A Rebellion in Dixie, Harry Castlemon [mobi ebook reader .txt] 📗

breath of relief. They had crossed the bridge and were now on the road to Ellisville, the pickets were between them and their pursuers, and all danger of capture was passed. Young Robert walked along beside his horse—the elder Dawson seemed determined to foot it, and his son kept him company—and, judging from the remarks exchanged between husband and wife, all peril of being made prisoners was gone. Even Cuff drew a long breath and slowed up on his mules, while Leon and Tom rode on ahead, apparently very much occupied with their own thoughts. Everybody knew what they were thinking about, and for a long time no one troubled them; but at last Dawson could stand it no longer.

272“It’s rather rough on you, ain’t it, Leon?” said he. “To see where that sentinel shed his blood is enough to make you believe that you have not undertaken a picnic.”

“I tell you, boys, you have taken something of a job on your hands,” said Mr. Dawson. “I never heard of such a thing, and I am afraid before the thing is up you will find it an impossibility. The sight of a little blood don’t worry me. When you belong to a company that charges a battery, and the battery opens on you and kills all but five or six of you, then it will be time for you to open your eyes.”

“Well, I don’t see why you took that method of finding out how many men there were at the bridge,” said Leon. “Why couldn’t you have made a fuss of some kind out there in the bushes and then counted the men when they came out?”

“Because it was orders,” said Mr. Dawson. “If you were in the rebel army for a few short weeks you would know what that means. I fired with the balance, but I shot wild. I never fired at a Union man in my life.”

273“But, father, how did you come to be on this scout?” asked Dawson. “You don’t belong to that company.”

“Oh, no. I happened to be present when the squad was made out, and among them was an old German fellow who didn’t care to go, and I borrowed his weapons and mule and went in his place. I expect he’ll get tired waiting for his weapons before he sees them again. That’s a pretty good carbine,” added Mr. Dawson, holding his gun off at arm’s length and looking at it.

“I didn’t know that a man could do that,” said Leon. “I thought you had to obey orders, no matter whether you wanted to or not.”

“Not in a case like this. I didn’t say anything to anybody about it. I got on the mule, and when the squad was called together I put in an appearance. I was afraid that something was going to happen to my family, and I couldn’t bear to stay behind.”

“I tell you, things turned out all right, didn’t they?” said Dawson, gleefully. “You came home just in the right time to join us.”

“What I want to know is, am I going 274to get my horse?” said Mr. Dawson. “I raised him myself, and shouldn’t like to part with him.”

“You will get your horse all right,” said Leon. “If he has been given to anybody, that man will have to give him up.”

That settled the matter to the satisfaction of all the Dawson family. Leon soon began to get over the forebodings caused by that crimson stain on the floor of the bridge, and riding beside the wagon he kept up a conversation with Mrs. Dawson, who told him many things connected with the service that he hadn’t dreamed of. In due time they arrived at Ellisville. Just as they were going up the main road that led past the hotel they met a squad of sentinels going down to relieve those at the bridge. It was plain that an old soldier was in command of them, for they were closed up, held their guns at a carry and marched by twos. The two officers who commanded them marched at the head. They had evidently had some time to drill their men, and the result showed that the backwoodsmen were not at all behind in military matters. 275When they came up, they reined their horses out of the way and passed on without speaking.

“There’s a squad that is well drilled,” said Mr. Dawson. “But I do not see why you do not destroy that bridge. It seems to be a world of trouble to you.”

“There’s a very good reason why we don’t destroy it,” said Leon. “There are five other places where it can be forded.”

“Why, I hadn’t heard of that,” exclaimed Mr. Dawson.

“Do you remember sending two men up here to make a map of the country?” asked Leon. “Well, they found it out.”

“And did you let those men go back?”back?”

“No, one of them stayed up here,” said Leon, who somehow could not find it in his heart to say the man had been killed. “If we destroy the bridge, anybody like you, who is tired of serving under that old rag, won’t know that they can get across, and we have nobody to send them to show where the fords are. We don’t know, ourselves.”

As they drew near to the porch of the hotel, 276Leon saw his father standing there. He dismounted and shook him by the hand—he was certain that his father put a little more grip into the shake than usual—and presented Mr. Dawson, who, it is not necessary to say, was received with a hearty welcome.

“The first thing this man wants is his horse,” said Leon.

“Was he with us when we captured that wagon-train?” asked Mr. Sprague. “If so, he can have his horse. They have not been given out yet.”

“There, sir, you got your horse,” added Leon, turning to Mr. Dawson. “Now the next thing is, we want to report. Is the President in his room? Then, father, I want you to come up there with Mr. Dawson. He’s got some things to tell you that will astonish you.”

His father replied that he didn’t see how he was going to be astonished any more than he had been, but followed Leon up the stairs to the President’s office. They found the gentleman there just as they had seen him before, with a pair of blue jean pants on, 277which were tucked in heavy cowhide boots, and no coat on. He greeted Mr. Dawson very cordially and inquired, in his hearty way:

“So you’ve got tired of serving under a flag that you don’t like, and have come over here to cast your lot with us. Well, sir, the best we have got is yours.”

“I am well aware of that, Mr. President,” said Mr. Dawson. “But there is one thing that I want to post you on at once. It is about that man Dan Newman.”

Mr. Knight removed the pen from behind his ear and settled back in his chair. He had been expecting to hear something from Dan Newman for a long time. Mr. Dawson began and told him the whole story of Dan’s meeting with the Confederates, his sudden promotion, and all about it, and when he got done there was an expression on the President’s face that few people had seen there.

“Well, Dawson, you can go down there and pick out any place you can find to draw your wagon up,” said he. “You are right at home here. Sprague, what is your opinion regarding Dan Newman?”

278“My opinion is that he ought to be arrested at once,” replied Mr. Sprague.

“And after that are you going to try him by a court-martial?”

“That will be just as the men say. If he is not tried by court-martial he will be shipped off among his friends. They can promote him faster than we can,” said Mr. Sprague, with a smile.

“Well, get to work at once. Take as many men as can surround Newman’s old shanty and make prisoners of those boys. If the old man says too much, bring him along, too. Dawson, I shall send for you presently.”

“Very good, sir. I will be on hand when I am wanted.”

Mr. Sprague lost no time in getting his men together, and while he was hunting them up Dawson held a short interview with his father.

“Now, you take my horse,” said he, “and when we get back we’ll get your nag. Of course Leon is going to arrest Newman, and I am going with him. Turn into any open place you can find in the grove, and there 279make your camp. You will find them all friendly here.”

Mr. Dawson mounted the horse and led the wagon down the road, and just then Bud McCoy came up. Bud was always on hand when he was wanted. He got so in the habit of staying close around to Mr. Sprague that it was not long before the men came to call him Colonel Sprague’s body-guard. But Bud didn’t mind that. He said he got more to do by being around there than he could anywhere else, and that was what a Union volunteer wanted in times like these.

“What’s up?” he exclaimed. “What does the old man want with volunteers?”

“He is going out to arrest Dan Newman,” said Leon.

“Well, there; I always thought that man ought to be arrested,” said Bud. “He has been preaching up secession docterings till you can’t rest. What’s he been doing now?”

It did not take long for Leon to make Bud understand the matter, and as he went on to tell what Dan had been guilty of, the scowl on the man’s face changed to one of furious 280hatred. When Leon ceased he struck his fist into his open palm with a ringing slap.

“You’ll go, too, won’t you?”

“Of course I’ll go. I ain’t a-going to stand no fooling like that. He has said enough to hang him higher’n Haman.”

While they were talking Mr. Sprague was seen coming at the head of five men whom he had summoned to make the arrest. We said he had summoned five men, but the news of what he wanted to do had gradually worked its way through the camp until there were more than twenty men who were slinging on their bullet-pouches and hurrying to catch up with those who had been summoned. The feeling was so great against Newman that all hands wanted to have a finger in his arrest. As he passed by the porch of the hotel, Leon, Tom and Dawson joined him.

“There’s one thing about it,” said Leon, looking back at the stalwart fellows behind him. “No Newman can get away from this party.”

“You’re mighty right,” said one of the men. “It’s a wonder to me that your father didn’t arrest him long ago.”

281“See here, boys,” said Mr. Sprague, from the head of the column. “Be quiet and still. Those Newmans are like quails; they’ll run and hide if they hear a twig snap. When we come up with the house I’ll give the word, and then you know what to do.”