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Read books online » Fiction » Stand By The Union by Oliver Optic (top 10 best books of all time .txt) 📖

Book online «Stand By The Union by Oliver Optic (top 10 best books of all time .txt) 📖». Author Oliver Optic



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and the steamer began to back her screw.

As soon as the Bronx had lost her headway, the screw was stopped, and a drift lead was dropped into the water. A sharp lookout had been kept, 313 and some flickering lights had been reported. The weather had become cloudy since noon, but there was no fog and no wind.

"You will let Mr. Pennant command this expedition, Mr. Flint," said Christy. "He will take the first cutter, with ten men, including Quartermaster Vincent and Bornhoff."

The third lieutenant was sent for, and his instructions were given to him. Mike would be his pilot, and could give him such information as he required in regard to the locality. He was to land in some convenient locality, cross the island on foot at the plantation, to Fort Lafitte, distant less than a mile, and ascertain if there were a steamer or other vessels in the bay. He was also instructed to use all means in his power to ascertain the strength of the fort. He was to make a landing about half a mile west of the plantation buildings.

Within the limits of these instructions, he was to act on his own judgment. Mike was sent for, and further information in regard to the course was obtained from him. The officer was cautioned to be prudent, and not fall into any traps. If he discovered that there was a steamer in the bay, 314 and that the fort was not heavily armed, he was to burn a red roman candle as a signal to the Bronx, which would proceed to the southward, and then enter the Grand Pass by the deepest water.

"Where are the negro quarters of this plantation, Mike?" asked Mr. Pennant.

"Just west of the big house, sir," replied the Russian.

"I don't know exactly where we are now, Captain Passford," said the officer of the expedition.

"We lie about south of what Mike calls the big house, a mile and a half distant from it. Make the boat's course north north-west, and you will strike the shore about half way between the planter's house and the fort. But when you get near enough to see both of them, you can land where you think best," Christy explained.

The boat's crew had already lowered the first cutter into the water. The oars were muffled, for the chances were that no one in the vicinity of the plantation had discovered the presence of the Bronx, and it was not advisable to alarm the people. Vincent acted as cockswain of the boat, while the Russian, as most of the officers and men 315 insisted upon calling him, was seated in the stern sheets with the third lieutenant. The eight men at the oars formed the rest of the crew.

"I don't believe you will find many hands down here, Mr. Pennant," said Mike in a whisper.

"What do you mean by hands?" asked the officer.

"Laborers, niggers," replied the Russian.

"Why not?"

"I expect they have sent all the strong ones up to work on the fortifications."

"Shall we find no one at the negro quarters?" asked the lieutenant with interest.

"Only the women and the old hands, too old to do much work."

"Can you make out where you are, Mike?" inquired Mr. Pennant, after about half a mile had been made.

"I can just see the fort and the big house. It is not so very dark to-night," answered the Russian.

The course was believed to be correct for the point indicated by the captain, and in less than half an hour the boat grounded; but the shore was bold enough to enable the men to land. Mr. 316 Pennant went to the forward part of the boat and took a careful look all around him. All was as silent as a tomb. Stepping into the fore-sheets, he leaped on shore, directing the Russian to follow him.

"Vincent, you will remain in charge of the boat and the men," said the third lieutenant, addressing the quartermaster. "I will explore the island with Mike. I have the fireworks with me, and you will keep a sharp lookout in the direction of the fort. If you see a light close to the water, make for it as fast as you can. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly, Mr. Pennant."

"But you need not expect any signal for a couple of hours, or even three. If we get into trouble, we shall retreat upon the boat direct; so keep your eyes wide open."

The officer led the way up the shore, and the rows of sugar-cane extended almost to the water. They could make out the little village of negro cabins which lay between them and the planter's house, and they directed their steps towards it. It was but a short walk, and they soon reached the lane that extended between the rows of huts.

317 The lieutenant took his two revolvers from his hip pockets, and examined them as well as he could in the dark, and Mike did the same, for it was necessary to be prepared for whatever might happen. The village was as silent as though it were entirely deserted; but it was nearly midnight, and doubtless they were asleep in the cabins. They entered one. It was still and dark within the house. Mr. Pennant had brought with him a small lantern, which he lighted where the glare of the match could not be seen; but it revealed nothing to the inquirers.

Covering the lantern so that its light could not be seen, they followed the lane between the two rows of cabins for some distance farther, and then entered another. Like the first, it was deserted. They crossed to the other side of the avenue, where they saw some signs that the cabin was inhabited. Uncovering his lantern, Mr. Pennant threw the light upon the interior. It contained two beds, and each of them was occupied by two persons. In one were two silvered heads to be seen, while the other displayed two heads that appeared to belong to women.

"Shut the door, Mike," said the officer, in order to prevent the light from being seen.

318 "I think I know one of the old men," added the Russian as he returned from the door, "Shall I wake him up?"

"Yes; but don't frighten him," replied Mr. Pennant.

"Uncle Job," said Mike, placing his hand on the shoulder of the sleeper on the side of the bed nearest to him.

The head and hair of the old colored man were peculiar enough to enable the Russian to identify him if he had ever seen him even once before. His mouth was twisted to one side either naturally or by some injury, and his kinky hair made him look as though he carried a great bale of cotton on the top of his head. He opened his eyes when Mike shook him gently, and looked at the two men at the side of his bed with a wondering rather than an alarmed expression.

"Who dar?" inquired the negro.

"Good-morning, Uncle Job," replied Mike, taking the hand of the aged colored person. "How is your health?"

"Don't hab no healf, massa," replied Job, gazing earnestly at the intruder upon his slumbers.

"Don't you know me, Uncle Job?"

319 "'Pears like I do; I reckon you's Massa Cap'n Flanger."

"Not exactly; but I'm his man, Mike Bornhoff."

"Jes' so; you was born ob de debbil," replied the old negro, rising in his bed, and showing all his remaining teeth in an expansive smile.

"He remembers me," said Mike turning to the lieutenant. "We have struck the right man. But he don't mean that I am any wickeder than the rest of the world. I used to be called here by my last name, and Job invented the pun he has just used."

"Why do you say that we have struck the right man, Mike?" asked Mr. Pennant, caring little for the former relations of the two men.

"Because, though he don't look it, he is the best posted nigger in these parts. He is the wise man among his people, and a sort of leader among them, and fetich man besides."

"All right; get him up if you can. Is he able to walk?"

"He is as tough as a he-bear, and can walk a hundred miles on a stretch," replied Mike. "He knows everything that is going on in these times."

The lieutenant had covered his lantern, for he 320 did not wish to wake the other sleepers in the cabin, after the description the Russian had given of his man. Mike spoke in a low tone to him, and it did not take him long to make his toilet, for he slept just as he was clothed during the day. No one knew how old he was, but he was still brisk in his movements. The officer led the way to one of the deserted cabins at a considerable distance from the one occupied by Uncle Job.

No one was stirring in the vicinity, and the silence was as profound as death itself. Not a word was said till they reached the cabin the officer had selected, and when they had entered, he closed the door behind them. The lantern was unveiled, and the lieutenant seated himself upon a block of timber, of which there were several in the room.

"Now, Uncle Job, I want you to answer some questions," Mr. Pennant began.

"'Pose I don't answer 'em?" suggested the negro.

"Then I shall put you in irons, and take you on board of the steamer," added the officer sternly.

"De steamer! wot's de steamer? Is't a Yankee gumboat?" demanded Uncle Job, opening his eyes with wonder and astonishment.

321 "That's just what it is."

"Den I gib you all de answers you want," replied the negro with a cheerful smile. "Whar de gumboat?"

"She is off the shore not far from here. Now you will answer my questions. There is a fort here?"

"Yes, sar; ober dar," he replied, pointing to the west.

"How many men are there at the fort?"

"Only twenty, sar; all gone ober to New Orleans, sar."

"How many guns has it? I mean big guns, Uncle Job?"

"I done count only four ob dem w'en I was dar last time."

"Only four!" exclaimed Mr. Pennant. "Are you telling me the truth, Uncle Job?"

"I neber spoke noffin but the truf, Massa Ossifer."

"Are those four very large,—long as this cabin is wide?" asked the lieutenant with interest.

"No, sar!" exclaimed Job with energy.

"But they must have had very big guns."

"Yes, sar; but dey done tote 'em all ober to de Mis'sip Riber."

322 This seemed to be reasonable to the lieutenant, and in accordance with the belief of his superiors on board of the Bronx, for no Union man-of-war of any size could pass through the water courses to the great river. It looked as though the big guns had been replaced with those of smaller calibre.

Mr. Pennant put out the light in his lantern, and the party started to cross the island.

323 CHAPTER XXIX A PROFESSIONAL VISIT TO THE FORT

Mr. Pennant had some doubts about the correctness of the important information he had obtained, but he was at a loss to know how to verify it. It was a matter of course that sentinels patrolled the vicinity of the fort, or at least the principal approach to it. He decided to postpone his inquiry into this matter till a later hour of the night or morning.

"Whar you gwine, Massa Ossifer?" asked Uncle Job, after they had walked a short distance from the negro village.

"Over to the other side of the island," replied the lieutenant.

"Wot you gwine to do ober dar, massa?"

"I want to see what there is over there."

"Dis nigger kin told you wot dar is over dar."

"Well, what is there over there?"

"Dar's a steamer ober dar, an' I speck de Yankee 324 gumboat's gwine in dar to look arter dat steamer," said Uncle Job, chuckling as though he enjoyed the prospect of such an event. "Say, Massa Ossifer, is Massa Linkum in yore gumboat?"

"Not exactly; but she is well filled with his people," replied Mr. Pennant, laughing.

"I done wish dat Massa Linkum come down here hisself," added the venerable colored person.

"He can hardly spare the time to do that; his business is such that he cannot leave," replied the lieutenant, much amused at the simplicity of the negro. "Now tell me something more about this steamer in the bay. How big is she?"

"I can't told you 'zackly, massa; she as big as de fort."

"Where did she come from?" asked the lieutenant, who had more confidence in the honesty than in the intelligence of Job.

"I dunno, massa; but she done come in from de sea. When she git off dar two mile she

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