Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)
CUDJO'S CAVE.
BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE
AUTHOR OF "NEIGHBOR JACKWOOD," "THE DRUMMER BOY," ETC.
BOSTON:J. E. TILTON AND COMPANY.1864.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, byJ. T. TROWBRIDGE,In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Districtof Massachusetts.
ELECTROTYPED AND PRINTEDBY THE BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY,4 SPRING LANE.
CONTENTS.
I. The Schoolmaster in Trouble
II. Penn and the Ruffians
III. The Secret Cellar
IV. The Search for the Missing
V. Carl and his Friends
VI. A Strange Coat for a Quaker
VII. The Two Guests
VIII. The Rover
IX. Toby's Patient has a Caller
X. The Widow's Green Chest
XI. Southern Hospitality
XII. Chivalrous Proceedings
XIII. The Old Clergyman's Nightgown has an Adventure
XIV. A Man's Story
XV. An Anti-Slavery Document on Black Parchment
XVI. In the Cave and on the Mountain
XVII. Penn's Foot Knocks Down a Musket
XVIII. Condemned to Death
XIX. The Escape
XX. Under the Bridge
XXI. The Return into Danger
XXII. Stackridge's Coat and Hat get Arrested
XXIII. The Flight of the Prisoners
XXIV. The Dead Rebel's Musket
XXV. Black and White
XXVI. Why Augustus did not Propose
XXVII. The Men with the Dark Lantern
XXVIII. Beauty and the Beast
XXIX. In the Burning Woods
XXX. Refuge
XXXI. Lysander Takes Possession
XXXII. Toby's Reward
XXXIII. Carl Makes an Engagement
XXXIV. Captain Lysander's Joke
XXXV. The Moonlight Expedition
XXXVI. Carl finds a Geological Specimen
XXXVII. Carl Keeps his Engagement
XXXVIII. Love in the Wilderness
XXXIX. A Council of War
XL. The Wonders of the Cave
XLI. Prometheus Bound
XLII. Prometheus Unbound
XLIII. The Combat
XLIV. How Augustus Finally Proposed
XLV. Master and Slave Change Places
XLVI. The Traitor
XLVII. Bread on the Waters
XLVIII. Conclusion
L'Envoy
CUDJO'S CAVE.
I.
_THE SCHOOLMASTER IN TROUBLE._
Carl crept stealthily up the bank, and, peering through the window, sawthe master writing at his desk.
In his neat Quaker garb, his slender form bent over his task, his calmyoung face dimly seen in profile, there he sat. The room was growingdark; the glow of a March sunset was fading fast from the paper on whichthe swift pen traced these words:--
"Tennessee is getting too hot for me. My school is nearly broken up, andmy farther stay here is becoming not only useless, but dangerous. Thereare many loyal men in the neighborhood, but they are overawed by thereckless violence of the secessionists. Mobs sanctioned by self-styledvigilance committees override all law and order. As I write, I can hearthe yells of a drunken rabble before my school-house door. I am anespecial object of hatred to them on account of my northern birth andprinciples. They have warned me to leave the state, they have threatenedme with southern vengeance, but thus far I have escaped injury. How longthis reign of terror is to last, or what is to be the end----"
A rap on the window drew the writer's attention, and, looking up, hesaw, against the twilight sky, the broad German face of the boy Carldarkening the pane. He stepped to raise the sash.
"What is it, Carl?"
The lad glanced quickly around, first over one shoulder, then the other,and said, in a hoarse whisper,--
"Shpeak wery low!"
"Was it you that rapped before?"
"I have rapped tree times, not loud, pecause I vas afraid the men wouldhear."
"What men are they?"
"The Wigilance Committee's men! They have some tar in a kettle. Theyhave made a fire unter it, and I hear some of 'em say, 'Run, boys, andpring some fedders.'"
"Tar and feathers!" The young man grew pale. "They have threatened it,but they will not dare!"
"They vill dare do anything; but you shall prewent 'em! See vat I haveprought you!" Carl opened his jacket, and showed the handle of arevolver. "Stackridge sent it."
"Hide it! hide it!" said the master, quickly. "He offered it to mehimself. I told him I could not take it."
"He said, may be when you smell tar and see fedders, you vill changeyour mind," answered Carl.
The schoolmaster smiled. The pallor of fear which had surprised him foran instant, had vanished.
"I believe in a different creed from Mr. Stackridge's, honest man as heis. I shall not resist evil, but overcome evil with good, if I can; if Icannot, I shall suffer it."
"You show you vill shoot some of 'em, and they vill let you go," saidCarl, not understanding the nobler doctrine. "Shooting vill do some ofthem willains some good!" his placid blue eyes kindling, as if he wouldlike to do a little of the shooting. "You take it?"
"No," said the young man, firmly. "Such weapons are not for me."
"Wery vell!" Carl buttoned his jacket over the revolver. "Then you comemit me, if you please. Get out of the vinder and run. That is pest, Isuppose."
"No, no, my lad. I may as well meet these men first as last."
"Then I vill go and pring help!" suddenly exclaimed, the boy; and awayhe scampered across the fields, leaving the young man alone in thedarkening school-room.
It was not a very pleasant situation to be in, you may well believe. Ashe closed the sash, a faint odor of tar was wafted in on the eveningbreeze. The voices of the ruffians at the door grew louder and moremenacing. He knew they were only waiting for the tar to heat, for theshadows of night to thicken, and for him to make his appearance. Hereturned to his desk, but it was now too dark to write. He could barelysee to sign his name and superscribe the envelope. This done, hebuttoned his straight-fitting brown coat, put on his modest hat, andstood pondering in his mind what he should do.
A young man scarcely twenty years old, reared in the quiet atmosphere ofa community of Friends, and as unaccustomed, hitherto, to scenes ofstrife and violence as the most innocent child,--such was Penn Hapgood,teacher of the "Academy" (as the school was proudly named) inCurryville. This was the first great trial of his faith and courage. Hehad not taken Carl's advice, and run, because he did not believe that hecould escape the danger in that way. And as for fighting, that was notin his heart any more than it was in his creed. But to say he did notdread to meet his foes at the door, that he felt no fear, would bespeaking falsely. He was afraid. His entire nature, delicate body andstill more delicate soul, shrank from the ordeal. He went to the outerdoor, and laid his hand on the bolt, but could not, for a long time,summon resolution to open it.
As he hesitated, there came a loud thump on one of the panels whichnearly crushed it in, and filled the hollow building with ominousechoes.
"Make ready in thar, you hound of a abolitionist!" shouted a brutalvoice; "we're about ready fur ye!" Penn's hand drew back. I dare say ittrembled, I dare say his face turned white again, as he felt the dangerso near. How could he confront, with his sensitive spirit, thosemerciless, coarse men?
"I'll wait a little," he thought within himself. "Perhap
s Carl _will_bring help."
There were good sturdy Unionists in the place, men who, unlike thePennsylvania schoolmaster, believed in opposing evil with evil, force byforce. Only last night, one of them entered this very school-room,bolted the door carefully, and sat down to unfold to the young master ascheme for resisting the plans of the secessionists. It was a league forcircumventing treason; for keeping Tennessee in the Union; forpreserving their homes and families from the horrors of the impendingcivil war. The conspirators had arms concealed; they met in secretplaces; they were watching for the hour to strike. Would theschoolmaster join them? Strange to say, they believed in him as a manwho had abilities as a leader, "an undeveloped fighting man"--he, PennHapgood, the Quaker! Penn smiled, as he declined the farmer's offer of acommission in the secret militia, and refused to accept the weapon ofself-defence which the same earnest Unionist had proffered him again,through Carl, the German boy, this night.
Penn thought of these men now, and hoped that Carl would haste and bringthem to the rescue. Then immediately he blushed at his own cowardlyinconsistency; for something in his heart said that he ought not to wishothers to do for him what he had conscientious scruples against doingfor himself.
"I'll go out!" he said, sternly, to his trembling heart.
But he would first make a reconnoissance through the keyhole. He looked,and saw one ruffian stirring the fire under the tar kettle, anotherdisplaying a rope, and two others alternately drinking from a bottle. Hestarted back, as the thundering on the panel was repeated, and the samevoice roared out, "You kin be takin' off them clo'es of yourn; the taris about het!"
"I'll wait a few minutes longer for Carl!" said Penn to himself, with along breath.
Unfortunately, Carl was not just now in a situation to render muchassistance.
Although he had arrived unseen at the window, he did not retireundiscovered. He had run but a short distance when a gruff voice orderedhim to stop. He had a way, however, of misunderstanding English when hechose, and interpreted the command to mean, run faster. Receiving it inthat sense, he obeyed. Somebody behind him began to run too. In short,it was a chase; and Carl, glancing backwards, saw long-legged SilasRopes, one of the ringleaders of the mob, taking appalling strides afterhim, across the open field.
There were some woods about a quarter of a mile away, and Carl made forthem, trusting to their shelter and the shades of night to favor hisescape. He was fifteen years old, strong, and an excellent runner. Hedid not again look behind to see if Silas was gaining on him, butattended strictly to his own business, which was, to get into thethickets as soon as possible. His success seemed almost certain; a fewrods more, and the undergrowth would be reached; and he wascongratulating himself on having thus led away from the schoolmaster oneof his most desperate enemies, when he rushed suddenly almost into thearms of two men,--or rather, into a feather-bed, which they werefetching by the corner of the wood lot.
"Ketch that Dutchman!" roared Silas. And they "ketched" him.
"What's the Dutchman done?" said one of the men, throwing himself lazilyon the feather-bed, while his companion held Carl for his pursuer.
"I don't know," said Carl, opening his eyes with placid wonder. "Itought he vas vanting to run a race mit me."
"A race, you fool!" said Silas, seizing and shaking him. "Didn't youhear me tell ye to stop?"
"Did you say _shtop_?" asked Carl, with a broad smile. "It ish weryqueer! Ven it sounded so much as if you said _shtep_! so I _shtepped_just as fast as I could."
"What was you thar at the winder fur?"
"Vot vinder?" said Carl.
"Of the Academy," said Silas.
"O! to pe sure! I vas there," said Carl. "Pecause I left my books inthere last week, and I vas going to get 'em. But I saw somebody in thehouse, and I vas afraid."
"Wasn't it the schoolmaster?"
"I shouldn't be wery much surprised if it vas the schoolmaster," saidCarl, with blooming simplicity.
"You lying rascal! what did you say to him through the winder?"
Carl looked all around with an expression of mild wonder, as ifexpecting somebody else to answer.
"Why don't you speak?" And Silas gave his arm a fierce wrench.
"Vat did you say?"
"I said, you lying rascal!----"
"That is not my name," said Carl, "and I tought you vas shpeaking tosomebody else. I tought you vas conwersing mit this man," pointing atthe fellow on the bed.
"Dan Pepperill!" said Silas, turning angrily on the recumbent figure,"what are you stretching your lazy bones thar fur? We're waiting furthem feathers, and you'll git a coat yourself, if you don't show alittle more of the sperrit of a gentleman! You don't act as if yourheart was in this yer act of dooty we're performin', any more'n as ifyou was a northern mudsill yourself!"
"Wal, the truth is," said Dan Pepperill, reluctantly getting up from thebed, and preparing to shoulder it, "the schoolmaster has allus treatedme well, and though I hate his principles,----"
"You don't hate his principles, neither! You're more'n half aabolitionist yourself! And I swear to gosh," said Silas, "if you don'tdo your part now----"
"I will! I'm a-going to!" said Dan, with something like a groan."Though, as I said, he has allus used me well----"
"Shet up!" Silas administered a kick, which Dan adroitly caught in thebed. Mr. Ropes got his foot embarrassed in the feathers, lost hisbalance, and fell. Dan, either by mistake or design, fell also, tumblingthe bed in a smothering mass over the screaming mouth and coarse rednose of the prostrate Silas.
The third man, who was guarding Carl, began to laugh. Carl laughed too,as if it was the greatest joke in the world; to enhance the fun ofwhich, he gave his man a sudden push forwards, tripped him as he went,and so flung him headlong upon the struggling heap. This pleasant feataccomplished, he turned to run; but changed his mind almost instantly;and, instead of plunging into the undergrowth, threw himself upon theaccumulating pile.
There he scrambled, and kicked, with his heels in the air, and rolledover the topmost man, who rolled over Mr. Pepperill, who rolled over thefeather-bed, which rolled again over Mr. Ropes, in a most lively andedifying manner.
At this interesting juncture Carl's reason for changing his mind andremaining, became manifest. Two more of the chivalry from the tar kettlecame rushing to the spot, and would speedily have seized him had heattempted to get off. So he staid, thinking he might be helping themaster in this way as well as any other.
And now the miscellaneous heap of legs and feathers began to resolveitself into its original elements. First Carl was pulled off by one ofthe new comers; then Dan and the man Carl had sent to comfort him fellto blows, clinched each other, and rolled upon the earth; and lastly,Mr. Silas Ropes arose, choked with passion and feathers, from under therent and bursting bed. The two squabbling men were also quickly on theirfeet, Mr. Pepperill proving too much for his antagonist.
"What did you pitch into me fur?" demanded Silas, threatening his friendDan.
"What did Gad pitch into me fur?" said the irate Dan, shaking his fistat Gad.
"What did you push and jump on to me fur?" said Gad, clutching Carl, whowas still laughing.
Thus the wrath of the whole party was turned against the boy.
"Pless me!" said he, staring innocently, "I tought it vas all forshport!"
The furious Mr. Ropes was about to convince him, by some violent act, ofhis mistake, when cries from the direction of the school-house calledhis attention.
"See what's there, boys!" said Silas.
"Durn me," said Mr. Pepperill, looking across the field as he brushedthe feathers from his clothes, "if it ain't the master himself!"
In fact, Penn had by this time summoned courage to slip back the bolt,throw open the school-house door, and come out.
The gentlemen who were heating the tar and drinking from the bottle weretaken by surprise. They had not expected that the fellow would come outat all, but wait to be dragged out. Their natural conclusion was, thathe was arme
d; for he appeared with as calm and determined a front as ifhe had been perfectly safe from injury himself, while it was in hispower to do them some fatal mischief. They could not understand how themere consciousness of his own uprightness, and a sense of reliance onthe arm of eternal justice, could inspire a man with courage to face somany.
"My friends," said Penn, as they beset him with threats and blasphemy,"I have never injured one of you, and you will not harm me."
And as if some deity held an invisible shield above him, he passed by;and they, in their astonishment, durst not even lay their hands uponhim.
"I've hearn tell he was a Quaker, and wouldn't fight," muttered one;"but I see a revolver under his coat!"
"Where's Sile? Where's Sile Ropes?" cried others, who, though themselvesunwilling to assume the responsibility of seizing the young master,would have been glad to see Silas attempt it.
Great was the joy of Carl when he saw Mr. Hapgood walking through theguard of ruffians untouched. But, a moment after, he uttered aninvoluntary groan of despair. It was Penn's custom to cross the fieldsin going from the Academy to the house where he boarded, and his pathwound by the edge of the woods, where Silas and his accomplices were atthis moment gathering up the spilt feathers.
"All right!" said Mr. Ropes, crouching down in order to remain concealedfrom Penn's view. "This is as comf'table a place to do our dooty by himas any to be found. Keep dark, boys, and let him come!"