three minutes, then a soldier called out, “Well to hell with it, I’ll go trade. Hold yer fire Reb, and I’ll meet you center field!” The soldier crawled to the top of the berm, and stood up. No one fired, and he began walking toward the center of the field.
The two met in the center of the field, and began to trade, and soon others crawled to the top. Jacob wondered if he might get some shoe strings as he needed them badly. He walked to where the men were gathered. A soldier met him, “You got some shoe string's sir?”
“I got some buckskin strings. I reckon they be long enough fer shoes, I’ll trade fer some powder if’in you got any.”
Jacob poured some powder into the man's powder horn, then shook hands with the man, and returned to the berm with the buckskin strings.
The sergeant was sitting there when he returned with the strings, “Got me some shoe strings from one of the Rebs sergeant, he seemed like a very nice man. Why we got to go shooting at one another?”
“Well, war is a nasty business boy, and that nice man will gladly blow your head off come morning.”
“I’ve been thinking about you son, and you got no business in this war. What I want you to do is when we start across that field, you don’t worry about shooting the squirrel gun; you run as fast as you can across that field. If you don’t get hit, you keep on goin’ likity split into them trees, and then you keep on goin’ till you get home. Understand?
“I don’t know the way home.”
“I’m giving you my compass; you keep going northwest, can you read a compass?”
“No sir, I ain’t never had a compass, but won’t you need it?”
“I can get another one from supply; you just do what I say boy, you hear me now?”
“Yes sir, if I can get across without being hit.”
The sergeant showed Jacob how to read the compass. “You’re a good boy son; life has dealt you some blows, but you got to man up, and get back to your family. I will be praying for you. Now you try to get some sleep, and be ready to go first thing it comes light.”
Jacob eventually fell asleep. The sergeant shook him awake roughly as the dawn began to appear out of the east.
The sergeant whispered, “Remember, as fast as you can run when the fighting starts…run straight past them Rebs, and into them trees. They’ll most likely report you as missing in action.”
“Yes sir.”
The clacking of rifles being loaded interrupted them as the men began to ready themselves for the assault. Three minutes later he heard the bugle sound, and the captain stood on the top of a log, and pointed his sword toward the Rebel forces, “Attack…attack!”
Jacob began running toward the Rebel soldiers as they raised their rifles to fire. All of a sudden, the noise of rifles and confusion reigned. He heard the screams of men, and horses being wounded. He felt a tug at his sleeve, and ran head long into the melee, then he was through. He ran for the trees, and slid head long down an embankment to land with his face in about three inches of water. He jerked up and dived for a thicket of vines and bushes.
All of a sudden, he heard a voice not three feet away, “Get away, this be my hidy hole.”
It made him jump, as a black boy of about fifteen lay in the brush and looked at him with big eyes. The boy had on a northern uniform cap; his clothes appeared almost torn off him, and his shoes were rotten to the point where one of the souls was just hanging.
“What are you doing here?” Jacob looked at him.
“Tryin’ not to get killed.”
“Me too, let's run.”
“Feet don’t let me down.” The boy ran through the trees, and out across another field with Jacob trying his best to keep up. They ran into another grove of tree’s before the boy dropped to the ground.
They barely could hear the rifle fire in the distance. A cannon made a much louder sound, and Jacob figured it was at least a mile back.
“I think we are safe now.”
“Yeah, but we got to be careful we don’t run into anybody. Where you be headin’?”
“I’m goin’ home, where you goin’?”
“I ain’t got no home, they killed my momma, and my papa was sold a long time ago; I don’t member much bout him though.”
“What is your name?”
“My name be Tobias; my momma calls me Toby, what be your name?”
“I’m Jacob, glad to meet you Toby.” Jacob extended his hand, and Toby shook it solemnly.
“I have a farm in Arkansas; you reckon you would want to come home with me Toby?”
“Arkansas be a long way away, how you goin’ to find it?”
“My sergeant gave me this compass, and told me how to read it.”
“Boy that be something!” Toby said as he admired the brass compass.
“I reckon I will go along with you, but we better be goin’ now.”
The two began making their way through the grove of tree’s, and came out on a road that meandered the general direction they were heading.
After a while, they came to a fork in the road, and they took the right fork which led in a northwesterly direction. Jacob was able to shoot a rabbit.
The boys skinned the rabbit, and had supper by the side of the track that night. Jacob thanked God, he hadn’t had to use his ball, and powder in the skirmish.
The next morning they followed the road for about two miles until the road turned south. The two stood looking at the road. “We need to go this direction; it will be harder walking.” Jacob held the compass, and pointed northwest.
“That be ok. It's safer than the road anyhow. They be snakes, and such, but I druther be snakebit, than shot at.”
The two headed off through the tree’s where the going was much rougher. Sometimes they would come to a tangle of bushes, vines, and trees, and have to go around it. Jacob shot another rabbit insuring their supper. He put the rabbit inside his tunic, and they walked until nearly sundown following the compass ever northwest.
They camped along a small stream, and by that time the one canteen shared between them was completely empty. As they sat by the small fire to wait on the rabbit to cook, Toby asked, “Have you ever shot anyone with that rifle, I noticed you hit whatever you shoot at.”
Jacob hung his head, “Yeah; I shot a boy, then later a man what was bent on raping a woman…can’t say I much liked it though. Some men made me go with them to the war. I didn’t shoot back there though, my sergeant told me to run, he said I didn’t belong in any war.”
“I don’t reckon I belong in no war either; my momma always taught me not to kill…she said the Lord don’t like killin’. The blue soldiers said I could go along with them, but there was lots of killin',’ so I run off in the woods. I didn’t have a rifle to shoot with no how.”
The boys stared somberly into the fire as the grease dropped into the fire off the rabbit. That night the two slept fitfully. The next morning they had a tiny bite of the leftover rabbit, and began to make their trek through the thick forest of vines, bushes, and tree’s, eventually coming on to another wagon track that led through the country side in a general northwesterly direction.
They came to an old house beside the wagon track when all of a sudden a scream came from inside the house. “let's get outta here.” Toby whispered in Jacob's ear.
“I better go see, you can run if you want to.”
Instead of running Toby followed Jacob up to the door to the house. Jacob pushed the door open with his gun barrel to see a girl struggling under a man in a southern uniform.
“Unhand that girl mister, or I’ll shoot you dead!”
The soldier turned to look at him, still holding the girl to the floor, “Get outta here boy; this ain’t your business.” He sneered, his face, and beard filthy.
“Mister, I’m warning you; I'll shoot.”
The man looked into Jacob's eyes, and what he saw was not to his liking, and he realized he was near death.
“What you gonna do boy, take her for yourself?” As he got up off the girl, a
nd stood in the middle of the room.
“Get out mister, and keep going. Leave the rifle where it is.”
The trooper looked nonplused, “Boy; I gotta have that rifle for a fighting stick.”
“Take one off the dead then, but if you don’t go I’ll kill you.”
The soldier moved carefully around Jacob, and opened the door, and began running up the road; the girl still lay there, her clothing almost torn off. Jacob walked over, reaching down to extend his hand. She looked up fearfully at Jacob, but took his hand, and he pulled her up. She looked to be about fourteen years old.
“Who might you be girl?”
“I’m Mary Lou Scroggins.” The girl leaned against Jacob, and began crying. He let her cry a moment with Toby looking on; the whites in his eyes made his eyes seem to pop out of his head.
“Where is your folk?”
“That man shot my mama, then drug me off down here; our farm is up the road a way, but they ain’t nobody left, but me now.”
“You need to dry up your crying now, and we need to go take care of your ma.”
She rubbed the tears away with the back of her hand. All of a sudden, she was aware of her near nakedness. She grabbed her dress, and pulled it closed the best she