The Devil's Own Part 26

All this deck was sufficiently un.o.bstructed so as to afford me glimpses without, and for some distance along the bank; and it was not difficult for one with military training quickly to sense the situation, especially as I overheard much of the conversation between Mapes and the young lieutenant quartermaster who immediately came aboard. A more desolate, G.o.d-forsaken spot than Yellow Banks I never saw. It had been raining hard, and the slushy clay stuck to everything it touched; the men were bathed in it, their boots so clogged they could hardly walk, while what few horses I saw were yellow to their eyes. The pa.s.sengers going ash.o.r.e waded ankle deep the moment they stepped off the plank, and rushes and dried gra.s.s had been thrown on the ground to protect the cargo. Only three log houses were visible, miserable shacks, one of them a saloon, evidently doing a thriving business. In most cases it was impossible to distinguish the civilian inhabitants from their soldier guests. Reynolds' troops, all militia, and the greater part of them mounted, were an extremely sorry-looking lot--st.u.r.dy enough physically, of the pioneer type, but bearing little soldierly appearance, and utterly ignorant of discipline. They had been hastily gathered together at Beardstown, and, without drill, marched across country to this spot. Whatever of organization had been attempted was worked out en route, the men being practically without uniforms, tents, or even blankets, while the arms they bore represented every separate species ever invented. I saw them straggle past with long squirrel rifles, Hessian muskets, and even one fellow proudly bearing a silver-mounted derringer. The men had chosen officers from out their own ranks by popular election, and these exercised their authority very largely through physical prowess.

We had an excellent ill.u.s.tration of this soon after tying up at the landing. A tall, lank, ungainly officer, with a face so distinctively homely as to instantly attract my attention, led his company of men up the river bank, and ordered them to transport the pile of commissary stores from where they had been promiscuously thrown to a drier spot farther back. The officer was a captain, to judge from certain stripes of red cloth, sewed on the shoulders of his brown jean blouse, but his men were far from prompt in obeying his command, evidently having no taste for the job. One among them, apparently their ringleader in incipient mutiny, an upstanding bully with the jaw of a prize-fighter, took it upon himself openly to defy the officer, exclaiming profanely that he'd be d.a.m.ned if he ever enlisted to do n.i.g.g.e.r work. The others laughed, and joined in the revolt, until the captain unceremoniously flung off his blouse, thus divesting himself of every vestige of rank, and proceeded to enforce his authority. It was a battle royal, the soldiers crowding eagerly about, and yelling encouragement impartially first to one combatant, and then another.

"Kick him in the ribs, Sam!"

"Now, Abe, yer've got him--crack the d.a.m.n cuss's neck."

"By golly! that's the way we do it in ol' Salem."

"He's got yer now, Jenkins, he's got yer now--good boy, Abe."

Exactly what occurred I could not see, but when the circle of wildly excited men finally broke apart, the big rebel was lying flat on his back in the yellow mud, and the irate officer was indicating every inclination to press him down out of sight.

"Hav' yer hed 'nough, Sam Jenkins?" he questioned, breathlessly.

"Then, blame ye, say so."

"All right, Abe--yer've bested me this time."

"Will yer tote them pa.s.sels?"

The discomfited Jenkins, one of whose eyes was closed, and full of clay, attempted a sickly grin.

"h.e.l.l! yes," he admitted, "I'd sure admire ter dew it."

The conqueror released his grip, and stood up, revealing his full height, and reaching out for the discarded blouse, quietly slipped it on. One of the _Adventurer's_ pa.s.sengers, an officer in uniform, going ash.o.r.e, another tall, spare man, had halted on the gangplank to watch the contest. Now he stepped forward to greet the victor, with smiling eyes and outstretched hand.

"Not so badly done, Captain," he said cordially. "I am Lieutenant Jefferson Davis, of General Atcheson's staff, and may have a good word to say regarding your efficiency some time."

The other wiped his clay-bespattered fingers on his dingy Jean pants, and gripped the offered hand, appearing homelier than ever because of a smear of blood on one cheek.

"Thank ye, sir," he answered good humoredly. "I'm Abe Lincoln, of Salem, Illinoy, an' I ain't got but just one job right now--that's ter make them boys tote this stuff, an' I reckon they're goin' ter do it."

With the exchange of another word or two they parted, and not until thirty years later did I realize what that chance meeting meant, there in the clay mud of Yellow Banks, at the edge of the Indian wilderness, when Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois, and Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi, stood in comrades.h.i.+p with clasped hands.

I recognized the majority of those disembarking pa.s.sengers who pa.s.sed by me within a few feet, but saw nothing of Kirby, the deputy sheriff, or caught any glimpse of their prisoners. The only conclusion was that they still remained on board. I was not at all surprised at this, as their intention undoubtedly was to continue with the steamer, and return south the moment the cargo of commissary and quartermaster's stores had been discharged. Neither had any interest in the war, and there was nothing ash.o.r.e to attract them which could not be comfortably viewed from the upper deck. It was safer far to keep close guard over their charges, and see that they remained out of sight.

We had unloaded perhaps a quarter of our supplies, when an officer suddenly appeared over the crest of the bank and hailed the captain.

There was a tone of authority in his voice which caused us to knock off work and listen.

"Is Captain Corcoran there? Oh, you are Captain Corcoran. Well, I bring orders from headquarters. You are to discontinue unloading, Captain, retain the remainder of the provisions on board, and prepare at once to take on men. What's your capacity?"

"Take on men? Soldiers, you mean?"

"Exactly; we've got to find quarters for about seven hundred. Two of those boats up yonder will take horses. The troops will be along within an hour."

"We are not to return south, then?"

"No; you're going in the other direction--up the Rock. You better get busy."

He wheeled his horse and disappeared, leaving the angry captain venting his displeasure on the vacant air. Kirby, evidently from some position across the deck, broke in with a sharp question.

"What was that, Corcoran? Did the fellow say you were not going back to St. Louis?"

"That's just what he said. d.a.m.n this being under military orders.

We've got to nose our way up Rock River, with a lot of those measly soldiers aboard. It's simply h.e.l.l. Here you, Mapes, stop that unloading, and get steam up--we've got to put in a night of it."

"But," insisted Kirby in disgust, "I'm not going up there; aren't there any boats going down?"

"How the h.e.l.l should I know? Go ash.o.r.e and find out--you haven't anything else to do. According to what he said, this boat casts off in half an hour and heads north."

The men below knocked off work willingly enough, and, taking advantage of the confusion on board, I endeavored to creep up the stairs and gain a view of the upper deck. But both Mapes and the second mate made this attempt impossible, forcing me into the ranks of the others, and compelling us to restow the cargo. The methods they adopted to induce sluggards to take hold were not gentle ones, and we were soon jumping at the snarl of their voices, as though each utterance was the crack of a whip. By a little diplomacy, I managed, however, to remain within general view of the gangway and the stairs descending from the deck above, confident that no one could pa.s.s me unseen. This watch brought no results, except to convince me that Kirby and his party still remained aboard. So far as I could perceive, no attempt to depart was made by anyone, excepting a big fellow with a red moustache, who swore profanely as he struggled through the mud, dragging a huge valise.

The situation puzzled and confused me. What choice would Kirby and the deputy make? If once up Rock River the _Adventurer_ might very likely not return for weeks, and it did not seem to me possible that the impatient gambler would consent to such a delay. Every advance northward brought with it a new danger of exposure. These were Illinois troops to be transported--not regulars, but militia, gathered from a hundred hamlets--and many among them would be open enemies of slavery. Let such men as these, rough with the pioneer sense of justice, once suspect the situation of those two women, especially if the rumor got abroad among them that Eloise was white, and the slave-hunter would have a hard row to hoe. And I made up my mind such a rumor should be sown broadcast; aye, more, that, if the necessity arose, I would throw off my own disguise and front him openly with the charge. Seemingly there remained nothing else to do, and I outlined this course of action, growing more confident as the minutes sped, that the two men had determined to take their chances and remain aboard with the prisoners. No doubt they hesitated to leap from the frying pan into the fire, for perilous as it might prove to continue as pa.s.sengers of the _Adventurer_, an even greater danger might confront them ash.o.r.e, in that undisciplined camp. Aboard the steamer they could keep their victims safely locked in the cabins, unseen, their presence unknown; while probably Captain Corcoran and his two mates, all southern men, would protect their secret. It seemed to me that this, most likely, had been the final decision reached, and I determined to stick also, prepared to act at the earliest opportunity. I could do no more.

It was only an accident which gave me a clue to the real program.

Mapes sent me back into the vacant s.p.a.ce just forward of the paddle-wheel, seeking a lost cant-hook, and, as I turned about to return the missing tool in my hand, I paused a moment to glance curiously out through a slit in the boat's planking, attracted by the sound of a loud voice uttering a command. I was facing the sh.o.r.e, and a body of men, ununiformed, slouching along with small regard to order, but each bearing a rifle across his shoulder, were just tipping the ridge and plowing their way down through the slippery clay in the direction of the forward gangway. They were noisy, garrulous, profane, their mingled voices drowning the shouts of their officers, yet advanced steadily--the troops destined for Rock River were filing aboard. I saw the column clearly enough, all the soldier in me revolting to such criminal lack of discipline, and the thought of hurling such untrained men as these into Indian battle. Yet, although I saw, not for an instant did my gaze linger on their disordered ranks.

The sight which held me motionless was rather that of a long, broad plank, protected on either side by a rope rail, stretching from the slope of the second deck across the narrow gulf of water, until it rested its other end firmly against the bank.

The meaning of this was sufficiently apparent. For some reason of his own, Kirby had evidently chosen this means of attaining the sh.o.r.e, and through personal friends.h.i.+p, Corcoran had consented to aid his purpose.

The reason, plainly enough, was that by use of this stern gangway the landing party would be enabled to attain the bank without the necessity of pus.h.i.+ng their way through the crowd of idle loungers forward. And the pa.s.sage had just been accomplished, for, as my eyes focussed the scene, they recognized the spare figure of the deputy disappearing over the crest--a vague glimpse, but sufficient. At the same instant hands above began to draw in the plank.

There was but one thing for me to do, one action to take--follow them.

Dropping the cant-hook, I turned aft and crept forth through a small opening onto the wooden frame which supported the motionless paddlewheel, choosing for the scene of operations the river side, where the boat effectively concealed my movements from any prying eyes ash.o.r.e. Everyone aboard would be cl.u.s.tered forward, curiously watchful of that line of soldiers filing across the gangplank and seeking quarters upon deck. The only danger of observation lay in some straggler along the near-by bank. I lowered myself the full length of my arms, dangling there an instant by clinging to the framework; then loosened my grip and dropped silently into the rus.h.i.+ng waters beneath.

CHAPTER XXII

MY FRIEND, THE DEPUTY SHERIFF

Well below the surface, yet impelled swiftly downward by the st.u.r.dy rush of the current, sweeping about the steamer's stern, I struck out with all the strength of my arms, anxious to attain in that first effort the greatest possible distance. I came panting up to breathe, my face lifted barely above the surface, das.h.i.+ng the water from my eyes, and casting one swift glance backward toward the landing. The high stern of the _Adventurer_ was already some considerable distance away, exhibiting no sign of movement along her after-decks, but with that snake-like line of men still pouring over the crest of the bank, and disappearing forward. Great volumes of black smoke swept forth from the funnels, and my ears could distinguish the ceaseless hiss of steam. Again I permitted my body to sink into the depths, swimming onward with easier stroke, satisfied I had not been seen.

When I came up the second time I was quite far enough to be safe, and the stragglers had largely disappeared on board. Content to tread water, yet constantly drifting farther away in the trend of the current, I was able to observe all that took place. The sun had disappeared, and the western sh.o.r.e rested obscured by a purple haze, the wide stretch of water between slowly darkening. Light lingered still, however, along the clay hills of Yellow Banks, crowded with those soldiers left behind, who had gathered to speed the departure of their more fortunate comrades. The decks of the _Adventurer_ were black with men, their cheers and shouts echoing to me along the surface of the river. Slowly the steamer parted from the sh.o.r.e, as the paddle-wheel began to revolve, flinging upward a cataract of spray, the s.p.a.ce of open water widening, as the advancing bow sought the deeper channel, and headed northward. A great resounding cheer from both s.h.i.+p and sh.o.r.e mingled, rolling out over the darkening waters of the river, and echoed back by the forests along the bank. Farther up two other boats--mere phantoms in their white paint--cast off also, and followed, their smoke wreaths trailing behind as they likewise turned their prows up stream. Ten minutes later the three were almost in line, mere blobs of color, barely distinguishable through the descending dusk.

I swam slowly ash.o.r.e, creeping up the low bank into the seclusion of a shallow, sandy gully, scooped out by the late rains. The air was mild, and I experienced no chill from my wet clothes, the warmth of the sand helping to dry them on my body. The river and sky were darkening fast, the more brilliant stars already visible. The western sh.o.r.e had entirely vanished, while nothing remained in evidence of those department boats except the dense black smoke smudge still outlined against the lighter arch of sky overhead. To my left the camp fires of the soldiers still remaining at Yellow Banks began to show red with flame through the shadows of intervening trees, and I could hear the noise of hammering, together with an occasional strident voice.

Immediately about me all was silent, the steadily deepening gloom rendering my surroundings vaguely indistinct.

Thus far I possessed no plan--except to seek her. How this was to be accomplished appeared in no way clear. I lay there, my mind busy with the perplexing problem. Where could Kirby go, now that he was ash.o.r.e?

How could he hope to find concealment in the midst of that rough camp?

that little, squalid frontier settlement of a few log huts? Could it be possible that he had friends there--old cronies to whom he might venture to appeal for shelter, and protection? men of his own kidney to whom he could confide his secret? As the thought occurred to me it seemed quite possible; indeed it scarcely appeared probable that he would, under any other circ.u.mstances, have made the choice he did.

Surely such a man could never have risked going ash.o.r.e unless some definite plan of action had already formulated itself in his mind. And why should the fellow not possess friends at Yellow Banks? He knew the river intimately and all the river towns; possibly he had even landed here before. He was a man feared, hated, but obeyed the full length of the great stream; his name stood for reckless daring, unscrupulous courage everywhere; he could command the admiration and loyalty of every vicious character in the steamboat service between Fort Crawford and New Orleans. It was hardly likely that none of these men, floaters at best, were in this miscellaneous outpouring of militia; indeed it was almost certain there would be some officers among them, as well as enlisted men.

As my thought grasped these facts, they led to the only possible decision. I would venture forward, rather blindly trusting that good fortune might direct my steps aright. I would have to discover first of all, where Kirby had taken Eloise--into whose hands he had deposited the girl for safe keeping. This task ought not to be difficult. The settlement was small, and the camp itself not a large one; no such party could hope to enter its confines without attracting attention, and causing comment. There was but slight discipline, and the majority of the soldiery were simple-hearted, honest fellows who could be easily induced to talk. Once I had thus succeeded in locating her, the rest ought to prove comparatively easy--a mere matter of action. For I had determined to play the spy no longer; to cease being a mere shadow. To my mind the excuse for masquerade no longer existed. The two fugitives were already safely on their way toward Canada, beyond any possibility of pursuit; and, from now on, I could better play my game in the open, confident that I held the winning hand in my knowledge of the girl's ident.i.ty.

So I proposed finding Eloise, and telling her the whole truth; following that, and a.s.sured of her support, I would defy Kirby, denounce him if necessary to the military authorities, identifying myself by means of my army commission, and insist on the immediate release of the girl. The man had broken no law--unless the wanton killing of Shrunk could be proven against him--and I might not be able to compel his arrest. Whatever he suspected now relative to his prisoner, he had originally supposed her to be his slave, his property, and hence possessed a right under the law to restrain her liberty. But even if I was debarred from bringing the man to punishment, I could break his power, and overturn his plans. Beyond that it would be a personal matter between us; and the thought gave me joy. Certainly this method of procedure looked feasible to me; I saw in it no probability of failure, for, no matter how many friends the gambler might have in camp, or the influence they could exert in his behalf, they could never overcome the united testimony I was now able to produce. The mere statement of the girl that she was Eloise Beaucaire would be sufficient to free her.