Brother Against Brother; or, The Tompkins Mystery. Read online

  CHAPTER XII.

  FORAGING.

  Captain Wardle's campaign had been a complete success. He had madetwenty prisoners, he had secured most of the arms and the camp equipage,with one hundred and six horses. Vain search was made for the bodies ofthe dead who had been slain in the fight, none could be found; and fromthe marks of the bullets on the timber one would judge that no one hadbeen touched, as no trees had been struck lower than twenty feet.

  Camp-kettles, tents, rusty fire-locks, and weapons of nearly everydescription, were scattered about over the ground. The soldiers, theununiformed especially, entertained themselves with the veryexhilarating amusement of shattering against the trees these oldfire-locks and such other weapons as could not be conveniently carriedoff. The plundering of the camp was an interestingoccupation--interesting, even, to those who took no part in it. Theununiformed took the lead in this business. Perhaps they regarded it astheir especial duty to be foremost now, since they had been in the rearduring the attack.

  Corporal Grimm and Sergeant Swords were both present, very busy, andtrying to look very soldier-like, though their brown homespun suits andbroad-brimmed hats gave them anything but a military appearance.Corporal Grimm kept his jaws in lively motion on a huge piece ofpig-tail, while he kept up a lively conversation with Sergeant Swordsand others immediately about him. Somehow the scene reminded him of histen days' experience as a soldier with "General Preston," and he relatedthat experience at length. The scene also vividly impressed SergeantSwords with his experience under Captain Floyd, and he impelled to tellhis comrades of that.

  All were in excellent spirits. Captain Wardle congratulated the men ontheir coolness and gallant conduct, and the men congratulated CaptainWardle on his coolness and good generalship--all congratulating eachother.

  About three hours were spent on the late camping ground of theConfederates, and then the entire force, with their twenty prisoners andthe plunder they could carry, started on their return to the Junction.Night overtook them about five miles after they had passed Snagtown,and, selecting a suitable place, they encamped. There was but one thingto dampen their ardor, but one thing had been overlooked. Their armswere in excellent condition, and they were all well mounted; but evenriotous soldiers must eat, and this little fact had been overlooked.When night came they were tired and hungry, but there were rations onlyfor about one-half of their force, and many went supperless to bed, witha fine prospect of having nothing to eat before noon the next day.

  Captain Wardle felt most keenly his mistake in not bringing supplies,and spent most of the night in examining an old backless drill book tosee how the thing could be remedied. Not finding anything in thetactics, he thrust it in his pocket and, throwing himself on hisblanket, closed his eyes and in a few moments solved the problem. Hethen went to sleep, and it was not until his lieutenant had dragged himseveral feet from under his covering that he awoke next morning.

  The sun was up, and so were the men, the latter hungry and ill-natured.

  "Never mind! Tell the boys I've got this question fixed. They shall allhave their breakfast. Tell the bugler to sound the roll-call."

  The blast of the bugle called the men together, and the roll was sooncalled.

  "Now," said Captain Wardle, who had been holding a conversation withCaptain Gunn, "I think you are hungry--"

  "You bet we are, Capen," put in a red-faced private.

  "Shet up, sir, or I'll have you court-martialed and shot for contempt."

  All became silent; the men looked grave and appeared willing to learnfrom the old, time-honored soldier, Captain Wardle.

  "We haven't got enough in camp to feed more than about twenty-five men,so the rest o' ye will have to forage. Go in gangs of ten or fifteen andhunt your breakfast where yer can. The people all around here aresecesh, and it will be a good thing to make them feed Union soldiersonce in a while."

  This announcement was received with applause, and the troops commenceddividing into small squads, the uniformed mixing promiscuously with theununiformed, and waiting only for instructions where to join the mainforce, which now, consisting of twenty-five men and the prisoners,mounted their horses and rode off.

  The eastern sun, like a blazing ball, was rising higher and higher inthe sky as twelve men, among whom were Corporal Grimm and SergeantSwords, galloped down a wooded road, keeping a sharp lookout for"bushwhackers." Six of these men wore the uniform and carried the armsof the United States Infantry, and six were dressed in citizens' attireand armed with rifles or double-barreled shot-guns. All rode at afurious pace, splashing through the mud and frightening the birds in thewoods on either side.

  A boy was riding down the road in the opposite direction. He was mountedon a thin, slow-moving mare, of an indistinct color, which might havebeen taken for a bay, yellow or sorrel. The boy was barefooted, had on astraw hat, rode on a folded sheepskin instead of a saddle, held an emptybag before him, and certainly did not look very warlike.

  "Halt!" cried Sergeant Swords, drawing an old, rusty sword from itssheath and waving it in the air.

  "Halt!" cried Corporal Grimm, drawing a many-barreled pistol, commonlyknown as a pepper-box, which he flourished in a threatening manner.

  "Halt!" again cried both, "or we will fire."

  The boy, being overawed by numbers, felt constrained to pull up the thinmare.

  "Advance and give the countersign!" said Corporal Grimm.

  "Shet up, Grimm! I command this squad," said Sergeant Swords.

  Grimm chewed his pigtail in silence. In the meantime the boy seemedundecided whether to fly or to stand his ground, though his facebetrayed a strong inclination in favor of the former proposition.

  "Who comes there?" said Sergeant Swords, bringing his rusty sword to asalute.

  "Who are ye talkin' to?" asked the boy, looking around to see if hecould possibly be addressing any one else.

  "I am talkin' to you, sir," said the Sergeant, sharply.

  "What d'ye want?" asked the boy.

  "Who comes there, I said?" answered the Sergeant more sharply.

  "Me."

  "Advance, then."

  "Do what?"

  "Come here."

  The boy understood this. He had it delivered in just such a tone when hehad been violating the domestic law. He advanced.

  "What d'ye want?" he asked again.

  "Where can we get our breakfast?"

  "Dunno," he replied, wonderingly.

  "Well, how fur is it to the next farm-house?"

  "Taint more'n a mile."

  "Who lives there?"

  "Old Ruben Smith; but he ain't there now."

  "Where is he?"

  "Dunno; says he's gone to the war, him and his two boys."

  "Which army?"

  "Dunno."

  "Are they Union or secesh?"

  "Lor bless ye, we're all secesh here."

  "You are? Well, we are Union. We'll take ye prisoner, then," saidCorporal Grimm.

  "Oh, but I ain't secesh."

  "Well, then, you are a good boy," said the Sergeant. "Where are yegoing?"

  "Gwine to Snagtown to git the mail and buy some sugar and coffee."

  "Well, you may go on," said the grim soldier, winking at the Corporal;the boy trotted on, looking curiously back at the men and their blueuniforms and big guns.

  The cavalcade now galloped on towards the house of Ruben Smith. Thesteep gable roof soon loomed up in the distance, and after dashing downthe lane, around a pasture, through a small wood, they pulled up infront of the house.

  "Dismount!" commanded the Sergeant. The men were on the ground in aninstant. "Now hitch where you can, and two of you stay on guard whilethe rest are eating."

  "Who are ye, and what do ye want," demanded a sharp-visaged, ill-naturedlooking woman, coming out on the porch as the soldiers entered the yard.

  "We are Union soldiers, and we want our breakfast," said Corporal Grimm,as the Sergeant was busy giving orders to the men.

  "You low, nigger-lovin'
, aberlition thieves, I wouldn't give ye a biteif ye were starvin'," said the woman.

  "Mother, don't talk that way to them," said a pretty, red cheeked girlof about fifteen, standing by her side.

  "We want breakfast for twelve," said Sergeant Swords, now comingforward.

  "Well, sir, ye won't git it here. Go to some nigger shanty and let themcook for ye."

  "Oh, no, my good woman, we want you to get our breakfast. You are a goodlookin' woman, and I know you can get up a good meal."

  "If I was to cook for ye scamps, I'd pizen the last one o' ye," shefairly shrieked.

  "We shall have you eat with us, my good lady, and we can eat anythingyou do," said Sergeant Swords, good-humoredly. The young girl was allthe while persuading her mother to be more calm.

  "Come now, I'll help you. I'll kindle the fire and carry the wood anddraw the water," said the corporal.

  "Come in my house an' I'll pour bilin' hot water in yer face, and scaldyer eyes out!"

  "Don't talk so, mother," urged the pretty daughter.

  At this moment the kitchen door opened, and a negro girl peeped out.

  "Say, kinky head, stir up the kitchen fire and get us some breakfastright soon," said Corporal Grimm. The black face withdrew, and the twonon-commissioned officers entered the house to see that their biddingwas performed.

  While the latter were discussing the possibility of bushwhackers beingin the neighborhood, they were suddenly startled by a loud cackling ofhens and screaming of chickens; at the same instant a flock came rushingaround the house with half a dozen soldiers in close pursuit.

  "Good idea, boys! We will have chickens for breakfast," said CorporalGrimm.

  A dozen or more chickens were caught and killed and carried to the cook.The soldiers politely inquired of the lady of the house if they could beof any further assistance, and then most of them returned to the frontyard, where their arms were stacked or strewn promiscuously about. Threeof them, with Corporal Grimm, remained to pick the chickens and preparethem for the cook, while their very amiable hostess was sullenlygrinding away at a large coffee mill. The negro girl and therosy-cheeked daughter of the house were both very busy hurrying up thefire, putting on the kettles of water, making biscuits, and attending tothe various culinary duties.

  "Where is your husband?" asked Corporal Grimm.

  "None of your business," was the quick reply.

  "Where are your sons?" asked Grimm.

  "In Jeff Davis' army, to shoot just such thieves as you are."

  "How long have they been in Jeff Davis' army?"

  "Ever since the war commenced."

  "How old is this hen I am picking?"

  "I hope she is old enough and tough enough to choke ye to death," saidthe women, giving the coffee mill a furious rap.

  "Your husband must be a very happy man," said Corporal Grimm.

  "If he was here, you wouldn't be very happy," she replied, testily.

  "No, I am happier with his amiable spouse."

  "There, I hope that'll pizen ye," she said, emptying the ground coffeeinto a coffee-pot, and pouring boiling water over it.

  "Make it strong enough to bear up an iron wedge," said Corporal Grimm;then, addressing his men:

  "Watch the old vixen, for she may pizen us if she gets a chance."

  The men needed no second bidding, and as the cooking progressed, theywatched more keenly. They were all very hungry, yet none wanted to bepoisoned.

  Breakfast being prepared, the reluctant hostess was compelled to eatwith the soldiers, who, being thus convinced that none of the viandswere poisoned, did full justice to the really excellent meal.