would like to hear, provided it was told by the young lady who sat in
front of him.
"She was of an independent turn of mind," said the Daughter of the
House, "and there were a great many things in this world which bored
her, not because they were uninteresting in themselves, but because she
could not enjoy them in the way which suited her. She had thought of
hundreds of things she would like to do if she only could do them in her
own way and without control by other people. She was very anxious to
perform deeds, noble deeds if possible, but she could not endure the
everlasting control which seems to be thought necessary in this
world--at least, for girls. The consequence of this was that she spent a
great deal of her time in doing things which made no imprint whatever
upon the progress of the world or upon the elevation of her own
character.
"Now it happened that at the time of my story there was a war in the
land, and a great many people with whom my heroine was acquainted went
forth to do battle for their country and their principles, or to act
patriotically in some other way than fighting. I forgot to say that my
heroine is named Almia--"
"De Ponsett, I suppose," interrupted John Gayther. "Almia de Ponsett is
the name of a beautiful new white tea-rose."
"Not at all," said the young lady, drawing her eyebrows slightly
together; "there is no 'de Ponsett' about it, and her name has nothing
to do with tea-roses. It is simply Almia. She grew more and more
dissatisfied every day the war went on. Everybody who was worth anything
was doing something, and here she was doing nothing. What was there she
could do? This became the great question of her life. If I were about to
write out this story I would say something here about the workings of
her mind; but that is not necessary now. But her mind worked a great
deal, and the end of it was that she determined to be a nurse. Nursing,
indeed, is the only thing a young woman can do in a war.
"But when she began to make inquiries about army nurses--what they ought
to do, how they ought to do it, and all that--she ran up against that
terrible bugbear of control. Everywhere was control, control, control;
and she really began to despair. There were examinations, and training,
and applications to the surgeon-general, and to the assistant surgeon,
and to special heads of departments and districts and States and
counties, for all I know. There was positively no end to the things she
would have to do to get a regular appointment to go forth and do her
duty to her country. So she threw up the whole business of regular army
nursing, and made up her mind to go out into the field of duty to which
she had appointed herself, and do the things she ought to do in the way
she thought they ought to be done. She likened herself to the knights of
old who used to go forth to fight for their ladies and for the upholding
of chivalry. She wanted to be a sort of a free-lance, but she did not
want to hire herself to anybody. She did not fancy being anything like a
guerilla, and then it suddenly struck her that if she did just as she
wanted to do she would resemble a bushwhacker more than anything else. A
bushwhacker is an honest man. When there is no war he whacks bushes,
that is, he cuts them down; and when there is a war--"
"He whacks the enemy," suggested John Gayther.
The Daughter of the House smiled a little. "Yes," she said; "he tries to
do that. But he is entirely independent; he is under nobody; and that
suited Almia. A bushwhacker nurse was exactly what she wanted to be, and
as soon as this was settled she made all her preparations to go to the
war."
"Of course," said John Gayther, "the young lady's parents--or perhaps
she did not have any parents?"
The Daughter of the House frowned. "Now, John," said she, "I don't want
anything said about parents. There were no parents in this case, at
least none to be considered. I don't say whether they were dead or not,
but the story has nothing to do with them. Parents would be very
embarrassing, and I don't want to stop to bother with them."
John Gayther nodded his head as if he thought she was quite right, and
she went on:
"The first thing Almia did was to fit herself out after the fashion she
thought best adapted to a bushwhacker nurse. She wore heavy boots, and a
bicycle-skirt which just came to the top of the boots; and in this skirt
she put ever so many pockets. She wore a little cap with a strap to go
under the chin; and from her belt on the left side she hung a very
little cask, which she happened to have, something like those carried by
the St. Bernard dogs in Switzerland when they go to look for lost
travellers; and this she filled with brandy. In her pockets she put
every kind of thing that wounded men might want: adhesive plaster, raw
cotton, bandages, some pieces of heavy pasteboard to make splints,
needles and fine silk for sewing up cuts, and a good many other things
suitable for wounded people. And in the right-hand pocket of her skirt
she carried a pistol with five barrels."
"My conscience!" exclaimed John Gayther, "that was dangerous. And then,
you know, nurses hardly ever carry pistols."
"But this was necessary," said she, "as you will see as the story goes
on. Then, when she put on a long waterproof cloak which covered
everything, she was ready to go to the war."
John Gayther looked at the Daughter of the House steadfastly and
wondered if the Almia of the story had cut off her beautiful hair. He
was sure she had had an abundance of light silvery-golden hair which
fluffed itself all about her head under her wide hat, and it would be a
sort of shock to think of its being cut off. But he asked no questions;
he did not want to interrupt too much.
"Almia knew by the papers," continued the Daughter of the House, "that
a great battle was expected to take place not far from a town at some
distance from her home; and she went to this town by rail, carrying
only a small hand-bag in addition to the things she wore under her
waterproof. She took lodgings at a hotel, and, after an early breakfast
the next morning, she hired a cab to take her out to the battle-field.
The cabman drove her several miles into the country, but when he heard
the booming of the preliminary cannon with which the battle was then
opening, he refused to go any farther, and she was obliged to get out
at the corner of a lane and the highroad. She paid the man his fare and
gave him five dollars extra, and then she engaged him to call at that
place for her at eight o'clock that evening. She was sure the battle
would be over by that time, as it would be beginning to get dark. The
cabman was sorry to leave her there to walk the rest of the way, but his
horse was afraid of cannon, and he did not dare to go any farther.
"Almia took off her waterproof and left it in the cab, and the cabman
was a good deal astonished when he saw her without it. He said he
supposed she was a reporter and that the little cask was full of ink;
he had driven lady reporters about before this. But Almia told him she
was a nurse, and that he must not fail to call for her at the time
appointed. Then he drove away; and she walked rapidly along the lane,
which seemed to lead toward the battle-field. The lane soon began to
curve, and she left it and walked across several fields. Soon she came
to some outposts, where the sentries wanted to know where she was going.
Of course the sentries behind an army are not as strict as those in
front of it, and so when she informed them she was a nurse they told her
how to get to the field-hospital, which was a mile or more away.
"But Almia did not intend to go to any hospital. She knew if she did she
would immediately be put under orders; and now her blood was up, and she
could stand no orders. She thought she perceived a faint smell of powder
in the air. This made her feel wonderfully independent, and she strode
onward with a light and fearless step. But when she came to a bosky
copse which concealed her from the sentries, she turned away from the
direction of the hospital, and pressed onward toward the point from
which came the heaviest sound of cannon.
"Now you must understand, John Gayther," remarked the Daughter of the
House, taking off her broad hat, that the breeze might more freely blow
through the masses of her silvery-golden hair, "that when people who are
really in earnest, especially people in fiction, go forth to find things
they want, they generally find them. And if it is highly desirable that
these things should be out of the common they are out of the common. A
great deal of what happens in real life, and almost everything in
literature, depends on this principle. You, of course, comprehend this,
because you compose stories yourself."
"Oh, yes," said the gardener; "I comprehend it perfectly."
"I say all this on account of what is about to happen in this story, and
also because I don't want you to make any objection in your mind on
account of its not being exactly according to present usages. Almia was
pushing steadily through the clump of bushes when she heard, not far
away, the clash of arms. Greatly excited, she silently moved on, and
peeping out from behind some foliage, she saw in a small open space in
the woods two men engaged in single combat. How her heart did beat! She
was frightened nearly to death. But she did not think of flight; her
eyes were glued upon the fascinating spectacle before her. Often had she
heard of two brave swordsmen fighting each other to the bitter end, and
often had she dreamed of these noble contests; but her eyes were all
unfamiliar with such inspiring sights. This truly was war.
"The combatants were both moderately young men, athletic and active, one
with brown hair and the other with black. They had thrown aside their
coats and vests, and each wore a broad leathern belt. Fiercely and
swiftly their long swords clashed. Sparks flew, and the ring of the
steel sounded far into the woods; but there was none to hear save Almia
only, and her soul tingled with admiration and terror as the bright
blades flashed against the background of semi-gloom which pervaded the
woods. She scarcely breathed. Her whole soul was in her eyes."
"I have seen it there before," thought John Gayther, but he said
nothing.
"Now there was a tremendous onset from each swordsman, and the ground
echoed beneath their rapid footfalls as they stamped around. Then there
was a lunge and a sharp nerve-tingling scrape as one blade ran along the
other; and then, without a groan, down fell one of these brave warriors
flat upon his back upon the grass, the wild flowers, and bits of bark.
Instantly the impulses of a woman flashed through every vein and nerve
of that onlooking girl. Scarcely had the tall form of the soldier
touched the sod when she became a nurse. Springing out from her leafy
concealment, she knelt beside the vanquished form of the fallen man. The
other soldier, who was about to rest himself by leaning on his sword,
sprang back; it seemed as though there had suddenly appeared before him
a being from another world."
"Where they wear bicycle-skirts," thought John Gayther.
"Every trace of enthusiastic excitement had passed away from Almia, who
now had something in this world to do, and who set about doing it
without loss of a second. The man was only wounded, for he opened his
eyes and said so, and drawing up his shirt-sleeve he showed Almia that
the cut was in the lower part of his left arm. Instantly despatching the
other soldier to a neighboring spring for water, she cleansed the wound,
and, finding it was not very deep, she drew the edges of the cut
together and held them in place with strips of adhesive plaster. When
this had been done she wrapped the arm in several folds of bandage, and
the man having risen to a sitting posture, she gave him a small draught
of brandy from her cask.
"Almia now explained how she happened to appear upon the scene, and,
addressing the wounded man, she said she hoped she could soon find some
way of conveying him to a hospital. 'Hospital!' he cried, springing to
his feet under the revivifying influence of the brandy. 'No hospital for
me! I can walk as well as anybody. And now, sir,' he said, speaking to
his former opponent, 'am I to consider myself vanquished, and am I to go
with you as your prisoner?' The other regarded him without answering,
and for the moment Almia, too, was lost in reflection."
At this point John Gayther, who had been in wars, began to wonder, even
if soldiers in these days should engage in single combat with long
swords, how one of them could be wounded in the left arm; but he did not
interrupt the story.
"The first thing that shaped itself clearly in Almia's mind was the fear
of being left alone in these woods. Now that she was so near the edge of
the battle, there was no knowing what she might meet with next. The
soldier who had conquered now spoke. 'Yes, sir,' said he; 'you are my
prisoner, and it is my duty to take you to my regiment and deliver you
to my officers. I am sorry to do so, but such are the laws of war.' The
other soldier bowed his head, simply remarking, 'Proceed; I will follow
you.'"
"If I should take a prisoner," thought John Gayther, "I should make him
walk in front of me."
"Then Almia stepped forward; she had made up her mind, and she was very
resolute. 'Gentlemen,' said she, 'this cannot be. We are nearing the
contending forces; there may be stragglers; and I do not wish to be left
alone. You are both my prisoners.' The two soldiers looked at her in
utter amazement. 'Yes,' said Almia, firmly; 'I mean what I say. I am, it
is true, a nurse; but I am a bushwhacker nurse, perfectly independent,
and free to act according to the dictates of my judgment. You are my
prisoners; and if one of you attempts to escape it will be the duty of
the other to assist in arresting his enemy. Do not smile; I am armed.'
And with this she took from her pocket the pistol with the five barrels.
The two soldiers stopped smiling. 'Yes,' continued Almia; 'I would not
wish to do anything of the kind, but if either of you attempts to escape
I will call upon him to halt, and if he does not do it I will fire upon
his legs while the other soldier attacks him with his sword. You are
enemies, and each one of you is bound by his soldiery oaths to prevent
the escape of the other. I am absolutely impartial. If either of you
should be wounded I would dress his wounds and nurse him carefully
without asking to which side he belongs. But if either of you attempts
to escape I will, as I said, fire at his legs without asking to which
side he belongs.'
"The soldier with the brown hair looked at the one with the black hair.
'If I should attempt to escape,' said he, 'would you assist this lady in
restraining me?' 'I would,' answered the other. 'Then I would do the
same by you,' said the first speaker. 'Miss, I am your prisoner.' 'And I
also,' said the black-haired soldier."
"Well, well," said John Gayther, who had not cut a pea-stick for the
last fifteen minutes; "I suppose you could not tell by their uniforms
which one of them belonged to your side--I mean the young lady could not
tell?"
"Almia had no side," replied the Daughter of the House, "and the
soldiers wore no coats, for they had thrown them aside in the heat of
the combat; and she purposely took no note whatever of their trousers.
She was determined to be absolutely impartial. 'Now, then,' said Almia
to her prisoners, 'I am going to get just as close to the battle as I
can. I am delighted to have you with me, not only because you can remove
wounded prisoners to shady places where I can nurse them, but because
you will be a protection to me. Should an unruly soldier appear from
either army he will always be met by an enemy and by me.'
"The three now pressed on, for there was no time to lose. The roar of
the battle was increasing; reports of musketry as well as cannon rent
the air, and the sharp whistling of rifle-balls could frequently be
heard. Reaching a wood road, they followed this for some distance, Almia
in advance, when suddenly they came upon a man sitting on the trunk of a
fallen tree. He had a little blank-book in his hand, and apparently he
was making calculations in it with a lead-pencil. At the sound of
approaching footsteps he rose to his feet, still holding the open book
in his hand. He was a moderately tall man, a little round-shouldered,
and about fifty years old. He wore a soldier's hat and coat, but his
clothes were so covered with dust it was impossible to perceive to which
army he belonged. He had a bushy beard, and that was also very dusty. He
wore spectacles, and had a very pleasant smile, and looked from one to
the other of the new-comers with much interest. 'I hope,' said he,
speaking to the soldiers, 'that this young woman is not your prisoner.'
'No, sir,' said Almia, before the others had time to reply; 'they are my
prisoners.' The dusty man looked at her in amazement. 'Yes,' said the
man with the black hair; 'she speaks the truth. We are her prisoners.'
"Rapidly Almia explained the situation, and when she had finished, the
stranger nodded his head three or four times, and put his blank-book in
his pocket. 'Well, well, well,' said he, 'this is what might be expected
from the tendency of the times! There are sixteen thousand two hundred
and forty more women than men in this State, and many of them are single
and have to do something. But a bushwhacker nurse! Truly I never thought
of anything like that!'
"'And you?' asked Almia. 'I think it is right that you should give some
account of yourself. I do not ask your name, nor do I wish to know which
cause you have espoused. But as you appear to be a soldier I am curious
to know how you happen to be sitting by the roadside making
calculations.' 'I am a soldier,' answered the dusty man, 'but, under
the circumstances,'--regarding very closely the trousers of Almia's two
companions,--'I am very glad you do not want to know to which side I
belong. The facts of the case are these: I am an Exceptional Pedestrian.
I am also a very earnest student of social aspects considered in their
relation to topography. Yesterday, when my army halted at noon, I set
out to make some investigations in connection with my favorite research,
and when I returned, much later than I expected, my army had gone on,
and I have not yet been able to come up to it, although I have walked a
great many miles.'
"'I should say,' remarked the soldier with the black hair, 'that you are
a deserter.' 'No,' replied the Exceptional Pedestrian, 'I did not desert
my army; it deserted me. And now I wish to say that I have become very
much interested in you all, and, if there is no objection, I should like
to join your company for the present.' 'I have no objection myself,'
said Almia, 'but what do you say?' she asked, addressing the two
soldiers. 'I am afraid, miss,' replied the man with the brown hair, who
had recognized some peculiarities in the fashion of the stranger's dusty
clothes, 'that if he attempted to leave us I would be obliged to shoot
him as a deserter.' 'And I,' said the other, 'would be obliged to do the
same thing, because he is my enemy.' 'Under these circumstances,' said
the Exceptional Pedestrian, 'I beg to insist that I be allowed to attach
myself to your party.'
"Almia felt she had reason to be proud. Here were three military men who
were in her power, and who could not get away from her. They were like
three mice tied together by the tails, each pulling in a different
direction and all remaining in the place where they had been dropped.
"The party now pushed forward toward the battle's edge. 'If glory is
your object,' said the Exceptional Pedestrian to Almia, 'it would have
been better if you had joined a regular corps of nurses. Then any
meritorious action on your part would have been noted and reported to
the authorities, and your good conduct would have been recognized. But
now you can expect nothing of the kind.' 'I did not come for the sake of
glory,' said Almia, flushing slightly; 'I came to succor the suffering,
and to do it without trammels.'
"'Trammels are often very desirable,' said he; 'they enable us to
proceed to a greater distance along the path of duty than we would be
apt to go if we could wander as we please from side to side.'
"Almia was about to reply somewhat sharply to this remark when,
suddenly, they heard a sound which made their nerves tingle. It was the
clang of sabres and the thunder of countless hoofs. They were in a mass
of tangled underbrush, and they peeped out into a wide roadway and
beheld the approach of a regiment of cavalry. On came this tidal wave of
noble horsemen; it reached the spot where Almia's burning eyes glowed
through the crevices of the foliage. Wildly galloping, cavalryman after
cavalryman passed her by. The eyes of the horses flashed fire, and their
nostrils were widely distended as if they smelt the battle from afar.
Their powerful necks were curved; their hoofs spurned the echoing earth;
and their riders, with flashing blades waved high above their heads,
shouted aloud their battle-cry, while their tall plumes floated madly
in the surging air. And, above the thunder of the hoofs, and the
clinking and the clanking of the bits and chains, and the creaking of
their leathern saddles, rose high the clarion voice of their leader,
urging them on to victory or to death.
"Almia had never been so excited in her life; she could scarcely
breathe. This was the grandeur of glorious war! Oh, how willingly would
she have mounted a fleet steed and have followed those valiant horsemen
as they thundered away into the distance!"
John Gayther had seen many a body of cavalry on the march, but he had
never beheld anything like this.
"After her excitement Almia felt somewhat weak; she needed food; and
when they had crossed the roadway they stopped to rest under the shade
of a spreading oak. Unfortunately the soldiers had brought no rations
with them, and Almia had only some Albert biscuit, which she did not
wish to eat because she had brought them to relieve the faintness of
some wounded soldier. 'If you will permit us,' said the soldier with the
black hair, 'we two will go out and forage. Each of us will see to it
that the other returns.'
"While they were gone the Exceptional Pedestrian conversed with Almia.
'During my investigations of the social aspects of this region,' he
said, 'I put many miles between myself and the army to which I belong,
but by closely adhering to certain geological and topographical
principles I knew I should eventually find it. In fact, when you met
with me I was making some final calculations which would not fail to
show me where I should find my comrades. There is no better way to
discover the position of an army than by observing the inclination of
the geological strata. In this section, for instance, the general trend
of the beds of limestone and quartz indicates the direction of the
running streams, and these naturally flow into the valleys and plains,
and the land, being well watered, is more fertile; consequently it was
soonest cleared by the settlers, while the higher ground surrounding it
is still encumbered by timber growth. An army naturally desires open
ground for its operations, for large bodies of cavalry and artillery
cannot deploy to advantage through wooded districts. Therefore, if we
follow this roadway, which, as you see, slightly descends to the
northeast, we shall soon come within sight of the opposing forces.'
"'But,' said Almia, 'the roar of the battle comes over from that way,
which must be the northwest.'
"'That may be,' said the Exceptional Pedestrian, 'but the principle
remains.'