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

get up to command in place of his colonel a second discharge followed, which came within an ace of putting the column to a rout. Dan and Cale were on their feet as soon as they struck the ground, the former with his left arm hanging loose and the latter with a bullet-hole through both cheeks.

“I’ve got it now! I’ve got it now!” moaned Dan, and when he tried to raise his arm he saw that the lower part of it was useless.

“And I, too!” yelled Cale. “What’s the matter with my face, Dan? I can’t hardly talk.”

But Dan wasn’t staying around there to tell Cale what was the matter with his face. 343In fact he didn’t think anything of his brother at all, for his thoughts were wrapped up in his own wound. He gazed at the fallen men who were scattered around him, heard the major issue some rapid orders, and then he, too, fell off his horse. The pickets were evidently going for the officers, and they made short work of them. Dan saw and heard all this and then made a desperate lunge for the bushes, and Cale was close at his heels when he got there.

“Oh, my face!” groaned Cale. “I wish I knew what was the matter with it.”

“Do you think there is nobody killed but yourself?” retorted Dan. “Look at this arm. It don’t hurt me so much, but it feels bruised, and you have got nothing but a bullet-hole through your cheeks.”

By this time the column was under command of a captain, who had little difficulty in rallying them, and Dan heard a yell such as he had never heard before, the yell of charging cavalry, and he saw the body of men sweep on toward the bridge; but when they got there they saw the Union pickets far up 344the road. But they loaded their rifles as fast as they went, and when they turned around to fire at their pursuers some man was certain to go down. At last the captain who commanded the cavalry went over also, and this left Captain Cullom, who was the second in rank, in charge of the regiment.

“Forward!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “They are going on ahead to arouse the other men, and we must overtake them before they get there.”

Again that charging yell arose, and it was answered by yells equally as savage from the Union men, who turned and fired another volley at them. The ten miles that lay between them and Ellisville were quickly passed over, and by the time the pickets had arrived within sight of the camp there was not a man to be seen. The houses didn’t look as though there was anybody around them, but when they came nearer they found that every window was filled with sharpshooters. The church, too, was used as a barricade, and as it stood broadside to the road we can imagine that it must have been hot work for that column 345of cavalry to have stood against it. As they came opposite the hotel the door opened and Mr. Knight and Mr. Sprague stepped out.

“What is going on down the road?” asked the former.

“The rebs are coming!” shouted half a dozen voices. “They have got a whole regiment of cavalry with them. We hain’t lost a man.”

“You have done nobly,” said Mr. Sprague. “Go around behind the church-house and make your horses fast, and go in there. Be ready to shoot when you hear us.”

“This looks like a fight,” said one of the pickets, as they made their way into the church. “Boys, I laid out one traitor the first fire I had. It was that miserable Dan Newman.”

“And I made all haste to lay out the other one,” chimed in a second. “His brother, Cale Newman, was there, and Bob, here, shot the man’s horse, and I took particular aim at his head. I know I hit him, but I did not fix him. I saw him get up and go into the bushes.”

346“Here they come!” said one of the sharp-shooters, who was keeping watch at one of the windows. “There is lots of them, ain’t they?”

“Yes, but it is going to take more than they have got to get away with us,” said one of the pickets. “If ten men can throw a column like that into confusion, they won’t stand long against the fire of five hundred.”

“Now, all you men who can get there at the window fire your one shot, and then fall back and give somebody else a chance,” said the quartermaster—the one who had refused to give Cale Newman a mule. “In that way we can keep up a regular fusillade on them.”

The Confederates came on, yelling as they went, and there was more than one man who took note of the fact that discipline was a great thing. All those in front were coming to their death, but not one was seen to flinch. The men in the church began to wonder if Mr. Sprague had forgotten how to shoot, his signal was so long delayed, and some of the most excitable ones yelled “Fire!” as the rebels came on, but the calm voice of their leader broke in with:

347“Steady there, men. Don’t shoot until you have the word;” and scarcely had he got the words out of his mouth when a rifle-shot came from the hotel across the way, and an instant afterward nearly a thousand rifles and carbines cracked in unison. The slaughter was fearful. The captain, who was leading the charge, fell with a dozen bullets in his person, and when the smoke cleared away so that they could see the effect of the shot, they found that the leading company had been dismounted, and their horses were running about as if they didn’t know which way to go.

“Now, you men at the window who have had a hand in this fall back,” said the quartermaster; but nobody seemed to hear him. The men struggled to keep their places, and the men in the body of the church, finding that no opportunity was to be given them, opened the door and went out. Then the rebels got another volley, and it was almost as disastrous as the first. And this wasn’t the worst of it. All the men came out from their hiding-places, from the hotel and from behind the trees that concealed them in the grove, and 348the surviving rebels, seeing nothing before them but a regiment of Union men who were backed by rifles that never missed, and more running up to join them, took to their heels and made the best of their time down the road.

“Get on your horses and follow them!” shouted Mr. Knight from the window of the hotel. “Don’t let one escape!”

That was the way the rebels got scattered. The Union men pursued them on fresh horses; and some of them, seeing that their chances for escape were slim indeed, threw down their arms and surrendered, while the rest took off through the woods. That was the time that Leon and Ballard might have added some glory to their escape by capturing the two men who went across the creek, but the trouble was they didn’t know how the thing had ended.

“Now, if you think they were whipped we can go up the main road,” said Leon. “But I really shouldn’t like to get so close to home and then have them jump onto me.”

“I shouldn’t like it, either,” said Ballard, with a laugh. “I would be apt to fare worse 349than you would. But can’t we go on and reconnoitre the ground? If we find some of your men there we’ll be safe.”

“Let us try it,” said Leon. “Anything is better than walking through this thick underbrush.”

Leon was not more than half a mile below the bridge, and before he had gone that distance he heard somebody talking in the road. He raised his hand to Ballard, and the latter at once took his horse by the head and forced it down. Leon held on, and after carefully feeling his way came upon several Union men who were gathered about a rebel who had been shot from his horse. One of the Union men he recognized as Bud McCoy, but who the others were he didn’t know.

“Halloo! there. You licked them, didn’t you?”

“Well, I’ll be dog-gone!” exclaimed the man, as he turned about and saw Leon advancing upon him through the bushes. “Where have you been? Your pap has been in a heap of worry about you.”

“And well he might be,” said Leon. “I 350have been a prisoner. Come on, Ballard; it’s all right.”

The men all straightenedstraightened up—they were busy getting ready to remove the wounded rebel—and presently saw Ballard coming through the woods leading his horse.

“And here’s the man who saved me,” added Leon. “Know him, boys. His name is Ballard. He was going to take me down to Mobile, but after he got out of sight of the rebels he asked me into the woods and gave me something to eat. How many of the Confederates did you kill?”

“But first, I want to know how you came to be taken prisoner?” said Bud. “Did you run onto the rebels before you knew it? The last time I saw you, you were up to old Newman’s house.”

“No, I didn’t run onto the rebels before I saw them,” said Leon; and he knew the confession he was about to make would not meet the entire approval of Bud McCoy. “One man made a prisoner of me.”

“Who was it?”

“Dan Newman.”

351“And you had a revolver in your pocket?”

“Yes, but he got it away from me.”

“Dan Newman! Well, I’ll be dog-gone! Before I would let a man like Dan Newman capture me—”

“But, Bud, he threw me down when I didn’t know he was near me,” protested Leon, “and when I turned over to see what had happened to me, there was my own revolver aimed straight at me.”

“Well, you will never have an opportunity to get even with him now,” said Bud. “He was shot right through the arm, and his brother got a bullet-hole through both cheeks.”

“Why, who did that?” exclaimed Leon, who felt very much disappointed to hear it. He had always contended that no Newman could handle him, and now he would have to live with that shadow on his mind.

“I don’t know; some of the pickets did it, Tom Howe was almost as worked up as your father. He’s down there now, helping gather up the wounded rebels,” said Bud, jerking his head down the road.

“I hope Dan will get well, for I am bound 352to try my strength with him some day,” said Leon. “Has anybody here got a horse that I can ride?”

“Take that gray,” said one of the men, “I have got to carry this man to Ellisville, so I will have to walk.”

Leon thanked him, unhitched the horse, swung himself upon his back and galloped across the bridge and down the road to the place where his two friends were at work. Tom and Dawson were surprised to see him, and while he was telling them the story he looked all around to find Dan and Cale. He wantedwanted to see how badly hurt Dan was, for he believed, if they were to measure strength once more, that Dan would go under.

“There’s one thing that happened about this business that you won’t like,” said Tom; and he spoke as though he was very much disheartened himself. “Old man Smith was badly wounded during the fight.”

“Why, how did that happen?” asked Leon in surprise.

“Well, you must know that all the shooting that was done wasn’t confined to our 353men,” said Tom. “The rebels rallied two or three times, and every time they poured in a volley.”

“But how did Mr. Smith get hit? Wasn’t he under cover?”

“Yes; he was in the hotel with your father, but he came out. He was just getting all ready to fire when a bullet took him in the side and over he went.”

Leon was very sorry to hear this. He remembered that Mr. Smith had told him particularly that he had something to say to him, and he had not been near him since. Perhaps if he went directly home he would get there in time to hear what he had to say. He didn’t think it anything worth listening to, but he would show his good-will. While he was looking around at the dead and wounded Confederates lying there—and he was really surprised when he saw what a havoc ten guns had made in the assaulting column—he became aware that there was a man leaning on a rifle and keeping guard over several prisoners. Among them were Dan and Cale. One’s arm and the other’s face had been bandaged