CHAPTER VII. CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILK
SI AND SHORTY GO FORAGING AND ARE CAPTURED AND ROBBED
SI AND SHORTY got the common feeling of men of some months' service,that they had fully mastered the art of war, and that there was little,if anything, left for them to learn. It did not take some men even solong as months to acquire this pleasant idea of themselves. Some enteredthe army feeling quite capable of giving advice to the oldest General init, and they were not slow about offering their opinions.
Si and Shorty had had successes enough since their enlistment todevelop a self-confidence which might be pardoned if it expanded intoself-sufficiency and vanity.
The 200th Ind. had been sent out on a reconnoissance toward Shelbyville.No sign of rebels in force developed in any direction, and Si and Shortygot permission to go off on a little scout of their own.
"No use o' huntin' rebels with a brass band," said Si, who, since hisassociation with Mr. Rosenbaum, had gotten some idea that stealth andcunning were efficient war powers. "We kin jest slip around outhere somewhere, and if there is any rebels, find 'em, and git moreinformation than the whole regiment kin."
"I'm not so thirsty for information and rebels{95} as I am for somefresh buttermilk," said Shorty. "Somehow, I've been hankering forbuttermilk and cornpone for days. I hain't had any for a coon's age, andit'd go mighty good as a change from camp rations. Buttermilk and rebelssometimes grow near together. You look for one, I'll look for the other.Mebbe we kin git both."
"I wouldn't mind havin' some buttermilk an' cornpone myself," said Si."But I'd like much better to drop on some rebels somewhere, and bring'em into camp, and show that we kin git more information than the wholeregiment kin."
"All right," assented Shorty; "ask the Captain to let us go. I'll bebound we'll find something worth goin' for, if it's no more'n a chickenfor the Captain's supper. I'd like to take in one for him. He's beenmighty good to me and you in several ways, and I'd like to show him thatwe appreciate it."
As the regiment had gone as far as ordered without discovering anythingthat in the least threatened the peace in that portion of Tennessee, itwould start on its return, after the men had rested and had dinner.Si and Shorty, consequently, had no difficulty in securing the desiredpermission.
They cut off through a side-road, which gave promise of leading into abetter-settled part of the country than that they had been traversing. Amile or so of walking brought them in sight of the substantial chimneysof a farmhouse showing above the trees. A glimpse of a well-fenced fieldroused warm hopes in Shorty's heart.
"Now, I think we're comin' to a better thing than we've ever struckbefore," said he, as they stopped{96} and surveyed the prospect. "We'vegot out o' the barren plateaus and into the rich farming country. That'slikely a farm jest like they have up in Injianny, and it's way off wherethey hain't knowed nothin' o' the war. No soljer's ever anigh 'em, andthey've jest got lots and plenty o' everything. They've got a greatbig barnyard full o' chickens and turkeys, pigs and geese and guineas.There, you kin hear the guineas hollerin' now. There's cows layin' inthe shade chawin' the cud, while their calves are cavortin' around inthe sun, hogs rootin' in the woods-pasture, horses and sheep in themedder, and everything like it is at home. And down a little ways fromthe house there's a cool springhouse, with clear, cold water wellin' upand ripplin' out over the clean, white sand, with crocks o' fresh milksetting in it with cream half an inch thick, and big jars o' buttermilkfrom the last churnin', and piggins o' fresh butter, and mebbe a bigcrock full o' smearkase. Si, do you like smearkase?"
"'Deed I do," answered Si, his mouth watering at the thought. "Mygoodness, you jest orter eat some o' mother's smearkase. She jest laysover all the women in the country for smearkase. Many's the time I'vecome in hot and sweatin from the field, and got a thick slice o' breadclear acrost the loaf from one o' the girls, and went down to ourspring-house and spread it with fresh butter, and then put a thick layero' smearkase on top o' that, and then got about a quart o' cool milk,that was half cream, from ono o' the crocks, and then--"
"Shot up, Si," shouted Shorty, desperately. "Do you want me to bang youover the head with my{97} musket? Do you s'pose I kin stand everything?But I believe there's jest sich a spring-house down there, and we'llfind it plumb-full o' all them sort o' things. Le's mosey on."
"Do you think there's any rebels around here?" said Si, the cautionwhich experience had taught him making a temporary reassertion ofitself.
"Naw," said Shorty, contemtpuously, "there ain't no rebel this side o'the Duck River, unless some straggler, who'd run if he saw us. If weketch sight o' one we'll take him into camp, jest to gratify you. But Iain't lookin' for none. Buttermilk and cornpone's what I want."
The scene was certainly peaceful enough to justify Shorty's confidence.A calmer, quieter landscape could not have been found in the wholecountry. A negro was plowing in a distant field, with occasionalsonorous yells to his team. He did not seem to notice the soldiers, nordid a gray-haired white man who was sitting on the fence superintendinghim. A couple of negresses were washing the family linen by a fire undera large kettle on the creek bank, at some distance from the house, andspreading the cleansed garments out on the grass to dry and bleach.Cattle and horses were feeding on the fresh Spring grass and sheepbrowsing on the bushes on the hillside. Hens cackled and roosterscrowed; the guineas, ever on the lookout, announced their approach withshrill, crackling notes. Two or three dogs waked up and barked lazilyat them as they walked up the path to where an elderly, spectacledwoman sat on the porch knitting. She raised{98} her eyes and threw herspectacles on top of her head, and looked curiously at them.
Whatever faint misgivings Si might have had vanished at the utterpeacefulness of the scene. It was so like the old home that he had leftthat he could not imagine that war existed anywhere near. It seemed asif the camp at Murfreesboro' and the bloody field of Stone River mustbe a thousand miles away. The beds of roses and pinks which bordered thewalk were the same as decorated the front yard at home. There were thesame clumps of snowballs and lilacs at the corners of the house.
"Howdy, gentlemen?" said the woman, as they came up.
It seemed almost a wrong and insult to be carrying deadly arms in thepresence of such a woman, and Si and Shorty let their guns slip down, asif they were rather ashamed of them.
"Good day, ma'am," said Shorty, taking off his hat politely and wipinghis face. "We're lookin' around to git some cornpone and buttermilk, anddidn't know but what you might let us have some. We're willin' to payfor it."
"If you want suthin' to eat," said the woman promptly, "I kin gin itto ye. I never turn no hungry man away from my door. Wait a minnit andI'll bring ye some."
She disappeared inside the house, and Si remarked to Shorty:
"Your head's level this time, as it generally is. We'll git somethingthat's worth while comin' after."
The woman reappeared with a couple of good-size corn-dodgers in herhand.{99}
"This appears to be all the bread that's left over from dinner," shesaid. "And the meat's all gone. But the wenches 'll be through theirwashin' purty soon, and then I'll have them cook ye some more, if ye'llwait."
"Thankee, ma'am," said Shorty; "we can't wait. This'll be a plenty, ifwe kin only git some buttermilk to go with it. We don't want no meat. Wegit plenty o' that in camp."
"You can have all the buttermilk you want to drink," she answered, "ifyou'll go down to the spring-house thar and git it. It's fresh, andyou'll find a gourd right beside o' the jar. I'd go with you, but itallers gives me rheumatiz to go nigh the spring-house."
"Don't bother, ma'am, to go with us," said Shorty politely. "We are verymuch obliged to you, indeed, and we kin make out by ourselves. How muchdo we owe you?" And he pulled a greenback dollar from his pocket.
"Nothin', nothin' at all," said the woman hastily. "I don't sellvittels. Never thought o' sich a thing. Ye're welcome to all ye kin eatany time."
"Well, take the money, and let us ketch a couple of th
em chickensthere," said Shorty, laying down the bill on the banister rail.
After a little demur the woman finally agreed to this, and picked up themoney. The boys selected two fat chickens, ran them down, wrung theirnecks, and, after repeating their thanks, took their bread and startedfor the spring-house. They found it the coolest and most inviting placein the world on a hot, tiresome day--just such a spot as Shorty had{100}described. It was built of rough stones, and covered with a moss-grownroof. A copious spring poured out a flood of clear, cool water, whichflowed over white pebbles and clean-looking sand until it formed acress-bordered rivulet just beyond the house. In the water sat crocks offresh milk, a large jar of buttermilk, and buckets of butter. The looks,the cool, pure freshness of the place, were delightful{101} contrastsfrom the tiresome smells and appearances of the camp kitchens. The boysreveled in the change. They forgot all about war's alarms, stood theirrifles up against the side of the spring-house, washed their dust-grimedfaces and hands in the pure water, dried them with their handkerchiefs,and prepared to enjoy their meal. How good the buttermilk tasted alongwith the cornpone. The fresh milk was also sampled, and some of thebutter spread upon their bread.
Si even went to the point of declaring that it was almost as good asthe things he used to eat at home, which was the highest praise he couldpossibly give to any food. Si never found anywhere victuals or cookingto equal that of his mother.
He was pointing out to Shorty, as they munched, the likenesses andunlikenesses of this spring-house to that on the Wabash, when they werestartled by the stern command:
"Surrender, there, you infernal Yankees!"
UNDESIRABLE ACQUAINTANCES. 100]
They looked up with startled eyes to stare into a dozen muskets leveledstraight at their heads from the willow thickets. Corn-dodgers andmilk-gourds dropped into the water as they impulsively jumped to theirfeet.
"If yo'uns move we'uns 'll blow the lights outen yo'uns," shouted theleader of the rebels. "Hold up yer hands."
It was a moment of the most intense anguish that either of them had everknown. Their thoughts were lightning-like in rapidity. The rebel muzzleswere not a rod away, their aim was true, and it{102} would be madness torisk their fire, for it meant certain death.
The slightest move toward resistance was suicide.
Si gave a deep groan, and up went his hands at the same moment withShorty's.
The rebels rushed out of the clump of willows behind which they hadcrept up on the boys, and surrounded them. Two snatched up their guns,and the others began pulling off their haversacks and other personalproperty as their own shares of the booty. In the midst of this, Silooked around, and saw the woman standing near calmly knitting.
"You ain't so afeared o' rheumatism all at once," he said bitterly.
"My rheumatiz has spells, young man, same ez other people's," sheanswered, pulling one of the needles out, and counting the stitches withit. "Sometimes it is better, and sometimes it is wuss. Jest now it is agreat deal better, thankee. I only wisht I could toll the whole Yankeearmy to destruction ez easy ez you wuz. My, but ye walked right in,like the fly to the spider. I never had nothin' do my rheumatiz so muchgood."
And she cackled with delight. "When you git through," she continued,addressing the leader of the rebels, "come up to the house, and I'llhave some dinner cooked for ye. I know ye're powerful tired an'hungry. I s'pose nothin' need be cooked for them," and she pointedher knitting-needle contemptuously at Si and Shorty. "Ole Satan will bepurvidin' fur them. I'll take these along to cook fur ye."{103}
She gathered up the dead chickens and stalked back to the house.
"Ef we're gwine t' shoot they'uns le's take they'uns over thar on theknoll, whar they'uns won't spile nothin'," said one evil-looking man,who had just ransacked Si's pockets and appropriated everything in them."Hit'd be too bad t' kill they'uns here right in sight o' the house."
"Le'me see them letters, Bushrod;" said the leader, snatching a packageof letters and Annabel's picture out of the other's hand. "Mebbe thar'ssome news in them that the Captain'd like to have."
Si gnashed his teeth as he saw the cherished missives rudely torn openand scanned, and especially when the ambrotype case was opened andAnnabel's features made the subject of coarse comment. The imminentprospect of being murdered had a much lighter pang.
While the letters and ambrotype were being looked over the process ofrobbery was going on. One had snatched Si's cap, another had pulled offhis blouse, and there was a struggle as to who should have possession ofhis new Government shoes, which were regarded as a great prize. Si hadresisted this spoliation, but was caught from behind and held, despitehis kicks and struggles, while the shoes were pulled off. Shorty wastreated in the same way.
THE SPOILS OF WAR 105]
In a few minutes both, exhausted by their vigorous resistance, wereseated on the ground, with nothing left on them but their pantaloons,while their captors were quarreling over the division of their personaleffects, and as to what disposition was to be made of them. In thecourse of the discussion{104} the boys learned that they had beencaptured by a squad of young men from the immediate neighborhood, whohad been allowed to go home on furlough, had been gathered together whenthe regiment appeared, and had been watching every movement from safecoverts. They had seen Si and Shorty leave, and had carefully doggedtheir steps until such moment as they could pounce on them.
"Smart as we thought we wuz," said Si bitterly, "we played right intotheir hands. They tracked us down jest as if we'd bin a couple o'rabbits, and ketched us jest when they wanted us."
He gave a groan which Shorty echoed.
Bushrod and two others were for killing the two boys then and there andending the matter.
"They orter be killed, Ike, right here," said Bushrod to the leader."They deserve it, and we'uns hain't got no time to fool. We'uns can'ttake they'uns back with we'uns, ef we wanted to, and I for one don'twant to. I'd ez soon have a rattlesnake around me."
But Ike, the leader, was farther-seeing. He represented to the othersthe vengeance the Yankees would take on the people of the neighborhoodif they murdered the soldiers.
This developed another party, who favored taking the prisoners to somedistance and killing them there, so as to avoid the contingency that Ikehad set forth. Then there were propositions to deliver them over to theguerrilla leaders, to be disposed of as they pleased.
Finally, it occurred to Ike that they were talking entirely too freelybefore the prisoners, unless they{105} intended to kill them outright,for they were giving information in regard to the position andoperations of rebel bands that might prove dangerous. He drew his squadoff a little distance to continue the discussion. At first they kepttheir eyes on the prisoners and their guns ready to fire, but as theytalked they lost their watchful attitude in the eagerness of makingtheir points.
Si looked at Shorty, and caught an answering gleam. Like a flash bothwere on their feet and started on a mad rush for the fence. Bushrodsaw{106} them start, and fired. His bullet cut off a lock of Si's auburnhair. Others fired as fast as they could bring their guns up, and thebullets sang viciously around, but none touched the fugitives. Theirbare feet were torn by the briars as they ran, but they thought not ofthese. They plunged into the blackberry briars along the fence, climbedit, and gained the road some distance ahead of their pursuers, who werenot impelled by the fear of immediate death to spur them on. Up the roadwent Si and Shorty with all the speed that will-power could infuse intotheir legs. Some of the rebels stopped to reload; the others ran after.A score of noisy dogs suddenly waked up and joined in the pursuit. Theold white man mounted his horse and came galloping toward the house.
On the boys ran, gaining, if anything, upon the foremost of the rebels.The dogs came nearer, but before they could do any harm the boys haltedfor an instant and poured such a volley of stones into them that theyran back lamed and yelping. The fleetest-footed of the rebels, who wasthe sanguinary Bushrod, also came within a stone's throw, and receiveda well-aime
d bowlder from Si's muscular hand full in his face. Thischeered the boys so that they ran ahead with increased speed, andfinally gained the top of the hill from which they had first seen thefarmhouse.
They looked back and saw their enemies still after them. Ike had takenthe old man's horse and was coming on a gallop. They knew he had arevolver, and shivered at the thought. But both stooped and selected thebest stones to throw, to attack him with{107} as soon as he came withinrange. They halted a minute to get their breath and nerve for the goodeffort. Ike had reached a steep, difficult part of the road, where hishorse had to come down to a walk and pick his way.
AN UNCOMFORTABLE SITUATION 107]
"Now, Si," said Shorty, "throw for your life, if you never did before.I'm goin' to git him. You take his horse's head. Aim for that whiteblaze in his forehead."
Si concentrated his energy into one supreme effort.{108}
He could always beat the rest of the boys in throwing stones, and nowhis practice was to save him. He flung the smooth, round pebble withterrific force, and it went true to its mark. The horse reared with hisrider just at the instant that a bowlder from Shorty's hand landed onIke's breast. The rebel fell to the ground, and the boys ran on.
At the top of the next hill they saw the regiment marching leisurelyalong at the foot of the hill. It was so unexpected a deliverance thatit startled them. It seemed so long since they had left the regimentthat it might have been clear back to Nashville. They yelled with alltheir remaining strength, and tore down the hill. Co. Q saw themat once, and at the command of the Captain came forward at thedouble-quick. The rebels had in the meanwhile gained the top of thehill. A few shots were fired at them as they turned from the chase.
The Colonel rode back and questioned the boys. Then he turned to theCaptain of Co. Q and said:
"Captain, take your company over to that house. If you find anythingthat you think we need in camp, bring it back with you. Put these boysin the ambulance."
The exhausted Si and Shorty were helped into the ambulance, the Surgeongave them a reviving drink of whisky and quinine, and as they stretchedthemselves out on the cushioned seats Si remarked:
"Shorty, we ain't ez purty ez we used to be, but we know a durned sightmore."
"I doubt it," said Shorty surlily. "I think me and you'll be fools aslong as we live. We won't be fools the same way agin, you kin bet yourlife, but we'll find some other way."