve him as I am serving this hen."
The boys hastened to a rendezvous they had appointed with the absentones, followed by Jack at a very creditable pace, considering hisexcruciating lameness.
As yet, neither Frank nor Seth had been shot. The charge of buck shotfired from the rebel fowling-piece had entered the bushes just as theblue uniform left them. But the secessionist cocked the other barrel ofhis piece immediately, with the intention of making up for the error ofhis first aim.
"Shoot me," shouted Seth, "and you'll be swinging from that limb in fiveminutes!"
The man hesitated, glancing quickly about for those who were expected toput Seth's threat into execution.
"I've twenty fellows with me," added Seth, "and they'll string you up inno time, by darn!"
The secessionist was not so much impressed by the rather slender oathwith which Seth clinched his speech, as by the sharp and earnest tone inwhich the whole was uttered,--Seth walking savagely up to him as hespoke. All the while, the alarm raised by the negro, and the dog, and thewomen, was sounding in the man's ears.
"They're after my turkeys! This is your trick, boy!" and he sprang uponFrank, lifting his gun as if to level him to the earth.
But Seth sprang after him, and seized the weapon before it descended.That green down-easter was cool as if he had been at a game of ball. Hewas an athletic youth, and he readily saw that Buckley, though a sturdyfarmer, was no match for him. He pushed him back, shouting shrilly, atthe same time, in the words of his favorite poet,--
"'Now, if thou strik'st him but one blow, I'll hurl thee from the brinkas far as ever peasant pitched a bar!'"
This strange form of salutation astonished the rebel even more than therough treatment he received at the hands of the vigorous and poeticalTucket. He saw that it was no time to stay and parley. He knew that histurkeys were going, and, muttering a parting malediction at Frank, he setoff at a run to protect his poultry-yard.
"Now's our time," said Tucket, starting for the rendezvous, and strikinginto another quotation from his favorite minstrel, parodied for theoccasion. "'Speed, Manly, speed! the cow's tough hide on fleeter foot wasne'er tied. Speed, Manly, speed! such cause of haste a drummer's sinewsnever braced. For turkey's doom and rebel deed are in thy course--speed,Manly, speed!'"
And speed they did, arriving at the place of meeting just as theircompanions came up with the poultry.
"Hello, Jack!" said Frank; "what's the matter with you?"
"He stumbled over a great piece of bark," Ellis answered for Winch.
"Did you, Jack?"
"Yes!" said Jack, putting on a look of anguish. He had not thought of thebark before, but supposing Ellis had seen such a piece as he spoke of, heaccepted his theory of the stumbling as readily as the rebel hadrecognized in Seth's gobbling one of his own lost turkeys. "And broke myankle," added Jack.
"What kind of bark was it? do you know?" said Ellis.
"No. I was hurt so I didn't stop to look."
"Well, I'll tell you. It was the dog's bark." And Ellis and his comradesshouted with laughter, all except poor Jack Winch, who knew too well thatno other kind of bark had checked his progress.
Then the turkey-stealers had their adventure to relate, and Frank had hisamusing story to tell, and Tucket could brag how near he had come tobeing shot for one of Buckley's gobblers, and all were merry but Jack,who had brought from the field nothing but a counterfeit lameness anddishonor, and who accordingly lagged behind his comrades, sulky and dumb.
"He limps dreadfully--when any body is looking at him," said Harris.
"Nobody killed, and only one wounded," said Frank.
"The sight of old Buckley coming with his dog would be better than asurgeon, to cure that wound," said Tucket. "You'd see Winch leg it faster'n any of us--like the old woman that had the hypo's, and hadn't walked astep for twenty years, and thought she couldn't; but one day her friendsgot up a ghost to scare her, and she ran a mile before they could ketchher."
Do you know how these jokes, and the laughter that followed, sounded onthe ear of Jack Winch? Even the bark of the rebel mastiff was music incomparison, and his bite would have hurt him less.
"By the way," said Seth, "the old skinflint will be after us, sure asguns. Hurry! or we'll hear--'The deep-mouthed bull-dog's heavy bayresounding up the rocky way, and faint, from farther distance borne, thedarned old rebel's dinner horn.' Give me that chicken, Ellis. And, boys,we must manage some way to smuggle these fowls into camp. I can carrythis chicken under my coat; but how in Sam Hill you'll manage with theturkeys, I don't see."
"I know," said Frank, always full of invention. "If nobody else has abetter plan, I've thought of a good one."
Several devices were suggested, but none met with general approbation.Then Frank explained his.
"Cover up the turkeys with evergreens, and we will go in with our armsfull, as if we were going to make wreaths for the regiment."
This plan was agreed upon, and shortly after the adventurers might havebeen seen returning to camp loaded down with boughs and vines. Jack alonecame in empty-handed. Frank had no turkey, and so he threw down his loadoutside the tent, where any one could examine it.
It was not long before the owner of the turkeys made his appearance,carrying to headquarters his complaint of the robbery. Unfortunately,Frank was not only known as a drummer boy, but he wore the letter of hiscompany on his cap. Besides, his youth rendered his identificationcomparatively easy. As might hav
e been expected, therefore, he was sooncalled to an account. Captain Edney himself came to investigate thematter, accompanied by the secessionist.
"That's the boy," said Buckley, with determined vindictiveness, whenFrank was arraigned before him.
Frank could not help looking a little pale, for he felt that he was in abad scrape, and how he was to get out of it, without either lying orbetraying his accomplices, he could not see. He did not care so muchabout himself, but he would not for any thing have borne witness againstthe others. He had almost made up his mind to tell a sturdy falsehood, ifnecessary,--to stoop to a dishonorable thing in order to avoid another,which he considered even more damaging to his character. For such iscommonly the result of wrongdoing; one step taken, you must take anotherto retrieve that. One foot in the mire, you must put the other in to getthat out.
However, the drummer boy still hoped that by putting a bold face on thematter, and prevaricating a little, he might still keep clear of thatthing he had been taught always to abhor--a downright untruth.
"This man brings serious charges against you, Frank," said Captain Edney.
"I should think it was for me to bring charges against him," repliedFrank, trying to look indignant.
"Why, what has he done to you?" The captain could not help smiling as hespoke, and Frank felt encouraged.
"He's a rebel of the worst kind. He is always insulting the federaluniform, and he seems to think that whoever wears it is a villain. Hethreatened to set his dog on me the other day, and to-day he was going toknock me down with his gun."
"What was he going to knock you down for? You must have done something toprovoke him."
"Yes, I did!" said Frank, boldly. "I went to his house, and asked him, inthe politest way I could, if he would sell us fellows a turkey. I mighthave known that it would provoke him, for he has been heard to say he'drather his turkeys should die in the pen than that a Union soldier shouldhave one, even for money."
It was evident to the secessionist that instead of making out a caseagainst the boy, the boy was fast making out a case against him. In hisimpatience he broke forth into violent denunciations of Frank, butCaptain Edney stopped him.
"None of that, sir, or I'll send you out of the camp forthwith. Hesays,"--turning to Frank,--"that you decoyed him into the woods whileyour companions stole his turkeys."
"Decoyed him?" said Frank. "He may call it what he pleases. I'll tell youjust what I did, sir. He said he hadn't any turkeys. So I said, 'Then theone I heard in the woods, as I came along, isn't yours--is it?'"
"Had you heard one?"
"I had heard a noise so much like one,"--laughing,--"that he himself,when he heard it, was ready to swear it was his gobbler."
"And was it really a turkey?"
"No, sir. It was Seth Tucket hid behind the bushes."
Frank was now conscious of making abundant fun for his comrades, who allcrowded around, listening with delight to the investigation. Even CaptainEdney smiled, as he gave a glance at the green-looking, seriously-winkingSeth.
"So it was you that played the gobbler, Tucket," said the captain.
"I hope there wan't no great harm in't ef I did, sir," replied Seth, withludicrous mock solemnity. "Bein' Christmas so, I thought I'd like alittle bit of turkey, sir, ef 'twant no more than the gobble. And there Iwas, enjoying it all by myself, hevin' a nice time, when this man comesup and lays claim to me for his turkey."
This sober declaration, uttered in a high key, with certain jerks of thearms and twists of the down-east features, which Seth could use with thedrollest effect, excited unrestrained mirth among the men, and made theofficer's sword-belts shake not a little with the suppressed merrimentinside.
"What do you mean by his claiming you?" asked the captain.
"He told Manly I belonged to him, and that some thieving Yankee hadstolen me." said Seth, with open eyes and mouth, as if he had been makingthe most earnest statement. "Now I'll leave it to any body ef that's so.And I guess that's about all his complaints of hevin' turkeys stoleamounts to; for ef he can make a mistake so easy in my case, he may inothers. Though mabby he means I stole the _gobble_ of one of histurkeys. I own it's a gobble I picked up somewheres, but I didn't know'twas his." And Tucket drew down his face with an expression ofincorruptible innocence.
"Well, boys," said the captain, silencing the laughter, "we have had funenough for the occasion, though it _is_ a merry Christmas. No morebuffoonery. Tucket. Were you aware, Frank, that it was Tucket, and not aturkey, in the bushes, when you took this man to the woods?"
"I rather thought it was Tucket," said Frank, "though the man stuck to itso stoutly that 'twas his gobbler, I didn't know but----"
"Never mind about that." The captain saw that it was Frank's object tolead the inquiry back to the ludicrous part of the business, and promptlychecked him. "What was your motive in deceiving him?"
"To have a little fun, sir."
"Did you not know that there was a design to rob his poultry pen?"
Frank recollected his momentary doubts as to the good faith of hiscompanions, when the dog assailed him, and thought he could make thatuncertainty the base of a strong "No, sir."
"But you know his pen was robbed?"
"No, sir, I do not know it----," Frank reflecting as he spoke, that aman cannot really _know_ any thing of which he has not been aneye-witness, and comforting his conscience with the fact that he had not_seen_ the turkeys stolen.
"Now,"--Captain Edney did not betray by look or word whether he believedor doubted the boy's assertion,--"tell me who was with you in the woods."
"Seth Tucket, sir."
"Who else?"
"O, ever so many fellows had been with me."
"Name them."
And Frank proceeded to name several who had really been with him thatmorning, but not on the forage after poultry. On being called up andquestioned, they were able to give the most positive testimony, to theeffect that they had neither stolen any fowls themselves nor been withany party that had. In the mean time the sergeant and second lieutenantinstituted a search through the company's tents, and succeeded in findinga solitary turkey, which nobody could give any account of, and whichnobody claimed. This the secessionist identified; averring that therewere also a dozen more, besides several chickens, for which redress wasdue. But not one of them could be discovered, perhaps because they wereso skilfully concealed, but more probably because those who searched werenot anxious to find.
Captain Edney accordingly paid the man for the loss of the single turkey,which he ordered sent immediately to the hospital. He also told thesecessionist that he would pay him for all the poultry he was ready toswear had been appropriated by the men of his company, provided he wouldfirst take the oath of allegiance to the United States. This Buckleysullenly refused to do, and he was immediately conducted by a guardoutside the lines. Seth Tucket followed at a short distance, saying, ashe put his hand in his pocket, as if to produce some money, "Say, friend!better le' me pay ye for that gobble I stole. Any thing in reason, yeknow."
But Buckley gave him only a glance of compressed rage, and marched off insilence, with disappointment and revenge in his heart.