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

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  ANOTHER PHASE OF SOLDIER LIFE.

  A long line of muddy wagons, and a longer line of muddy soldiers wasmoving southward. It was one of those dark, cold, rainy days in March,when the elements above, the earth beneath, the winds about, seem toconspire to make man miserable, and surely no men could have looked moremiserable than the long line of muddy soldiers. Some were mounted, butthe largest number by far were infantry and plodded along on foot.Various were the moods of the soldiers. Some were gay, singing,laughing, telling jokes; others were silent and morose, complaining andcursing their hard lot. The latter class were termed professional"growlers" by their comrades. One light-hearted fellow declared that anyone, who would complain at their lot, would be capable of grumbling atthe prospect of being hanged.

  A fine, persistent rain had been falling nearly all day, and the menwere cold and wet and tired plodding through the mud.

  Two soldiers were toiling along behind an ammunition wagon, one with thestripes of corporal on his sleeves, the other a private.

  "I don't mind fighting or being shot," said the private, a young man andevidently a new recruit, "but the idea of a man's dragging himself apartand scattering the pieces along in the mud in this fashion is decidedlydisagreeable."

  "No danger of that," said his companion, who was no other than theirrepressible Corporal Grimm.

  "Isn't, eh? I tell you my legs are coming unjointed at the knees, andI'll soon be going on the stumps."

  "Yer not used to this," said Corporal Grimm. "I tell ye, when ye getused to it, this is nuthin'. Why, when I was with General Preston, wetraveled so fur and so long in the quicksand, and our legs became soloose at the knees, that we had to run straps under the soles of ourboots and strap our legs tight to our bodies, or we would have lost 'emsure."

  "Well, I shall have to go to strapping mine soon, I am certain," saidthe young soldier with an incredulous smile.

  "Them was awful times when I was out with General Preston!" said thecorporal, shaking his head in sad reminiscence.

  Abner Tompkins was with this train, but having sprained his ankle, hewas unable to ride his horse, and had been placed in a wagon. All daylong it had rumbled and jolted over the hills of Southern Virginia, andhe was tired, sick, and faint with the constant motion. He leanedagainst the side of the wagon and gazed out from under the cover. He sawa long line of slow-moving, muddy wagons, and to the right a long lineof infantry, some of the men wet and weary as they were singing.

  Passing one part of the line, he heard a not unmusical voice caroling:

  "Oh, that darling little girl, that pretty little girl, The girl I left behind me."

  Further a chorus of voices joined in:

  "All the world is cold and dreary Everywhere I roam."

  These suddenly hushed, when the song was completed, and one poor boy,determined to rouse the drooping spirits of his comrades, was heardtrying to sing "Annie Laurie."

  This was soon interrupted by some wild fellow, who broke out with:

  "Raccoon up a gum-stump, opposum up a holler"--

  Next came "Rally round the flag, boys," roared out by half a hundredthroats, and all the popular songs of the day were sung as solos, duetsor choruses--all, except "Dixie," for this was not a "Dixie" crowd.

  "Poor fellows!" sighed Abner, as he lay back on his couch in the wagon."Enjoy your jokes and songs if you can; it is small comfort that awaitsyou. Your only beds will be wet earth to-night, your only covering thelowering clouds of heaven."

  Night was fast approaching, and the division commander sent men ahead todetermine a suitable location for encampment. A field, with wood andwater close by, was selected, and the soldiers soon spread over it.Camp-fires gleamed bright in the darkness, pickets were stationed andguards thrown around the camp.

  Abner, who was unable to walk without the aid of a crutch, gave hisinstructions for the night and then returned to the wagon, where he wasto sleep. It was not an ambulance wagon, but simply a baggage-wagon,with a couch arranged within for the captain.

  The wide, desolate field, with its hundreds of blackened stumps, gnarledsnags, and drenched and matted grass, soon presented an exciting and notan uncheerful scene. The artillery and ammunition wagons were drawn upin a hollow square in the centre of the camp, and the baggage-wagonsformed a circle about them. Then over all the broad acres of the field,from its farthest hilly border to the ravines beyond, hundreds ofcamp-fires blazed. The fences for miles disappeared, and roots and snagsvanished as if by magic.

  Abner was a patient sufferer, and, when the regimental surgeon came withhis lantern on one arm and his box of instruments, medicines, andplasters on the other, he underwent, without a groan, the dressing andbandaging, firmly resolving not to have any more sprained ankles to bedressed, if he could avoid it.

  "Captain--hem, hem!--Captain Tompkins," said a voice, as a head wasthrust in the wagon front.

  "Well, what will you have?"

  "Are you alone?"

  "Yes, come in."

  Abner had lighted a small piece of candle, which he had placed on a boxat the head of his couch.

  A little round-faced man, with glasses on his nose, entered the wagonand seated himself on a camp-stool near the box, on which the captainhad placed his light.

  "Well, Diggs, we have had a disagreeable day for marching."

  "Yes, captain," said the little fellow, removing a greasy sutler's cap."It has thoroughly satisfied me that I am not for the army. A soldier'slife may suit coarser natures, but one such as mine, one that recoilsfrom uncleanliness and confusion, and death by torture, should not bebrought in daily contact with sights and sounds so repellant."

  "I thought," said Corporal Grimm, who had just come to the wagon front,"that you had resolved to become a preacher."

  Mr. Diggs turned towards the new-comer with an unuttered oath.

  The corporal's laugh brought half a dozen soldiers to his side.

  "Didn't you tell that preacher, that prayed a week for you, that you hadtalent for a preacher, and that you would be one if only you got out ofthat scrape?"

  "What's the use of bringing up those old things again?" said Mr. Diggs,angrily. "I--hem, hem!--feel satisfied that my real vocation lies in theeditorial field. I think I shall try my hand in the newspaper business."

  "Better try preaching first. Maybe you can assist the chaplain nextSunday."

  The little greasy sutler's clerk flew into a rage and left the wagon,cursing the fates that would not give him renown.

  Diggs having gone, the rest also withdrew, but Abner was not yet to havethe rest he so much needed. Scarcely had they gone before the entranceof the wagon was darkened again, this time by that strange person wehave known as Yellow Steve. Abner had not seen him since the day heprevented the combat between himself and his brother in the forest,between Snagtown and the Twin Mountains.

  "Well, sir," he demanded, "what are you doing here, more than twohundred miles from your usual place of abode."

  "Forests and mountains everywhere are my usual place of abode, and havebeen for the last eighteen years."

  "You have been a slave," said Abner.

  "Yes, sir, and for eighteen years a fugitive. I have become accustomedto constant flying, to battling blood-hounds and their no less brutalowners, to all the mysteries of wood craft. Many are the bloodhoundsthat I have put to death, and have sent more than a few negro huntersplunging over the steep cascades and mountain sides to certain death.For eighteen years my life has been devoted to the liberation of my poorrace, and I can number by hundreds the fugitives whom I have induced toleave their masters and have guided to where freedom awaited them."

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I am the sutler's steward, and, strange as you may think it, CaptainTompkins, I have come with the regiment on purpose to be near you. Ihave a story, a sad, dark story to tell you, that will strike you withwonder and horror. In these times life is uncertain and I must be nearyou when my time comes. I
have written it, and the manuscript can not belost; my trunk, in the sutler's camp, holds it."

  The strange being was gone, and Abner was left alone to wonder.