A Rebellion in Dixie by Harry Castlemon (book recommendations for teens .TXT) 📖

id='Page_354'>354after a fashion, and they were waiting until the rebels were all gathered up, when they would go on to Ellisville and be placed under the care of the doctor. Leon gave his horse the rein and rode up and accosted Dan.

“Well, old fellow, I am sorry to see you in this fix,” said he.

“Yes, no doubt you are glad of it,” whined Dan, moving his wounded arm to a better place.

“I am, really. I was in hopes that you and I would come together again, and I wanted you to see that you couldn’t take me down as easy as you did before. You handled me as easy as though I wasn’t there.”

“I can do it all the time,” replied Dan, snappishly, for just then his arm pained him and he moved it to another position. “I can get away with you the best day you ever saw.”

“Oh, it is very easy for you to talk that way now, but if you had two good arms I would try you right here.”

“Say, Leon, what do you reckon those fellows will do with us after they get us to Ellisville?” said Cale, speaking with difficulty.

355“I am sure I don’t know. If I had my way with you I would send you among the rebels, with orders not to come back. You talk of the rebels as ‘our men,’ and you belong with them.”

“I guess you’ll stretch hemp,” said the man who was acting as sentry over them.

“I hope they won’t go that far, but I don’t know,” said Leon, as he turned his horse about and started for Ellisville.

It was getting dark by this time, but all the way Leon saw some signs of the fight. Here was a dead rebel who had been shot during the retreat, and who had fallen in the middle of the road, and he had been moved out on one side and his body covered with a blanket. A little further on he came across a wagon which was loaded with wounded Confederates, and the Union men all greeted him as though they were glad to see him. There was one thing about it, if there was any faith to be put in what the men said to him: His father had been in a constant worry ever since he failed to show up at Newman’s house, and he became so satisfied that Newman was 356to blame for his capture—for Mr. Sprague knew that somebody had made a prisoner of him—that he sent a squad of men back to the house and placed them all in custody. Finally Leon came up to the place where the slaughter had taken effect when the Confederates got ready to make their charge, and he shuddered when he looked at it. The rebels and their horses had fallen together in a heap until they were piled on top of one another. The Union men had not got through removing them yet.

“By gracious, if those rebels could come up here from Mobile and see what I have seen to-day, I’ll bet they would give up trying to conquer us,” said Leon, as he once more gave his horse the rein and drew up before the hotel porch. “I didn’t suppose that a battle ended in that way. I thought the dead and wounded were scattered all around, and that you had to hunt a long time before you found them, but—I never want to see another fight.”

The hotel porch was empty when he got there, but a little way up toward the grove he 357saw a company of Confederates, all huddled together, and Union men were keeping guard over them. They were waiting there until their paroles could be made out. You see they had no printing-press in Jones county, and everything like this had to be made out by hand. He went up into the President’s room, and there he found as many men as could find seats at the table engaged in writing. Some of the prisoners were there to assist them.

“The way we do this,” said Mr. Knight, addressing himself to the captain who had last commanded the regiment (by the way, he was wounded, too, for a handkerchief that was wet with blood was tied around his forehead)—“the way we do this is all owing to you rebels alone. You have not hung any of our men yet; indeed, I don’t know that you have had a chance, but if you had hung any of them, we should pick out as many men as had been executed and hang them to the nearest tree. We want you to understand that these paroles are matters of life and death with you. If you go into battle against us without 358being exchanged, and we capture you, you can expect nothing but death. I think you have found out, by the way that cavalry charged upon us, that we know how to fight. How many men had you to go back to Mobile?”

“Well, sir, I should say about two hundred.”

“And how many had you in the first place?”

“We marched up here to assault you with eleven hundred men, sir.”

“And only two hundred escaped! That’s doing pretty good work.”

Leon was astonished when he found out that so small a number of Confederates had got away, and then, seeing that the conversation between the President and the rebel captain had ceased, he began looking around for his father. He found him at last sitting at a table in a remote corner of the room, and walked up and placed his hand upon his shoulder. Mr. Sprague looked up, and finding Leon’s face beaming down upon him, put his pen in his mouth and extended his hand.

“Halloo, Leon; you have got back, haven’t you?” he exclaimed; and for the first time in 359his life he saw his father’s eyes filled with tears.

“Yes, sir, I have got back. Where’s Mr. Smith?”

“Mr. Smith has got his death-wound, I am afraid,” said his father, looking down at the paper on which he was writing with a most gloomy expression. “He wants to see you bad, and I would advise you to go down to him at once. You will find him in the parlor, lying on the sofa.”

Leon waited to hear no more, but worked his way through the men toward the door, stopping to shake hands with this one, or to give a bow and a smile to another, and presently found himself in the parlor. The doctor was there and bending over the wounded man, and so was a distant relative of his, who seemed determined that the doctor should not exchange any words with Mr. Smith without he could hear them. Leon had never liked that man, Leonard Smith. It is true that he had never worked for his father, nor for Mr. Smith, either, for there was something about him that neither of the gentlemen approved 360of. He was constantly telling around that he was going to have a lot of money one of these days, and nobody knew where he was going to get it. Mr. Smith had a little, just how much no one knew, and it was very clear to everyone that Leonard Smith wouldn’t get any of it when he got done with it. Mr. Smith had often been heard to declare:

“I’ll never help a man who is too lazy to help himself. What does that Leonard Smith do to earn his living? He works at the logs about half the time, and the balance he spends in visiting me. I have often told him to go to work, but he won’t do it. He is a sort of second cousin to me, but all the same he has no claim on me.”

When Leon came into the parlor Mr. Smith turned his head and saw him. With more strength than a person of his injuries would be likely to show he thrust out his hand and welcomed him in his cheery way.

“Why, Leon, where have you been?” exclaimed the wounded man. “Come here and tell me all about it. Now, doctor, I can get along without any more help until I get 361through with Leon. Take everybody out of the room.”

The only person in the room besides the doctor and Leon was this Leonard Smith, and he didn’t seem inclined to move. He walked back toward the foot of the sofa and leaned upon it, and there he seemed determined to stay.

“I want you to go, too,” said Mr. Smith, in angry tones. “Take him out with you, doctor.”

“I guess I had better stay here,” said Leonard. “You might want me to hand you your water or something.”

“I reckon this man I have got here is enough to hand me my water or anything else,” retorted Mr. Smith. “Doctor, I want to see Leon about something particular, and I would thank you to take that fellow out of the room. I haven’t got but a short time to live—”

“Come, now, Leonard, go out of the room,” said the doctor.

Leonard waited a moment, just long enough to cast a glance of mingled hate and rage 362upon Mr. Smith and Leon, and then went out, banging the door after him.

“That’s all right,” said Mr. Smith. “Now, lock the door. It will take not more than a minute, but what little I do say I want to reach your ears, and your ears alone. Pull up a chair and sit down.”

Leon complied. He fastened the door, and then drew a chair close to the wounded man’s side and leaned over him.