Frank on a Gun-Boat Part 14

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

He never finished the sentence; for Frank sprang upon him like a tiger, and seizing his throat, with a powerful gripe, threw him to the ground; and, hastily catching up the musket which had fallen from his enemy's hand, dealt him a severe blow on the head. The muscles of the rebel instantly relaxed; and Frank-after unbuckling his cartridge-box, and fastening it to his own waist-shouldered his musket, and ran boldly along the road. He traveled until almost daylight, 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 bullet whistled past him, and, the next moment, a party of rebels, whom he had not noticed, dashed down the road in pursuit. Frank returned the shot, and then started for the woods, loading his musket as he went. He soon had the satisfaction of seeing that he was gaining on his pursuers, and, although the bullets whizzed by his head in unpleasant proximity, he escaped unhurt. The rebels, however, were not so fortunate; for Frank fired as fast as he could load his gun, and at every shot a rebel measured his length on the ground.

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

CHAPTER XIII.

The Faithful Negro.

"Wal, now, I'll be dog-gone, but you are lively on your legs, for a little one," exclaimed the rebel, with a laugh. "But you're a safe Yank now."

"Not yet, I ain't," answered Frank. "I want you to understand that it's my principle never to surrender without a fight;" and, suddenly exerting all his strength, he tore himself away from his captor, leaving part of his collar in his grasp.

The rebel was taken completely by surprise, for he had supposed that Frank would surrender without a struggle; but the latter brought his musket to a charge bayonet, in a way that showed he was in earnest. The rebel was the better armed, carrying a neat sporting rifle, to which was attached a long, sharp saber-bayonet. Frank noticed this difference, but resolutely stood his ground, and, as he was very expert in the bayonet exercise, and as his enemy appeared to be but very little his superior in strength and agility, he had no fear as to the result of the conflict.

At length the rebel, after eyeing his youthful antagonist for a moment, commenced maneuvering slowly, intending, if possible, to draw him out. But Frank stood entirely on the defensive; failing in this mode of attack, the rebel began to grow excited, and became quicker in his movements. But his efforts were useless, for Frank-although a little pale, which showed that he knew the struggle must end in the death of one or the other of them-did not retreat an inch, but coolly parried every thrust made by his infuriated enemy, with the skill of a veteran. The rebel was again obliged to change his plan of attack, and commenced by rus.h.i.+ng furiously upon Frank, endeavoring to beat down his guard by mere strength. But this proved his ruin; for Frank met him promptly at all points, and, watching the moment when the rebel carelessly opened his guard, he sprang forward and buried his bayonet to the hilt in his breast. The thrust was mortal, and the rebel threw his arms above his head, and sank to the ground without a groan.

"I believe he's done for," said Frank to himself; and he stepped up to take a nearer look at his enemy. There he lay, his pale face upturned, and the blood running from an ugly wound in the region of his heart. "I do believe he is dead," repeated Frank, with a shudder, as he gazed sorrowfully at he work he had done. "But there was no alternative between his death and a long confinement in prison. It was done in self-defense;" and he turned to walk away.

Just then the thought struck him that he would take the rebel's gun; his own was worse than useless, for his cartridges had all been expended. So, throwing down his heavy musket, he picked up the rifle his enemy had carried, and, slinging the powder-horn and bullet-pouch over his shoulder, he started off through the woods.

But where should he go? His escape, and the manner in which it was accomplished, had doubtless aroused the entire country. The woods around him were filled with rebels, and the question was, in which direction should he turn to avoid them? After some hesitation, he determined to go as directly through the woods, toward the river, as possible, and, if discovered, trust to his woodcraft and swiftness of foot to save him. With this determination, he shouldered his rifle and walked rapidly on, taking care, however, to keep a good look-out on all sides, and to make as little noise as possible. All sounds of the pursuit had died away, and the woods were as silent as midnight. But even this was a source of fear to Frank; for he knew not what tree or thicket concealed an enemy, nor how soon the stillness would be broken by the crack of a rifle and the whistle of a hostile bullet.

At length the sun went down, and it began to grow dark; but still Frank walked on, wis.h.i.+ng to get as far away from the scene of the fight as possible. Presently he heard a sound that startled him: it was the clatter of horses' hoofs, on a hard, well-beaten road. Nearer and nearer came the sound, and, in a few moments, a company of cavalry pa.s.sed by, and Frank could distinctly hear them laughing and talking with each other.

When they were out of hearing, he paused to deliberate. It was evident that he could not travel through those deep woods at night; should he wait until it became dark, and then boldly follow the road, or should he remain where he was until morning? There was one great objection to the first proposition, and that was his uniform, and the danger he would run of being captured by the night patrol, which he knew were stationed at intervals along the road. It did not seem possible for him to remain where he was; for now, that he had partly got over his excitement, he began to feel the cravings of hunger; in fact, it almost rendered him desperate, and he began to wish that he had surrendered without a struggle, or that he had not attempted to escape at all, for, if he were a prisoner, he could probably obtain sufficient food to keep him from starving. But he knew that his time was too precious to be wasted with such foolish thoughts; besides, when he thought of home and his mother, who had evidently heard of his capture, all ideas of surrendering himself vanished, and he felt that he could endure any thing, even starvation, if he only had the a.s.surance that he would see home once more. But he knew that wis.h.i.+ng would not bring him out of his present difficulty: he must work for his liberty; do every thing in his power, and leave the rest to Providence.

He started out again, and determined that his first step should be to reconnoiter the road. No one was in sight; but, about a quarter of a mile down the road, on the other side, was a large plantation-house, with its neat negro quarters cl.u.s.tering around it, and looking altogether like a little village. He knew that some of the cabins were inhabited, for he saw the smoke wreathing out of the chimneys; could he not go to one of them, and obtain food? He had often heard of escaped prisoners being fed and sheltered by the negroes; why could not he throw himself under their protection? He must have something to satisfy his hunger; and if he could but gain the woods on the opposite side of the road, it would require but a few moments to reach the house. He determined to try it. Glancing hastily up and down the road, he clutched his rifle desperately, and started. A few rapid steps carried him across the road; he cleared the fence at a bound, and was out of sight, in the bushes, in a moment. He immediately started for the nearest cabin and, in a few moments, came to a stand-still in a thicket of bushes just behind it. There was some one in the cabin, for he could see a light s.h.i.+ning through the cracks between the logs; and he distinctly heard the music of a violin, and a voice singing:

"The sun s.h.i.+nes bright in my ole Kentucky home"-

But still he hesitated to advance; his courage had failed him. What, if the negro-for he was certain it was a negro in the cabin-should betray him? What if-His reverie was suddenly interrupted by the approach of a horseman on the road. Presently a rebel officer rode leisurely by. When he arrived opposite the house, a man, who was sitting on the portico, and whom Frank had not noticed, hailed the horseman, who drew in his rein, and stopped.

"Have you caught them all yet?" inquired the man on the portico.

"No," answered the officer; "not yet. One of them gave us the slip; a little fellow; belongs to the gun-boats. He's around here somewhere; but we'll have him to-morrow, for he can't escape. If he comes around here, and you think there is any chance to take him alive, just send down to the Forks for us. If not, you had better shoot him. I wouldn't advise you to meddle with him much, however, for he's a dead shot, and fights like a cuss."

"Did he kill any of the boys?" asked the man on the portico.

"Yes; he killed Bill Richards, who was on guard at the time he escaped, and stole his musket and cartridge-box. I suppose you heard of that. And then, when we got after him, he ran through the woods like a deer, loading his gun as he went, and every time he turned around, somebody had to drop. Finally, old Squire Davis's son overtook him, and they had a regular hand-to-hand fight; but the little one, as usual, came out at the top of the heap."

"Did he kill young Davis?"

"Yes, as dead as a smelt; stuck a bayonet clean through his heart. But I must be going. Keep an eye out for him!"

"All right," answered the man on the portico; and the horseman rode off.

What Frank's feelings were, as he lay there in the bushes, and listened to this conversation-every word of which he overheard-we will not attempt to say. But it showed him that his enemies feared him, and dreaded to meet him single-handed; and that, if he were retaken, his life would not be worth a moment's purchase. He had all along been perfectly aware that his case was desperate, and that he had undertaken something at which many a person, with twice his years and experience, would have hesitated. His condition seemed utterly hopeless. He had never before realized his danger, or what would be his fate if he were captured; but now all the difficulties before him seemed to stand out in bold relief. Yet this knowledge did not act upon him as with some persons; it only nerved him for yet greater exertions, and with a determination to brave every danger before him.

When the horseman had disappeared, and the man on the portico had returned to his seat, Frank again turned his attention to the cabin. After putting a new cap on his rifle, he threw it into the hollow of his arm, and crawled noiselessly out of his place of concealment. When he reached the cabin, he raised to his feet, boldly ascended the steps, and knocked at the door, intending, if his demand for food was not instantly complied with, to take it by force.

"Who dar?" inquired a voice from the inside.

Frank made no reply, but was about to repeat the summons, when the door was thrown open, and an old, gray-headed negro woman appeared before him. Frank was about to make known his wants, when the woman, who had thrown the door wide open, to allow the light to fall upon him, exclaimed:

"Why, de Lor' A'mighty bress us! Come in, chile. What is you standin' out dar for? Come in, I tol' you." And Frank was seized by the arm and pulled into the cabin, and the door was closed carefully behind him.

"Stop dat 'ar fiddlin', ole man," continued the woman, addressing herself to an aged negro, who was seated in an easy chair in the chimney corner; "stop dat 'ar fiddlin', an' git up an' give young ma.s.sa dat cheer."

"I don't wish to give you any trouble," said Frank. "I'm not the least bit tired; but I would like something to eat."

"No trouble 't all, chile," said the old woman. "Now, don't you go talkin' 'bout trouble, I knows who you is. Set down dar." And the old woman pointed to the chair which the man had vacated. "I'll give you somethin' to eat, right away. Pomp, ole man, git up an' cut some o' dat ham;" and the woman bustled about in a state of considerable excitement.

Frank hid his rifle behind a coat which hung in one corner of the cabin, and was about to take possession of the chair, when hasty steps were heard on the walk leading to the cabin.

"Gorry mighty!" exclaimed the old negro, in alarm, "dar come de oberseer. Git under the bed-quick, young ma.s.sa. You'll be safe dar-quick."

Frank had hardly time to act upon this suggestion, when the door suddenly opened, and a s.h.a.ggy head appeared.

"Haven't you had your supper yet, Pomp, you black rascal?" inquired the overseer, witnessing the preparations for cooking that were going on.

"I's only been home a few minutes, ma.s.sa," answered Pomp.

"Well, hurry up, then. I came here," continued the overseer, "to tell you that there is a Yankee prowling around here somewhere; if he comes here, I want you to send for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma.s.sa," answered Pomp.

"Don't you feed him, or do any thing else for him," continued the overseer. "If you do, I'll whip you to death. Now, mind what I tell you." And the overseer closed the door, and departed, to carry the same information and warning to the other cabins.

As soon as the sound of his footsteps had died away, Pomp whispered:

"All right now, young ma.s.sa. You can come out now-no danger. The oberseer won't come to dis house g'in dis night."

Frank, accordingly, crawled out from under the bed, and seated himself in the easy chair, while the old woman went on with her cooking. In a few minutes, which seemed an age to Frank, however, the meal, which consisted of coffee, made of parched corn, ham, honey, and corn-bread, was ready. Frank thought he had never eaten so good a meal before. He forgot the danger of his situation, and listened to the conversation of the old negro and his wife, as though there was not a rebel within a hundred miles of him.

"There," he exclaimed, after he had finished the last piece of corn-bread, and pushed his chair back from the table, "I believe I've eaten supper enough to satisfy any two men living."

"Has yer had enough, chile?" asked the old woman. "I's glad to see yer eat. I wants to do all I can for you Yankee sogers."

"Oh, I've had a great plenty, aunty," answered Frank, as he rose from the table. "Now, I must bid you good-by," he continued, as he pulled his rifle out from its hiding-place. "I shall never be able to repay you; but"-

"Lor' A'mighty, chile!" interrupted the old woman, "whar's you gwine?

You mustn't say one word 'bout gwine out o' dis house dis night.

I's got a bed all fixed for you, an' Pomp will take you up early in de mornin', an' show you de way fru de swamp."

"Put away dat gun, young ma.s.sa," chimed in Pomp; "dere's no danger."

Frank could not resist this appeal, for the bed, which the old woman had made for him in one corner of the cabin, rough as it was, was a pleasant sight to his eyes. So, after hiding his rifle under one of the quilts, where he could get his hand upon it at a moment's warning, he threw himself upon the bed without removing his clothes, and was fast asleep in a moment. It seemed to him that he had hardly closed his eyes, when a hand was laid on his shoulder, and Pomp's voice whispered in his ear: