A Rebellion in Dixie by Harry Castlemon (best books to read in life .TXT) 📕

How the song got down there they didn’t know. Probably some of those who had been 110prisoners in the hands of the Federals, and there were a good many old soldiers in the lot, had heard it sung by their captors, and now that they were fighting for the Union they resolved to imitate them as far as possible. Finally, when Mr. Sprague appeared riding along beside them, somebody thought he ought to be praised for what he had done, so he called out, in tones that were heard to the farthest end of the line:

“Three cheers for Colonel Sprague. Hip, hip, hurrah!”

All the men immediately around there joined in in cheering Colonel Sprague—they had given him a new title, now—and Mr. Sprague took off his hat. As far as he went along the line everybody cheered him, and there was something in their way of talking to his father that made Leon feel very happy. He was bringing up the rear, leading his captured horse as he went, until he found himself opposite a wagon managed by his friend Tom Howe. Leon was glad to see him, for he had not spoken with him since they left Ellisville. There were three men on the driver’s 111seat, and Tom was sitting on the knees of one and handling the reins over his four-mule team as if he had been used to it all his life.

“G’lang here!” he shouted when he saw Leon riding by. “We don’t take no slack from anybody. But say, Leon, you will stand by me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will stand by you,” said Leon. “But I don’t know what you mean.”

“Do you see that leading muel there, that white one?” said Tom, pointing out the animal in question. “Well, that’s mine. There ain’t been anybody to lay a claim to him and I want him.”

“I guess you can have him,” said Leon. “But why don’t you take a horse?”

“I would rather have the muel than that horse you are leading by the bits. Where did you get him?”

“I got these weapons,” said Leon, showing the revolver and sword he carried about his waist and the carbine he held in his hand, “from a young fellow who gave them up to me without being asked. He has gone off in the bushes, now, to get out of sight of the other 112members of the escort, but he’ll be back directly.”

“Who let him go into the bushes?” inquired one of the men who was sitting on the driver’s seat with Tom.

“I did.”

“Well, he has taken a rough way to escape. Why didn’t he stay here and march away with his squad?”

“But he don’t want to escape,” said Leon. “He is a Union man, and he wants to go home with us.”

“You are the most confiding man I ever saw. You will never see him again.”

“Then I shall have a horse and weapons to give to somebody who needs them. I don’t need them myself. When you want to get that mule, Tom, you come to me.”

“I’ll do it,” said Tom, as he unwound his lash and gave the leading white mule a cut with the whip to make him pull faster; whereupon the mule’s ears came back and he kicked with both hind feet in the direction of the wagon, barely missing the wheel-mule’s head. Leon laughed heartily. “Well, you see, he 113hasn’t been taught to pull in a wagon. This is his first attempt, but he is gay on horseback, and I’ll bet on it. I’ll teach him in two days so that he won’t kick.”

Leon urged his horse on ahead to catch up with the cavalry, but he had not made many steps before the bushes parted at his side and the young rebel who owned the steed he was leading came out.

“Have they gone?” said he, and he acted like one who felt overjoyed. “I told you I would come back, and here I am. May I get up and ride my horse?”

“Certainly,” said Leon, and he felt so delighted to see the rebel that he could have hugged him. He didn’t know what his father would say to him for allowing that man to go out in the bushes. He gave up the horse, and the young fellow swung himself into the saddle.

“I am glad you didn’t give him up to some of your men who have no horses of their own,” said the rebel, as he accompanied Leon toward the head of the column. “My father raised this animal, I broke him myself, and 114he’s got just the kind of a gait that I like. Now, what are you going to do here in this county? Are you going to rebel against the Confederacy sure enough?”

“We have gone out already,” said Leon. “I haven’t got a copy of the resolutions with me, but you can see them when you get up to Ellisville.”

“It beats anything I ever heard of,” exclaimed the rebel, who burst out laughing every time he thought of it. “The idea that one county in the very heart of the Southern Confederacy should cut loose from it and say that they are Union men beats my time all holler. I told my father about it—”

“Where is your father now?” interrupted Leon.

“He is in the rebel army.”

“Was he conscripted?”

“No. We didn’t wait for that, but we heard enough to let us know what Jeff Davis was going to do. More than that, some of our neighbors began to talk about hanging those who did not believe as they did to the plates of their own gallery, and as we could get into 115the cavalry by enlisting then, we rode down to the county-seat one day and gave our names in.”

“Have you been in any fights?”

“Two or three; but, mind you, I always shot high. I never drew a bullet on a Union man in my life. I live only three or four miles from where you stopped us, and I really wish the authorities of Jones county would give me permission to go back and get my mother.”

“Do you think your father would come up here after that?”

“Of course he would. We have done nothing but think and talk about what you fellows are doing here ever since we have been in the army. There was a distinct understanding between my father and myself that whoever escaped first should bring my mother here.”

“Well, Mr.— Mr.—,” began Leon.

“Dawson is my name,” said the rebel.

“If you turn out to be all right I will go with you,” said Leon.

“Will you?” exclaimed the rebel, so highly 116excited that he could hardly speak plainly. “I know we will succeed, for you have been in fights enough to know what it means.”

“I don’t understand you,” said Leon. “This is as near as I have come to being in a fight.”

“What! Capturing our wagon-train? You don’t tell me! Well, I have seen men who had been in three or four battles that showed more nervousness than you did. You were not excited a bit.”

Leon very wisely concluded that he would not say anything more on this subject just then. He never was more excited in his life than when he rode along the line and demanded the rebel’s weapons. If Dawson thought he wasn’t excited, so much the better for him.

“I certainly thought you had been where you had seen men knocked down by the cart-load,” said Dawson, looking at Leon to see what he was made of. “I have been where I have seen a whole platoon laid out at one fire, but I never go into action without feeling afraid. After this trouble is all over I would like to compare notes with you.”

117“To see how many times I am afraid?” asked Leon. “I don’t care to compare notes with you on that, for I know I shall feel afraid all the time. I’ve got one chum here who won’t haul in his shingle one inch to please anybody, and we’ll ask him to go with us.”

“Two men are all we want,” said Dawson. “By the way, there was a friend of mine deserted the camp night before last, and he stole the wagon-master’s horse to help him along. I don’t suppose you have seen anything of him, have you?”

“We have a rebel up to Ellisville, and he says that was the way he got away. But his horse and weapons have been taken from him.”

“That’s all right. You wanted him to prove to you that he was true-blue before you let him have his fire-arms. But he’s all hunky-dory. He told you about this wagon-train? I never saw him