CHAPTER XX. STEWED CHICKEN
THE DEACON'S CULINARY OPERATIONS BRING HIM LOTS OF TROUBLE.
THE Deacon reached the corn-crib again be fore daylight, and foundSi and Shorty fast asleep. This relieved him much, for he had beendisturbed with apprehensions of what might happen them while he wasgone. Though he was more tired, it seemed to him, than he had ever beenbefore in all his life, yet he nerved himself up to clean and cook oneof the chickens, so as to give Si a delightful surprise when he awoke.
The Deacon had grown so wise in the army ways that his first problem washow to hide the remaining four fowls until he should need them.
"I'd simply be mobbed," he communed with him self, "if daylight shouldcome, and show me with four chickens in my possession. The whole Armyo' the Cumberland 'd jump me as one man, and I'd be lucky if I got awaywith my life. Mebbe even the General himself 'd send a regiment down totake the things away from me. But what kin I do with 'em? If I hang 'emup inside the corn-crib they'll spile. The weather is cold enough tokeep 'em outside, but I'd need a burglar-proof safe to hold on to 'em.It's just awful that morals are so bad in the army, and that men willtake things that don't belong to 'em."
He stopped short, for there arose the disturbing thought as to just howhe himself had come into possession of the birds, and he murmured:
"'Tain't in me to blame 'em. What is 't the Bible says about 'Let himwho is without sin cast the first stone?' Certainly I'm not the man tobe heavin' dornicks just now."
Mindful of past experiences, he took the fowls in one hand, when he wentdown to the branch with a camp-kettle to get water. He washed his faceand hands in the cold water, which revived him, and returning, built afire and hung the kettle over it, while he carefully picked and cleanedone of the chickens for cooking. Then he plucked and cleaned the others,and burned the feathers and entrails in the fire.
"Chicken feathers 's mighty tell-tale things," he said to himself. "Ionce knowed a man that was finally landed in the penitentiary because hedidn't look out for chicken feathers. He'd bin stealin' hosses, and washidin' with them in the big swamp, where nobody would 've suspicioned hewas, if he hadn't stole chickens from the neighborhood to live on, andleft their feathers layin' around careless like, and some boys, whothought the foxes was killin' the chickens, followed up the trail andrun onto him."
Then a bright idea occurred to him. He had a piece of board, which helaid on the stones that formed the foundation of one end of the crib,immediately under the flooring, and on this shelf he laid the otherchickens.
"I remember that Wash Jenkins that we arrested for counterfeitin' hadhid his pile o' pewter dollars in the underpinnin' of his cabin,and we'd never found any stuff to convict him, except by the merestaccident. We hunted all through his cabin, below and in the loft, pulledthe clapboards off, and dug up every likely place in the yard, and justabout as we wuz givin' the whole thing up, somebody pulled a boardout o' the underpinnin' to lay in the bed o' his wagon, and the bogusdollars run out. Wash made shoes for the State down at Jeffersonvillefor some years on account of that man wantin' a piece o' board for hiswagon-bed."
But the astute Deacon had overlooked one thing in his calculations. Thecrisp morning air was filled with the pungent smell of burning feathersand flesh, and the fragrance of stewing chicken. It reached hungry menin every direction, made their mouths water and their minds wonder whereit could come from.
First came a famished dog, sniffing and nosing around. His appearancefilled the Deacon with alarm. Here was danger to his hidden stock thathe had not thought of. He took his resolution at once. Decoying the curnear him he fastened a sinewy hand upon his neck, cut his throat withhis jack-knife, and dragged the carcass some distance away from thecorn-crib.
"I'll git a mattock and shovel and bury it after awhile," he murmuredto himself, as he returned and washed his hands. "He's settled for good,any way. He won't be snoopin' around steal in' my chickens. I hope therehain't no more measly hounds around. Should've thought they wuz allstarved out long ago. My! but that chicken does smell so nice. How Siand Shorty will enjoy it. It'll build 'em right up. I'd like awfully totake some of it myself, but they'll need every drop, poor fellows."
He got a spoon, and tested some of the broth appreciatively.
"Mother'd done much better, at home in her own kitchen, or anywhere youcould've put her, than me with my clumsy ways," he continued, "but shenever cooked anything that'll taste better to them boys."
A negro cook appeared, with a tin cup in his hand.
"Afo' de Lawd, Boss, is hit you dat's cookin' dat chicking? I donesmelled hit more'n a miled away, and hab been huntin' foh hit all obercamp. Say, Boss, foh de Lawd's sake, jist gib me a little teenty, weentysup in dis heah tin cup for my boss. He's an ossifer, an' is layin'in de ossifer's horsepitol ober dar. Hit'll do him a powerful sight obgood."
"Awful Sorry, my friend," said the Deacon, hardening his heart, "but Ihaven't a bit to spare. Hain't got as much as I need for my own son andhis partner. I couldn't spare a mouthful for the General o' thearmy even. Let your Colonel or Major sendout men to git chickens forhimself."
"My boss'll be powehful disappunted," said the negro, with his big,white eyes full of tears. "He's powehful weak, foh sartin. A leetle supob broth'd do him an everlastin' world ob good. He ain't no Kunnel orMajah. He's only a Cappen Cappen McGillicuddy, ob the 200th Injianny."
"Capt. McGillicuddy, o' the 200th Injianny," said the Deacon, muchmoved. "You Bay you're Capt. McGillicuddy's man?"
"Yes, boss."
"And he's layin' very low over in a tent there?"
"Yes, boss. Got shot in de thigh in de battle, an' den had de feber.He's de very best man in de world, and I'd do ennyt'ing to help him.He's jest starvin' to def. I can't git nuffin' dat'll lay on hisstummick, and stick to his ribs. I've done ransacked de hull camp andde country clean up to Jineral Bragg's Headquartehs. De tings dat Icouldn't git wuz eider chained down, or had a man wid a gun ober dem.Foh Gawd's sake, boss, jist gib me a half a cupful for him."
"There's no man in the world I'd rather help than Capt. McGillicuddy,"said the Deacon. "He's bin a mighty good friend to my son. I know thatSi and Shorty'd divide their last crumb with him. Look here, Sambo, ifI give you a cupful o' this broth and a piece o' the meat, will you gitdown on your knees and swear you'll take every bit straight to him, andnot take even a smidjin of it for your self?"
"De Lawd be praised and magnified foreber, but I will," said the negro,dropping on his knees and holding up his hand. "Swar me on a pile o'Bibles big as a haystack. I'd radder go to hell on my knees backward dantech de fust drap ob dat. I's too anxious to hab Cappen McGillicuddy gitwell, so I is. What'd become ob dis pore niggeh if he should die?No, indeedy. Hope I'll drap dead in my tracks if I taste de least weemorssel."
"I'm goin' to trust you," said the Deacon, stirring up the savory mess,ladling out a generous cupful, adding a drumstick, and covering the cupwith a piece of paper. "Now, carry it carefully. Every drop's worth itsweight in gold."
The Deacon looked a little regretful at the shrinking of the contents ofthe kettle, made by taking out the cupful, and said:
"Mebbe I oughtn't 've done it. The boys need every spoonful. But if it'dbin themselves, I know they'd have given their Captain more'n I did. Heis twice blessed that giveth, and probably they'll git more somehow onaccount o' what I've given away. But I mustn't give any more."
"Say, Mister," said a very feeble voice at his elbow, "can't you give mea cupful o' that? It smells so good. It smells like home. I smelled itaway over there in the tent, and it seemed to me that if I could getsome of it I'd certainly get well, though they all say they thinkthere's no hope for me. I crawled out of the tent and come while thenurse was asleep and wasn't watching. They won't let me get upon my feetwhen they're watching me, but I fooled them this time."
As he spoke, he sank down from sheer exhaustion, but still held out hiscup imploringly, while an in tense longing filled his great, blue eyes.
The Deacon
looked pityingly at him. His wan face was fair and delicateas a girl's, and even be fore disease had wasted him he had been verytall and slender. Now his uniform flapped around his shrunken body andlimbs.
The Deacon could not stand the appeal of those great, plaintive eyes andthat wasted form.
"The Lord blesses the giver," he said, taking the cup from the thinhand, and proceeding to fill it from the kettle. "It may be that my ownson will have the more from what I give this poor sick boy. It may bebread cast upon the waters. At any rate, I'm goin' to take the chances.There's still enough left for one meal for Si and Shorty, and I've fourchickens left. After that the Lord'll provide. I'll do this in His name,and I'll trust Him. There, my boy, let the cup set on the ground till itcools, and then drink it, and here's a piece o' bread to go with it."
The boy could scarcely wait for the cooling, and his swimming eyesexpressed a gratitude that no words could convey.
"Here, pardner, I'll take a cupful o' that 'ere, too," said a frazzledand frowsy teamster, shambling up through the half-light of the dawn."I smelled it, and follered my nose till it brung me here. My, but itsmells good! Jest fill my cup, and I'll do as much for you some timewhen you're hungry."
"Go away, Groundhog," said the Deacon, recognizing him. "I've only got alittle here for Si and Shorty. I hain't a spoonful left for myself, andnone to give away. Go and get your own chickens, and bile 'em yourself."
"Can't have any, eh?" said Groundhog, swagger ing up. "We'll see aboutthat, old man. I watched you givin' away to that nigger, and this littledead-beat here, but you hain't none to give me, who is doin' hard workfor the army, and helpin' keep 'em from starvin'. If you've got enoughfor that nigger and that whinin' boy you've got enough for me, and I'mgoin' to have it, for I need it."
"You're not goin' to have a dumbed spoonful, Groundhog. Go away. Ihain't enough for Si and Shorty, I tell you. Go away."
"And I tell you I need it more'n they do, for I'm workin' for the wholearmy, while they're layin' around, makin' out they're sick. You give mea cupful o' that and I'll go away and make no trouble.
"If you don't I'll kick the whole kettle over. An old fool citizen likeyou 's got no business in camp, any way, and no right to be havin'things that ought to go to the laborin' men."
And he raised his foot threateningly.
The Deacon laid down the spoon with which he had been stirring thebroth, and doubling up his mighty fist, placed himself between Groundhogand the kettle, and said:
'IF YOU DON'T SKIP OUT o' HERE THIS MINUTE I'LL BUST YOURHEAD AS I WOULD A PUNKIN." 264]
"Groundhog, I'm an old man, and always have bin a man o' peace. Idon't believe in no kind o' fightin', nor molestin' no one. I belong tochurch, and 've always tried to lead a Christian life. But if you don'tskip out o' here this minute, I'll bust your head as I would a punkin."
Groundhog retreated a few steps, but still kept up a show ofdetermination.
"What are you foolin' with the ole hayseed for?" said another teamster,coming up behind Groundhog. "Slap the old hawbuck over, snatch up thekittle and run with it. I'll do it if you don't."
"Go for 'em, Deacon; I'm with you. We kin lick both of 'em," shoutedShorty, who had been awakened by the noise of the dispute, and cametottering out, trying to raise a stick of wood for a club.
At that moment a rebel cannon roared on Lookout Mountain, just overthem, and the wicked screech of a shell cleft the air. Both of the teamsters dropped on the ground in a paralysis of fear.
"The rebels 've got a new battery planted on the mountain," said Shorty,turning to study the smoke that drifted away, in order to get itslocation.
"The shell struck right over there, and hain't bursted yet," said thesick boy, looking up from sipping his broth, and pointing to a spot ashort distance away. "I can hear the hissing of the fuse."
The teamsters sprang up like jacks-in-the-box, and ran with all thepower of their legs. By the time the explosion came they were hundredsof yards away.
A column of dirt and stones was thrown up, of which a little sprinklereached the fire. Thousands of voices yelled derisively at the rebelgunner.
"They're shootin' wuss and wuss every day," remarked Shorty, afterjudicially considering the shot and making comparison with itspredecessors. "They'll git so after awhile that they can't hit theTennessee Valley."
"Shorty," said the Deacon, "take this revolver and watch that kittlewhile I wash Si's face, and git him ready for his breakfast. If youlet anybody git away with it you lose your breakfast. If I ever go intorestaurantin' for a bizniss, I'm goin' to find a quieter neighborhoodthan Chattanoogy. I ain't exactly grumblin', so to speak, but there'senough excitement before breakfast every mornin' to last me a fullyear."
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