The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation's Crisis by Joseph A. Altsheler (books you have to read .TXT) 📕

Bill Brayton, of Tennessee, fightin' in the rebel army, when you ought to know better,' says I. 'Now, who in thunderation am I?' 'Sufferin' Moses!' says he, 'that voice grows more like his every time he speaks. It can't be that empty-headed galoot, Dan Whitley, who never knew nothin' 'bout the rights an' wrongs of the war, an' had to go off with the Yanks!'

“'It's him an' nobody else,' says I, as I rose right up an' stood there on the bank, 'an' mighty glad am I to see you Bill, an' to know that your fool head ain't knocked off by a cannon ball.' He shorely jumped up an' down with pleasure an' he called back: 'The good Lord certainly watches over them that ain't got any sense. Dan, you flat-headed, hump-backed, round-shouldered, thin-chested, knock-kneed, club-footed son of a gun, I was never so glad to see anybody before in my life.'

“His eyes were shinin' with delight an' I know mine was, too. Reunions of old friends who for all each know have been dead a year or two, clean blowed to pieces by shells, or shot through by a hundred rifle bullets are powerful affectin'. He come down to the edge of the river an' he shot questions across to me, an' I shot questions at him, an' I felt as if a brother had riz from the dead. An' as we can't shake hands we reaches out the muzzles of our guns and shakes them towards each other in the most friendly way. Then another picket comes up, fellow by name of Henderson, from Mississippi. Bill introduces him to his good old pal, an' we three have a friendly talk. Guess they're down there yet, if you want to see 'em. I liked that fellow, Henderson, too, though he was a powerful boaster.”

“All right,” said Dick. “Lead on, but don't get us shot.”

They went cautiously through the bushes to the bank of the river, and then the sergeant blew softly between his fingers. Two figures at once appeared on the other side, and Sergeant Whitley and the boys rose up.

“Mr. Brayton and Mr. Henderson,” said the sergeant politely, “I want to introduce my friends, Lieutenant Mason, Lieutenant Warner and Lieutenant Pennington.”

“Movin' in mighty good comp'ny, though young, Dan,” said Brayton, who was about Whitley's age and build.

“They're officers, an' they're young, as you say,” said Whitley, “but they're good ones.”

“Them's the kind we eat alive, when we ain't got anything else to eat,” said the Mississippian, a very tall, sallow and youngish man. “We're never too strong on rations, and when I eat prisoners I like 'em under twenty the best. They ain't had time to get tough. I speak right now for that yellow-haired one in the middle.”

“You can't swallow me,” said Pennington, good naturedly. “I'll just turn myself crossways and stick in your throat.”

“What are you fellows after around here, anyway?” continued the Mississippian. “The weather's hot an' we all want to go in swimmin' to-morrow, bein' as we have two rivers handy. Shore as you live if you get to botherin' us we'll hurt you.”

“You won't hurt us,” said Dick, “because to-morrow we're going to surround you and drive you into a coop.”

“Drive us in a coop. See here, Yank, you're gettin' excited. Do you know how many men we have here waitin' for you? Of course you don't. Why, it's four hundred thousand, ain't it, Bill?”

“No, it's just two hundred thousand. I don't believe in lyin' fur effect, Jim.”

“I ain't lyin'. There's two hundred thousand men. Then there's Bobby Lee. That's a hundred thousand more, which makes three hundred thousand. Then there's Stonewall Jackson, who's another hundred thousand, which brings the figures up to exactly what I said, four hundred thousand. Now, ain't I right, Bill?”

“You shorely are, Jim. I was a fool for countin' the way I did. Will you overlook it this time?”

“Wa'al, I will this time, but be shore you don't do it ag'in. Now, see here, you Yanks: we like you well enough. You're friends of Bill, who is a friend of me. Just you take my advice an' go home. Start to-night while the weather is warm, an' the roads are good. If you're afraid of our chasin' you we'll give you a runnin' start of a hunderd miles.”

“Wa'al now, that's right kind of you,” said Whitley. “I for one might take your advice, but I was froze up so much in them wild mountains an' plains of the northwest that I like to go south when the winter's comin' on. It's hot now, all right, but in two months the chilly blasts will be seekin' my marrow.”

“I was speakin' for your own good,” said the Mississippian gravely. “Anyway, you won't be troubled by the cold weather 'cause if you don't go back into the no'th where you belong, we'll be takin' you a prisoner way down south, where you don't belong. But you could have a good time there. We won't treat you bad. There's fine huntin' for b'ars in the canebrake an' the rivers an' bayous are full of fish. Your captivity won't be downright painful on you.”

“Glad to get your welcome, Mr. Henderson,” said Whitley, “'cause we've heard a lot 'bout the hospitality of Mississippi, an' we're shorely goin' to stretch it. I'm comin', an' I'm bringin' a couple of hundred thousand fellers 'bout my size with me. Funny thing, we'll all wear blue coats just alike. Think you'd find room for us?”

“Plenty of it. What was it the feller said—we welcome you with bloody hands to hospitable graves—but we ain't feelin' that way to-night. Got a plug of terbacker?”

The sergeant took out a square of tobacco, cut it in exact halves with his pocket knife, and tossed one-half across the Antietam, where it was deftly caught by the Mississippian.

“Thanks mightily,” said Henderson. “Mr. Commissary Banks used to supply us with good things, then it was Mr. Commissary Pope, and now I reckon it'll be Mr. Commissary McClellan. Say, how many fellers have you got over thar, anyway?”

“When I counted 'em last night,” replied the sergeant calmly, “there was five hundred and twelve thousand two hundred and fifty-three infantry, sixty-four thousand two hundred and nineteen cavalry an' three thousand one hundred and seventy-five cannon, but I reckon we'll receive reinforcements of three hundred thousand before mornin'.”

“Then we'll have more prisoners than I thought. Are you shore them three hundred thousand reinforcements will get up in time?”

“Quite shore. I've sent 'em word to hurry.”

“Then we'll have to take them, too.”

“Time you fellers quit your talkin',” said Brayton, “a major or a colonel may come strollin' 'long here any minute, an' they don't like for us fellers to be too friendly. Dan, I'm powerful glad to see you ag'in, an' I hope you won't get killed. I've a feelin' that you an' me will be ridin' over the plains once more some day, an' we won't be fightin' each other. We'll be fightin' Sioux an' Cheyennes an' all that red lot, just as we did in the old days. Here's a good-bye.”