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

  CHAPTER XVII.

  A SOLDIER'S TURKEY HUNT.

  The armies of the North and the armies of the South had beenconcentrating for months prior to the battle of Bull Run, resulting inthe defeat of the Northern troops and in heavy loss to both sides; aftercollision came recoil, as of mighty waves dashing against a rock boundcoast. Predatory bands of disorganized soldiers from both sides roamedthe country, and, in many instances, not plundering merely, butruthlessly destroying what they could not seize.

  Mr. Diggs had found his company the day after the battle, and narratedto his comrades his hair-breadth escape and the many heroic deeds whichhe had performed, among others, the deadly attack on the Confederatecavalryman, who had wounded him in the shoulder. He became quite a heroin Corporal Grimm's eyes, his experience at Bull Run reminding thecorporal of incidents that had happened in his ten days' militaryservice under General Preston, also recalling to the mind of SergeantSwords details of his own service under Captain Strong, all of which wascircumstantially narrated for the edification of Mr. Diggs, who againrejoiced that he had not carried out his rash threat of leaving thearmy. Laurels yet, he knew, must crown his brow. Already he had become ahero. True, when faced by danger and death and sorely tried, heacknowledged to himself that he wavered; but, in the quiet of camp, hispatriotism returned and he again felt ready to meet the foe.

  The day after the battle, the body of Willie Thornbridge was consignedto its last resting-place. There were but two mourners gathered overthat little mound of earth--his captain and Uncle Dan, the scout, whofelt, not only grief for the brave young life so early ended, but adeeper pain for the widowed mother at home, now childless.

  Colonel Holdfast's regiment was falling back toward the Junction, itsold head-quarters. Their movements were necessarily slow, as they wereconstantly recruiting, and they were compelled to be wary, for smallparties of stragglers were occasionally picked up by independentcompanies of Confederates.

  One evening Corporal Grimm suggested to Sergeant Swords that they forman independent foraging corps of half a dozen and make a raid on theturkeys of an old rebel, about a mile from the camp, that night. Thesergeant acquiesced--we never knew a sergeant who would not acquiesce insuch a plan, even at the risk of being reduced to the ranks--and theywere not long in finding plenty of volunteers. The corps must not exceedsix, as the secret could not be so well kept among more, and a largerforce could not be so well handled.

  Our friend Diggs was easily persuaded to enter into the project. For thelast two days he had been contemplating writing a book, to be entitled"Camp Life," narrating his own experiences. This freak, he thought,might afford a diverting incident.

  Great caution and secrecy were necessary, for, if knowledge of theirproject reached head-quarters, it would have put an end to their sport.At dark, having provided themselves with a dark lantern, they passed theguard and wended their way over the long hill toward the barn-yard ofthe old rebel. The night was very dark with a rainy mist or fog, whichmade darkness and discomfort more intense.

  "Now, boys," said Sergeant Swords, "this is an old rebel, and we have aperfect right to confiscate his turkeys; but let us be quiet about it,so as not to disturb the old man."

  "Of course," said Corporal Grimm, "let him rest in peace, and dreamsweet dreams of the coming glory of the Southern Confederacy."

  They stole noiselessly over the damp ground, occasionally chuckling withdelight at the thought of their coming feast. The long hill was passedover and the barn reached, where the unsuspecting rebel turkeys wereroosting.

  "This is delightful," thought Mr. Diggs, his short legs moving rapidly,in order to keep up with the rest of the company. "What an entertaining,amusing, and instructive chapter this will furnish for my book! This isone phase of soldier life. Night so black, so intensely black--hem--thatone might write his name in chalk upon it. Dark, wild clouds and howlingwinds with thick banks of fog almost blocking the way, as six resolute,determined, dare-devil soldiers, of whom the modest writer was one--He,he, he!" chuckled Diggs to himself. "I'll make it capital."

  His ruminations were brought to a close by arriving at the tall, darkbarn, where Sergeant Swords called a halt and solemnly informed hiscommand that the desired turkeys were inside.

  "I say--hem, hem, hem!" began Mr. Diggs.

  "Well, don't make so much noise about it!" whispered Corporal Grimm,clutching him by the arm, "or we will have the old rebel and his fivehundred niggers on us in no time."

  The door of the barn was locked, but this slight obstacle was soonovercome.

  "Quick!" whispered Sergeant Swords, and the men glided in.

  The loud barking of a dog from the house came to their ears, and thesound of angry voices. Tom Scott closed the large double door just asthe nose of a ferocious dog came thump against them.

  "Hist!" said the sergeant. "I believe we are discovered."

  "What is it, old man?" came in shrill accents from the house.

  "Some one's in the barn stealing hosses."

  At this moment the turkeys, becoming alarmed at the very evidentexpressed intentions of the intruders, set up a loud "Quit, quit!"

  "They're stealing the turkeys. It's some of them thievin'Aberlitionists," said the old woman.

  "You bring the lantern, and I'll see," answered a deep voice, evidentlythat of the cross old rebel himself.

  "We're in for it now, boys," said Sergeant Swords, turning on the lightfrom his dark lantern. "Hunt holes somewhere."

  Tom Scott had enough to do to hold the doors against the dog, whichseemed determined to force an entrance. Corporal Grimm sprang into ameal chest, which he saw at the far end of the barn, and the lid closeddown on him; two others found concealment behind a hay-mow, and SergeantSwords and Mr. Diggs sprang up among the rafters, where the turkeys wereroosting.

  "Oh, Lordy! I shall be killed, I know I shall!" wailed poor Diggs, as hescrambled up.

  The turkeys were now remonstrating loudly.

  "Stop your chin music!" said the sergeant.

  Tom Scott was still holding the doors when the old man and his wife cameto them.

  "Some one is in the barn," said the voice of the old man. "See here, thelock is broken off."

  In a moment, in spite of Tom's efforts, the door was pushed open, andthe bull dog, with loud, deep yelps, sprang in.

  Tom kept well behind the door, and pulled it close against him. The oldwoman held up a lantern, and the sergeant and our friend Diggs were bothdiscovered by the man and the dog at the same time.

  The dog announced his discovery by angry growls, and his master, a manabout fifty years of age, by closely examining an old, ugly musket inhis hand.

  "Hulloa, you thieves; I've cotched you now?" he said, advancing.

  "Good evening, sir," said Swords.

  "What are you doing up there, you scamps?"

  "Roosting," was the cool response.

  "Shoot them!" said the old woman, holding up the lantern.

  "Oh, no! don't, grandpa," said the sergeant.

  "Oh, Lordy! I'll be killed!" wailed Diggs, trying to screen himselfbehind a turkey.

  Click went the old musket.

  "Quit, quit," peeped the turkeys.

  "I second the motion," said Sergeant Swords.

  "Shoot them, old man; shoot 'em dead," repeated the woman, whose eyeswere blazing with fury at sight of the blue-coats.

  "I intend to," he said, bringing his musket to his shoulder, whichmovement made Diggs fairly howl with fear.

  "Hold on, grandpa; give a fellow a chance to say his prayers afore youpop him over," said Sergeant Swords. "If you don't turn away that oldpopgun you may hurt some of these turkeys. Besides, I've got a battalionof men here all around you, and I can raise the devil."

  At this moment the dog, which had been prowling about, discovered TomScott behind the door, and renewed his attack upon him. Tom fired twoshots from his revolver, one of which silenced the dog forever. The twomen in the hay-mow now came rolling down, much like two huge balls,
eachsnatching a turkey as he came.

  Corporal Grimm sprang from the meal-chest, white as a snowball.

  "Look there, old man; thar's a ghost!" cried the woman, pointing atCorporal Grimm. The old man leveled his musket and fired, but the shotflew wide of its mark, and Corporal Grimm advanced.

  The old man and old woman took to their heels, and the next moment washeard the sound of many voices and the tramp of many feet.

  "Secesh, by hokey!" cried Sergeant Swords, leaping from his perch with agobbler's neck in each hand. "Git up and git!" and all made a rapidexit, leaving poor Diggs still perched on the rafters, bewildered andconfused. In their haste they left the dark lantern in the barn with theslides open, by the side of the old woman's lantern, which she haddropped in her haste.

  "Oh, Lordy, I shall be killed; I know I shall," wailed poor Diggs,frozen to his perch by his terror.

  Bang! bang! bang! went a dozen shots, their blaze lighting up theintense darkness. It came from the new arrivals firing at the flyingsoldiers, who were rapidly retreating with their prizes. Tom Scott losta thumb by a random shot, but he did not lose either of the two turkeyshe had started with.

  "Who were they, Seth?" Diggs heard a voice outside ask.

  "I don't know; abolition soldiers, probably, stealing chickens," repliedanother voice.

  Diggs thought he had heard both voices before, but in his terror he wasnot sure.

  "Guess they got no chickens," said a third voice, and Diggs could hearthe speaker ramming a load down his gun.

  "Let's take a look in the barn," said the first speaker. "Halloa! ifthey ain't left their lanterns burning; left in a hurry, I guess."

  The blood fairly froze in the veins of our friend Diggs, as he heardseveral steps approaching the barn door. Flight was now impossible, ifit had not been before.

  Several men, dressed in the gray uniform of Confederates, appeared atthe barn door.

  "Halloa!" cried one, in the uniform of a lieutenant, "here is a deaddog. Can that be what those three shots were fired at which brought ushere?"

  "By Jove, Lieutenant Snapemup, there's a queer rooster," and thespeaker pointed to our friend Diggs, who sat trembling astride therafter.

  "Who are you and what are you doing up there?" cried LieutenantSnapemup.

  "Oh, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy!" groaned Diggs.

  "Come down there, Stumpy," cried Diggs' old tormentor and formercompanion, Seth Williams, entering.

  As Diggs showed no sign of an intention to obey his order, Seth adopteda summary method for bringing him down. Taking a musket from a soldier,he fired a shot which passed about a foot above the small, round head.With a howl of fear and desperation, Diggs, who verily believed he waskilled, let go his hold and fell from the beam, head first into the openmeal-chest that was just beneath him.

  "Williams, what do you mean? You have killed him!" cried LieutenantSnapemup.

  "No, I have not touched him," replied Seth.

  "Who is it?" asked Howard Jones entering the barn.

  "A Yank," replied Williams, and, walking forward to the chest, whereDiggs was floundering and sneezing in the meal, he seized him by thenape of the neck, pulled him out and deposited him on the floor, wherehe stood, white with meal, and his eyes and ears full.

  "Who are you?" asked Seth, peering into the face of his victim, whostood digging his fists into his eyes.

  "I--I--hem--that is--I don't know," stammered Diggs.

  "Let me see," said Williams, giving him a shake so vigorous that themeal flew in white clouds from his hair and clothes. "I do. I know you.You are Patrick Henry Diggs, by all that's wonderful! Where have youbeen, corporal?"

  "I--hem--I--I--that is to say, I don't know," gasped Diggs.

  "You don't hey? Well, collect your ideas," replied Seth.

  "Well, yes--hem--that is to say--hem, hem--I have been a prisoner."

  The men now crowded around Diggs, who, having collected his faculties,told them how he had been taken prisoner at Carrick's Ford, how he hadtried again and again to escape, how he had joined the foraging partywith the full intention of escaping; he told a moving story of thecompulsion which had been used to force him to put on the uniform of aUnion soldier.

  Seth Williams told him that they were very glad they had found him, forthey were going back to Snagtown, and he knew Crazy Joe would mourn ifhis mud man did not return with the rest. Diggs flew into a fury as ofold; but the barn and premises having been explored, the word of commandwas given, and Mr. Diggs found himself again on the march, but this timewith other matter for thought than a diverting chapter for hiscontemplated book.