Read Frank on a Gun-Boat Page 12


  CHAPTER XII.

  The Escape.

  Frank, as may be supposed, was not at all pleased with the prospectbefore him. He had often heard escaped prisoners relate sad stories ofthe treatment they had received while in the hands of the rebels; and,as he knew that they cherished an especial hatred toward gun-boatmen,he could not hope to fare very well.

  The place where he was confined was in the lower part of the fort,directly in range of the shells from the iron-clads, and Frankexpected to be struck by them every moment, for the pieces flew abouthim in all directions. Oh, how he prayed that the fort might be taken!He could see that one of their heaviest guns was dismounted, and alarge detail of men was constantly occupied in carrying off the deadand wounded.

  The firing continued until four o'clock in the afternoon, and thenthe gun-boats suddenly withdrew. The rebels cheered loudly as theydisappeared around a bend in the river, and Frank gave up all hope:nothing now remained for him but a long captivity.

  That evening, as soon as it was dark, he, with the other prisoners,was marched on board the General Quitman, a large steamer, lying justbelow the fort, and carried to Haines' Bluff, and from thence theywent by rail to Vicksburg. Here Frank was separated from his men, andconfined, for two days, with several army officers, in a small room inthe jail. Early on the third morning he was again taken out, and sentacross the river, into Louisiana, with about three hundred others.Their destination, he soon learned, was Tyler, a small town inTexas, where most of the Union prisoners captured in Mississippi wereconfined.

  They were guarded by a battalion of cavalry, under command of thenotorious Colonel Harrison, who called themselves the "LouisianaWild-cats." Frank had never before seen this noted regiment, and hefound that they were very appropriately named; for a more ferociouslooking set of men he had never met. They all wore long hair andwhiskers; and their faces looked as though they had never beenacquainted with soap and water. They were armed with rifles,Bowie-knives, and revolvers, and seemed to take pleasure in boastingof the number of women and children and unarmed men they had slain.

  They had not made more than a day's march, when Frank found that histroubles were just commencing. He was not accustomed to marching, andhis feet soon became so swollen that he could scarcely stand on them.The heat was almost intolerable; the roads were very dusty, and theplaces where they were allowed to obtain water were many miles apart.Besides, as if to add to their sufferings, the rebels were continuallystealing from the prisoners, and, finally, some of them were left withscarcely any clothing; and if the poor fellows ventured to remonstrateagainst such treatment, they were shot or bayoneted on the spot.

  On the fourth day of the march, Frank noticed a soldier, just inadvance of him, who was so weak that he could scarcely keep his feet.He had been wounded in the arm, at the late battle before Vicksburg,but not the least notice had been taken of it by the rebels, and hewas suffering the most intense agony. Frank, although scarcely able tosustain himself, owing to the swollen condition of his feet, offeredhis assistance, which the poor fellow was glad enough to accept. Buthe continued to grow weaker every moment, and, finally, in spite ofFrank's exertions, fell prostrate in the road.

  "What's the matter here?" inquired the colonel, who happened to beriding by.

  "This man isn't able to go any further," replied Frank.

  "Then he doesn't need any of your help, you young Abolitionist; getback to your place! Here, Stiles," he continued, beckoning to one ofhis men and bending upon him a glance of peculiar meaning, "you stayhere until this man dies."

  The colonel rode up to the head of the column again, and Frank wasobliged to move on with the others. But he could not relieve his mindof a feeling that something more dreadful than any thing he had yetseen was about to take place. He frequently turned and looked back,and saw the man lying where he had fallen, and the rebel, who haddismounted from his horse, standing over him, leaning on his rifle. Atlength a bend in the road hid them from sight. In a few moments, Frankheard the report of a gun, and presently the rebel rode up, with thecoat, pants, and boots which had once belonged to the soldier, hangingon his arm. Such scenes as this were enacted every day; but, for someunaccountable reason, Frank was not molested, beyond having his bootsstolen one night while he was asleep. He had made up his mind that hewould escape at the first opportunity; but he was in no condition totravel, and, besides, the sight of several ferocious blood-hounds,which accompanied the rebels, was enough to deter him from making theattempt.

  After a march of two weeks, during which he suffered more than he hadthought it possible for him to endure, they arrived at Shreveport.Here they encamped for the night, with the understanding that theywere to start for Tyler--which was one hundred and ten miles furtheron--early the next morning. Frank concluded that he had walked aboutfar enough. "If I intend to escape," he soliloquized, "I might as wellstart from here as from Tyler. I'll play off sick, and see if I can'tget them to leave me here; and then, as soon as I become strong enoughto travel, I'll be missed some fine day."

  Accordingly, the next morning, when the prisoners were ordered to"fall in," Frank did not stir; and, when the sergeant came to arousehim, he appeared to be in the greatest agony. So well did he play hispart, that the doctor declared that it was impossible for him to goon; and he was accordingly left behind. As soon as the prisonershad gone, he was carried to the hospital, which was a large brickbuilding, standing on the outskirts of the town. The lower floor wasused as a barrack for the soldiers who guarded the building, and theupper rooms as a hospital and guard-house. Frank found about fifteenFederal soldiers, and as many rebels, who were confined for variousoffenses, principally desertion.

  Frank soon became acquainted with his fellow-prisoners, and thestories they told of their treatment made the cold sweat start out allover him; but when he spoke of escape, he was surprised to find thatthere was not one among them who dared to make the attempt. But thisdid not alter his determination. He resolved that, rather thanremain in prison, he would go alone. He grew stronger every day, andsucceeded in securing a pair of shoes, and a compass, for which hegave the last shirt he had. His determination was to take to thewoods, until he had escaped pursuit, and then strike for Red River.He knew that this route would bring him out a good distance belowVicksburg, but still it would be easier and safer than travelingacross the country; and he hoped that the rebel stronghold would betaken by the time he reached the Mississippi River.

  Finally, one dark night--after he had well matured his plans--heconcluded to make the trial. So, waiting until every one in the roomappeared to be asleep--for he had been told that there were some whomust know nothing of his intention--he carefully raised one of thewindows, and looked out. He had made all his observations beforehand,and knew that the window was about twenty feet above the ground. Hehad tried in vain to obtain a rope strong enough to assist him in hisdescent; and his only alternative was, to hang by his hands and "drop"to the ground, where, he hoped, aided by the darkness, to escape thefire of the guards.

  He was crawling noiselessly out of the window, when he was startled bythe creaking of the stairs, as if some one was descending them; and,at the same time, hasty footsteps sounded under the window. Frank sawthat he had been discovered, and, hastily climbing back into the room,he closed the window and threw himself on the floor, and appeared tobe fast asleep.

  "Very well done!" exclaimed an officer, who suddenly appeared at thetop of the stairs. "Very well done, indeed. Now, you young Yankee,I don't want to see you try that move again. If you do, I shall beobliged to shoot you. Do you understand?"

  Frank replied in the affirmative; and the officer, after satisfyinghimself that the prisoners were all in the room, went below again,leaving a guard at the head of the stairs, who kept a close watch uponFrank until morning.

  He was a good deal annoyed and perplexed at the unsuccessfultermination of his adventure; but he could not make up his mind whatit was that had led to his discovery. Still, he was not discouraged;but, in spi
te of the officer's warning, determined to renew hisattempt at escape, as soon as an opportunity was offered.

  The next day, while he was eating his scanty dinner, the lieutenantin charge of the prisoners came in, and, as was his custom, began toargue with them as to the probable termination of the war. Frankhad always hoped that he would let him alone, for the lieutenantinvariably became enraged if the prisoners endeavored to uphold theirGovernment.

  "Well, young man," he exclaimed, walking up to Frank, "how do you getalong?"

  "As well as can be expected, I suppose," answered Frank.

  "How do you relish being a prisoner? Are you not sorry that you evertook up arms against us?"

  "No, I am not," answered Frank, indignantly, "You'll have to fight meagain, as soon as I get out of this scrape."

  "What made you come down here to fight us?"

  "Because I thought you needed a good drubbing."

  "Well, we haven't had it yet;" said the lieutenant, stroking hismoustache. "Why didn't you take Fort Pemberton? You got the worst ofit there. We sunk the Ticonderoga."

  "Oh, yes," answered Frank, with a sneer, "no doubt of it. But, on thewhole, I think you had better tell that to the marines."

  "You don't believe it, then! Well, how do you think this war is goingto end?"

  "Now, see here," said Frank, "I wish you would travel on, and letme alone. I am a prisoner, and in your power; and I don't want to beabused for speaking my mind; for, if I answer your questions at all, Ishall say just what I think."

  "That is what I like," said the lieutenant. "You need not be afraid tospeak your mind freely. Now, tell me, how do you think this strugglewill end?"

  "There is only one way for it to end, and that is in yoursubjugation."

  "But what is your object in fighting us?"

  "To preserve the Union!"

  "You're a liar!" shouted the lieutenant. "You're fighting to free theniggers."

  "Well, have it your own way," answered Frank. "But, if I'm a liar,you're a gentleman, so take it and go on. You need not ask me any morequestions, for I shan't answer them."

  The lieutenant muttered something about hanging every Yankee he couldcatch if he could have his own way, and moved away; and Frank was leftto finish his dinner in peace.

  That afternoon, a soldier, whose name was Cabot, came and sat downbeside Frank, and inquired:

  "Didn't you try to escape last night?"

  "Yes, but I was discovered."

  "You would not have been, if one of our own men hadn't split on you."

  "What!" exclaimed Frank, "you don't pretend to say that a Federalsoldier was mean enough to inform against me?"

  "Yes, I do; and there he stands now." And, as Cabot spoke, he pointedto a tall, hard-featured man standing by the window, looking outinto the street. "I slept at the head of the stairs last night, anddistinctly heard him tell the guards that you were intending to leave.His name is Bishop, and he belongs to the Thirtieth Maine Regiment. Hehas for some time past been trying to be allowed to take the oath ofallegiance to the South." [Footnote: A fact.]

  "What will he do then?" inquired Frank; "go into the rebel army?"

  "No, but he could be employed here in the arsenal, making bullets tokill our own men with."

  "The scoundrel!" exclaimed Frank, indignantly; "I didn't suppose therewas a man from my own State who could be guilty of such meanness."

  "He is mean enough for any thing. Haven't you noticed that every nighthe comes around through our quarters with a candle?"

  "Yes; but I don't know what he does it for."

  "Well, he counts us every night before he goes to sleep, and, in fact,comes through our room two or three times in the night, to see thatnone of us have escaped. He hopes in that manner to gain favor withthe rebels. I have told you this, in order that you may look out forhim the next time you try to escape."

  Frank was astounded at this intelligence, and, at first, he did notbelieve it. But that evening, about nine o'clock, Bishop came in, asusual, with his candle, and Frank inquired:

  "What made you tell the guard that I was going to escape last night?"

  The question was asked so suddenly--and in a manner which showedBishop that Frank was well acquainted with his treachery--that hedared not deny the charge, and he answered:

  "Because, when any of our boys escape, the guards are awful hard onthose of us that are left."

  "That's no excuse at all," answered Frank. "If you were a man, youwould have endeavored to escape long ago, instead of staying hereand trying to make friends with the enemies of your country. You'rea black-hearted scoundrel and traitor! and I tell you, once for all,that if you ever come into my quarters again after dark, you'll nevergo out alive. We all know about your operations here."

  Bishop made no reply, but turned to walk on, when Frank rose to hisfeet, and exclaimed:

  "Hold on, here! you are not going through this room with that candle.Go back instantly where you belong, and don't show your face in hereagain."

  Bishop saw that Frank was in earnest, and, without saying a word, heturned and walked into his quarters.

  Frank had a twofold object in talking to him as he did. He wanted tolet him know that his fellow-prisoners all knew what he had done, andhe wished, also, to deter him from coming into that room again, as hehad determined to make another attempt at escape that very night. Thetraitor had no sooner disappeared than Frank descended the stairs thatled down into the hall, at the foot of which there were two guardsposted.

  "Hallo, Yank!" said one of them, as Frank came down, "I reckon ashow you had better travel right back up sta'rs agin, 'cause it's aginorders to 'low you fellers to come down here a'ter dark."

  "I know it is," answered Frank; "but it is so awful hot up stairs thatI can't stand it. You'll let me stay down here long enough to cool offa little, won't you?"

  "Wal," answered the guard, who really seemed to be a kind-heartedfellow, "I reckon as how you mought stay here a minit; but you mustn'tstay no longer."

  "All right," answered Frank; and he seated himself on the lower step,and talked with the guards until he was informed that it was high timehe was "travelin' back up sta'rs."

  "Very well," answered Frank, rising to his feet, and stretchinghimself, "I'll go, if you want me to."

  And he _did_ go. With one bound he dashed by the astonished guards,and, before they could fire a shot, he had disappeared in thedarkness.

  His escape had been accomplished much easier than he had anticipated.He had expected at least a shot from the guards, and, perhaps, astruggle with them; for, when he left his quarters, he had determinedto escape, or die in the attempt. In a few moments he reached thebushes that lined the road on both sides, and threw himself flat amongthem, and determined to wait until his pursuers had passed on, so thathe would be on their trail, instead of having them on his. It was wellthat he had adopted this precaution, for he had scarcely concealedhimself before the roll of a drum announced that the guards were beingaroused, and that the pursuit was about to commence; and presently asquad of cavalry dashed rapidly by, and a crashing in the bushes toldhim that a party of men were searching the woods for him. As soonas his pursuers were out of hearing, Frank rose to his feet, and ranalong the road, close to the bushes, so that, if he heard any oneapproaching, he would have a place of concealment close at hand. Hehad made, perhaps, half a mile in this way, when he discovered a manpacing up and down the road, with a musket on his shoulder. He wasevidently a picket; and Frank, knowing that his comrades were not faroff, drew back into the bushes, out of sight. Which way should he gonow? This was a question which he could not answer satisfactorily.There was, doubtless, another picket-post not far off, and if, ingoing through the woods, he should stumble upon it, he would be shotdown before he had a chance for flight. Should he attempt to pass thesentinel by strategy? This seemed to be the most feasible plan, for hewould have a much better chance to escape in running by one man, thanrisking the shots of half a dozen. Besides, he had no weapon whatever,and h
e resolved to secure the picket's gun, if possible; so, waitinguntil his back was turned, he came out of his place of concealment,and approached him.

  "Who comes there?" shouted the picket.

  "A friend," answered Frank.

  "Advance, friend, and give the countersign."

  "Never mind the countersign," answered Frank; "I haven't got it. Haveyou seen any thing of an escaped Yankee prisoner out here?"

  "No," answered the rebel, lowering his gun, which he had held at acharge bayonet. "He didn't come around here. But a company of cavalrywent by just now, and my relief went with them."

  "And left you here alone?" said Frank, who had continued to approachthe picket, until he was now within arm's length of him.

  "Yes," answered the rebel; "and I think it is a pretty way to dobusiness, for it is time I was"--

  He never finished the sentence; for Frank sprang upon him like atiger, and seizing his throat, with a powerful gripe, threw him to theground; and, hastily catching up the musket which had fallen from hisenemy's hand, dealt him a severe blow on the head. The muscles ofthe rebel instantly relaxed; and Frank--after unbuckling hiscartridge-box, and fastening it to his own waist--shouldered hismusket, and ran boldly along the road. He traveled until almostdaylight, without seeing any one, and then turned off into the woods.

  About noon, he came to a road, and, as he was crossing it, a bulletwhistled past him, and, the next moment, a party of rebels, whom hehad not noticed, dashed down the road in pursuit. Frank returned theshot, and then started for the woods, loading his musket as he went.He soon had the satisfaction of seeing that he was gaining on hispursuers, and, although the bullets whizzed by his head in unpleasantproximity, he escaped unhurt. The rebels, however, were not sofortunate; for Frank fired as fast as he could load his gun, and atevery shot a rebel measured his length on the ground.

  For almost two hours his pursuers remained within gun-shot; butfinding it impossible to capture him, or, perhaps, struck with terrorat his skill as a marksman, they abandoned the pursuit. This was alucky circumstance for Frank, for, to his astonishment and terror, hediscovered that his last cartridge had been expended. But still, hewas rejoicing over his escape, when a man rose out of the bushes,close at his side, and seized him by the collar.