9
_One More River To Cross_
"The weather is sure agin this heah war. A man's either frizzled cleanoutta his saddle by the heat--or else his hoss's belly's deep in the mudan' he gits him a gully-washer down the back of his neck! Me--I'm a WestTexas boy, an' down theah we have lizard-fryin' days an' twisters thatare regular hell winds, and northers that'll freeze you solid in onelittle puff-off. But then all us boys was raised on rattlesnakes,wildcats, an' cactus juice--we're kinda hardened to such. Only I ain'tseen as how this half of the country is much better. Maybe we shouldn'thave switched our range--"
Drew grinned at Kirby's stream of whispered comment and complaint asthey wriggled their way forward through brush to look down on a Unionblockhouse and stockade guarding a railroad trestle.
"Weather don't favor either side. The Yankees have it just as bad, don'tthey?"
The Texan made a snake's noiseless progress to come even with hiscompanion's vantage point.
"Sure, but then they should ... they ought to pay up somehow for huntin'their hosses on somebody else's range. We'd be right peaceable was theyto throw their hoofs outta heah. My, my, lookit them millin' round downtheah. Jus' like a bunch of ants, ain't they? Had us one of Cap'nMorton's bull pups now, we could throw us a few shells as would make thatnest boil right over into the gully!"
"We'll do something when the General gets here," Drew promised.
Kirby nodded. "Yes, an' this heah General Forrest, too. He sure canramrod a top outfit. Jus' prances round the country so that the poorlittle blue bellies don't know when he's goin' to pop outta some bush,makin' war talk at 'em. You know, the kid's gonna be hoppin' to think hemissed this heah show--"
"At least we know where he is and what he's doin'."
Kirby propped his chin on his forearm. "Jus' 'bout now he's sittin' downat the table back theah in Meridian with a sight of fancy grub lookin'back at him. How long you think he's gonna take to bein' corraled thatway?"
"General Buford gave him strict orders personally--"
"Nice to have a general take an interest in you," Kirby commented. "YouKaintuck boys, you're scattered all through this heah army. Want to staywith Boyd 'cause he's ailin', so you jus' find you a general from yourhome state an' talk yourself into a transfer--"
"Notice you wanted me to talk you into one, too."
"Well, Missouri, Mississippi, an' Tennessee are a sight nearer Texas an'home than Virginia. Anyway, theah warn't much left of our old outfit,an' this heah Forrest is headin' up a sassy bunch. So I'm glad you didfind you a general to sling some weight an' git us into his scouts jus''cause he knew your grandpappy. Kaintucks stick together...."
There was a second of silence through which they could both hear thefaint sounds of life from the stockade.
"M' father was a Texan," Drew said suddenly.
"Now that's a right interestin' observation," Kirby remarked. "Heah Iwas all the time thinkin' you was one of these heah fast-ridin',fine-livin' gentlemen what was givin' some tone to the army. Not jus''nother range drifter from the big spaces. What part of Texas youfrom--Brazos?"
"Oh, I wasn't born there. You had a war down that way, remember?"
"You mean when Santa Anna came trottin' in with his tail high, thinkin'as how he could talk harsh to some of us Tejanos?"
"No, later than that--when some of us went down to talk harsh inMexico."
"Sure. Only I don't recollect that theah powder-burnin' contest, m'self.M'pa went ... got him these heah fancy hoss ticklers theah." Kirby movedhis hand toward the spurs he had taken off and tucked into his shirt forsafekeeping to muffle the jingle while they were on scout. "Took 'emaway from a Mex officer, personal. Me, I was too young to draw fightin'wages in that theah dust-up."
"My father wasn't too young, and he drew his wages permanent. Mygrandfather went down to Texas and brought my mother back to Kentuckyjust in time for me to appear. My grandfather didn't like Texans."
"An' maybe not your father, special?"
Drew smiled, this time mirthlessly. "Just so. You see, m' father came upfrom Texas to get his schoolin' in Kentucky. He was studyin' to be adoctor at Lexington. And he was pretty young and kind of wild. He hadone meetin'--"
"You mean one of them pistol duels?"
"Yes. So my grandfather warned him off seein' his daughter. I neverheard the rights of it, but it seems m' father didn't take kindly tobein' ordered around."
Kirby chuckled. "That theah feelin' is borned right into a Texas boy. Heprobably took the gal an' ran off with her--"
"You're guessing right. At least that's the story as I've put ittogether. Mostly nobody would tell me anything. I was the blacksheepfrom the day I was born--"
"But your ma, she'd give you the right of it."
"She died when I was born. That's another thing my grandfather hadagainst me. I was Hunt Rennie's son, and I killed my mother; that's theway he saw it."
Kirby rolled his head on his arm so that his hazel eyes were on Drew'sthin, too controlled features.
"Sounds like your grandpappy had a burr under his tail an' bucked it outon you."
"You might see it that way. You know, Anse, I'd like to see Texas--"
"After we finish up this heah war, compadre, we can jus' mosey downtheah an' look it over good. Happen you don't take to Texas, why,theah's New Mexico, the Arizona territory ... clean out to California,wheah they dip up that theah gold dust so free. Ain't nothin' sayin' aman has to stay on one range all his born days--"
"Looks like the war ain't doin' too well." Drew was watching theactivity in the stockade.
"Well, we lost us Atlanta, sure enough. An' every time we close upranks, theah's empty saddles showin'. But General Forrest, he's stilltoughenin' it out. Me, I'll trail along with him any day in the week."
"Hey!" Kirby was drawing a bead on a shaking bush. But the man edgingthrough was Hew Wilkins, General Buford's Sergeant of Scouts. He crawledup beside them to peer at the blockhouse.
"They're pullin' out!" The men in blue coats were lining up about asmall wagon train.
Wilkins used binoculars for a closer look. "Your report was right; thoseare Negro troops!"
"No wonder they're clearin' out--fast."
"Cheatin' us outta a fight," Kirby observed with mock seriousness.
"All the better. Kirby, you cut back and tell the General they're givin'us free passage. We can get the work done here, quick."
"Back to axes, eh, an' some nice dry firewood--an' see what we can do tomess up the railroads for the Yankees. Only, seems like we're messin' upa sight of railroads, all down in our own part of the country. I'd liketo be doin' this up in one of them theah Yankee states like New York,say, or Indiana. Saw me some mighty fine railroads to cut up, that timeGeneral Morgan took us on a sashay through Indiana."
Kirby got to his feet and stretched. Drew unwound his own lanky lengthto join the other.
"Maybe the old man will be leadin' us up there, too--" Wilkins put awaythe binoculars. "Rennie, we'll move on down there and see if we can pickup any information."
Two months or a little more since Harrisburg. The brazen heat had givenway to torrents in mid-August, and the rain had made quagmire traps ofroads, forming rapids of every creek and river--bogging down horses,men, and guns. But it had not bogged down Bedford Forrest. And onesection of his small force, under the command of General Buford leadingthe Kentuckians, had held the Union forces in check, while the other,under Forrest's personal leadership had swung past Smith and his bluecoats in a lightning raid on Memphis.
Now in September the rain was still falling in the mountains, keepingthe streams up to bank level. And Forrest was also on the move. Afterthe Memphis raid there had been a second honing of his army into razorsharpness, a razor to be brought down with its cutting edge across thoserailroads which carried the lifeblood of supplies to the Union armyaround Atlanta.
Blockhouses fell to dogged attack or surrendered to bluff, the bluff ofForrest's name. The Kentucky General Buford was leading his divi
sion ofthe command up the railroad toward the Elk River Bridge and that wasbelow the scouts now, being abandoned by the Union troopers.
Two factors had brought Drew into Buford's Scouts. If Dr. Cowan,Forrest's own chief surgeon, had not been the medical officer to whomDrew had by chance delivered those saddlebags of drugs, and if AbramBuford had not been a division commander, Drew might not have been ableto push through his transfer. But Cowan had spoken to Forrest, andGeneral Buford had known both the Barretts and the Mattocks all hislife.
Boyd had recovered speedily from the leg wound, but his convalescencefrom heat exhaustion and the ensuing complications was still inprogress, though he had reached the point that only General Buford'sstrict orders had kept him from this second raid into enemy territory.Now he was safe in a private home in Meridian, where he was beingtreated as a son of the house, and Drew had even managed to send aletter to Cousin Merry with that information. He only hoped that she hadreceived it.
As for the change in commands, Drew was content. Perhaps the more sosince the news had come less than two weeks earlier that John Morgan wasdead. He had gone down fighting, shooting it out with Yankee troopers ina rain-wet garden in Tennessee on a Sunday morning. Men were dying,dead ... and maybe a cause was dying, too. Drew's thought flinched awayfrom that line now, trying to keep to the job before them. There was theabandoned stockade to destroy, the trestle and bridge to knock topieces, and if they had time, the tracks to tear up, heat, and twist outof shape.
Wilkins stood behind a pile of wood cut for engine fuel. "They are onthe run, all right. Headin' toward Pulaski."
"Think they'll make a stand there?"
"One guess is as good as another. If they do, we'll smoke them out. Keep'em busy and chase 'em clean out of their hats and back to camp."
The destruction of the blockhouse and the trestle could be left to thearmy behind; the scouts moved on again.
"The boys are havin' themselves a time." Kirby returned to his post withthe advance. "Tyin' bowknots in rails gits easier all the time. Whenthis heah campaign is over, we'll know more 'bout takin' railroads apartthen the fellas who make 'em know 'bout puttin' 'em together."
"Trouble!" Drew reined in Hannibal and waved to Wilkins. "There's apicket up there...."
Kirby's gaze followed the other's pointing finger. "Kinda green at thebusiness," he commented critically. "Sorta makin' a sittin' target ofhisself. Like to tickle him up with a shot. We don't git much actionoutta this."
"I'd say we're plannin' to go in now."
A squad of Buford's advance filtered up through the trees, and anofficer, his insignia of rank two-inch strips of yellowish ribbon sewedto the collar of a mud-brown coat, was conferring with Wilkins. Then theclear notes of the bugle charge rang out.
Forrest's men were as adept as Morgan's raiders in making a show offorce seem twice the number of men actually in the field. They nowwhirled in and out of a wild pattern which should impress the Yankeepicket with the fact that at least a full regiment was advancing.
Three miles from Pulaski the Yankees made a stand, slamming back withall they had, but Buford was pushing just as hard and determinedly.Gray-brown boiled out of cover and charged, yelling. That electric sparkof reckless determination which had taken the Kentucky columns up theslope at Harrisburg flashed again from man to man. Drew tasted the oldheadiness which could sweep a man out of sanity, send him plungingahead, aware only of the waiting enemy.
The Union lines broke under those shock waves; men ran for the townbehind them. But there was no taking that town. By early afternoon theyhad them fenced in, held by a show of force. Only in the night, leavingtheir fires burning, the Confederates slipped away.
Rains hit again; guns and wagons bogged. But they kept on intorough-and-rocky country. They had taken enough horses from the Unioncorrals at the blockhouses to mount the men who had tramped patientlyalong the ruts in just that hope. Better still, sugar and coffee fromthe rich Yankee supply depot at the Brown farm was now filling Rebelstomachs.
Drew sat on his heels by a palm-sized fire, watching with weary contentthe tin pail boiling there. The aroma rising from it was one he hadalmost forgotten existed in this world of constant riding and poorforage.
"Hope it kicks in the middle an' packs double." Kirby rested a tin cupon one knee, ready and waiting. "Me, I like mine strong enough to rest ahorseshoe on ... gentlelike."
"Yankees are obligin', one way or another." Drew licked his fingersappreciatively. He had been exploring the sugar supply. "I've missedsweetenin'."
"Drink up, boys, and get ready to ride," Wilkins said, coming out of thedark. "We've marchin' orders."
Kirby reached for the pot and poured its contents, with carefulmeasurement, into each waiting cup. "Wheah to now, Sarge? Seems likewe've covered most of this heah range already."
"Huntsville. We have to locate a river crossin'."
Drew looked up. "Startin' back, Sarge?"
"Heard talk," Wilkins admitted. "Most of the blue bellies in these partsare turnin' lines to aim square at us. We can't take on all of Sherman'sbully boys--"
"Got him riled, though, ain't we? All right." Kirby was energeticallyfanning the top of his steaming cup with his free hand. "Git this downto warm m' toes, Sarge, an' I'll stick them same toes in the stirrupsan' jingle off. Come on, Drew, no man never joined up with the army togit hisself a comfortable life...."
Certainly that last statement of the Texan's was proven correct duringthe next six days. A feint toward the Yankee garrison at Huntsvilleoccupied the enemy until the wagon train and artillery moved on to theTennessee River. And along its northern banks, Buford's Scouts ranged.Already high for the season the waters were still rising. And all thetransportation they could collect were three ferry boats at Florence anda few skiffs, not enough to serve all the Confederate force pushing forthat escape route.
Athens, which Forrest had occupied on the upswing of the raid, wasalready back in Union hands, and the blue forces were closing in, in acountrywide sweep, backing the gray cavalry against the river.
By the third of October Buford had the boats in action, ferrying acrossmen, equipment, and artillery in a steady stream of night-and-day oarlabor. The stout General, mounted on a big mule, a large animal to carrya large man, gave the scouts new orders.
"Try downriver, boys. We're in a pinchers here, and they may be goin' tonip us--hard!" He rolled a big cheroot from a Yankee commissary storebetween his teeth, watching the wind whip the surface of the river intogood-sized waves about the laboring boats. "Anything usable belowFlorence ... we want to know about it, and quick!"
Wilkins led them out at a steady trot. "We'll take a look aroundNewport. Rough going, but I think I remember a place."
However, the possibilities of Wilkins' "place" did not seem toopromising to Drew when they came out on a steep bluff some miles downthe Tennessee.
"This is a heller of a river," Kirby expressed his opinion forcibly."Always spittin' back in an hombre's face. We've had plenty of troublewith it before."
They were on a bank above a slough which was not more than two hundredfeet wide. And beyond that was an island thickly overgrown with cane,oak, and hickory. The upper end of that was sandy, matted withdriftwood, some of it partially afloat again.
"Use that for a steppin' stone?" Drew asked.
"Best we're goin' to find. And if time's runnin' out, we'll be glad tohave it. Rennie, report in. We'll do some more scoutin', just to makesure there'll be no surprises later."
For more than thirty-six hours Buford had been ferrying. Artillery,wagons, and a large portion of his division were safely across. WhenDrew returned to the uproar along the river he found that the secondhalf of the retreating forces, commanded by Forrest, were in town. Andit was to Forrest that Drew was ordered to deliver his report.
He would never forget the first glimpse he'd had of Bedford Forrest--theofficer sitting his big gray charger in the midst of a battle, whirlinghis standard to attract a broken rabble of men, knitting out of t
hem, bysheer force of personality, a refreshed, striking force. Now Drew foundhimself facing quite a different person--a big, quiet, soft-spoken manwho eyed the scout with gray-blue eyes.
"You're Rennie, one of that Morgan company who joined at Harrisburg."
"Yes, suh."
"Morgan's men fought at Chickamauga ... good men, good fighters. Said sothen, never had any reason to change that. Now what's this about anisland downriver?"
Drew explained tersely, for he had a good idea that General Forrestwanted no wasting of time. Then at request he drew a rough sketch of theisland and its approaches. Forrest studied it.
"Something to keep in mind. But I want to know that it's clear. You boyspicket it. If there's any Union movement about, report it at once!"
"Yes, suh."
If Yankee scouts had sighted the island, either they had not reported itor their superiors had not calculated what its value might be for huntedmen--and to a leader who was used to improvising and carrying throughmore improbable projects than the one the island suggested.
At Shoal Creek a rear guard was holding off the Union advance which hadstarted from Athens, the two pronged pinchers General Buford hadforeseen. And now the island came into use.
Saddles and equipment were stripped from horses and piled into the boatsbrought down from Florence. Then the mounts were driven to the top ofthe bluff and over into the water some twenty feet below. Leaders ofthat leap were caught by their halters and towed behind the boats, theothers swimming after.
Men and mounts burrowed back into the concealment of those thickcanebrakes and were hidden along the southern shore of the overgrownstrip of water-enclosed land. The Union pursuers came up on the bluff,but they did not see the ferrying from the south bank of the island,ferrying which kept up night and day for some forty-eight hours.
"Cold!" Kirby and Drew crouched together behind a screen of cane on thenorth side of the island, watching the bank above for any hostile moveon the part of the enemy.
"General Forrest says no fires."
"Yeah. You know, I jus' don't like this heah spread of water.This is the second time I've had to git across it with Old ManDeath-an'-Disaster raisin' dust from my rump with a double of hisencouragin' rope. Seems like the Tennessee ain't partial to raidin'parties."
"Makes a good barrier when we're on the other side," Drew pointed outreasonably.
"So--"
Drew's Colt was already out, Kirby's carbine at ready. But the man whohad cat-footed it through the cane was General Forrest himself.
"I thought"--the General eyed them both--"I would catch some of youyoung fools loafin' back heah as if nothin' was goin' on. If you don'twant to roost heah all winter, you'd better come along. Last boats areleavin' now."
As they scrambled after their commander Drew realized that the Generalhad made it his personal business to make sure none of the north sidepickets were left behind in the last-minute withdrawal.
They piled into one of the waiting boats, catching up poles. Forresttook another. Then he balanced where he stood, glaring toward the bow ofthe boat. A lieutenant was there, his hands empty.
"You ... Mistuh--" Forrest's voice took on the ring Drew had heard atHarrisburg. "Wheah's your oar, Mistuh?"
The man was startled. "As an officer, suh--"
Still gripping his pole with one hand, the General swung out a long arm,catching the lieutenant hard on one cheek with enough force to send himover the gunwale into the river. The lieutenant splashed, flailing outhis arms, until he caught at the pole Drew extended to him. As theyhauled him aboard again, the General snorted.
"Now you, Mistuh officer, take that oar theah and git to work! If I haveto knock you over again, you can just stay in. We shall all pull out ofthis together!"
The lieutenant bent to the oar hastily as they moved out into the fullcurrent of the river.