LUCIUS BRINGS THE BOAT ASHORE.
For a moment Ephraim was, as he would himself have expressed it, ‘sot
back,’ but he was not one to remain so long, and seizing his rifle, he
grasped it by the barrel, and using the butt as a paddle, endeavoured to
guide the course of the boat.
‘Quick, Luce!’ he exclaimed. ‘Take yourn, and we’ll see what kin be
done. The pesky Yank! Of co’se he’d hid the oars somewhar in the bresh,
so as nobody could steal his boat. By time! What an or’nery fool I war
not ter hev thort er thet before.’
‘No; it was I who was the fool,’ corrected Lucius, labouring away with
his makeshift oar. ‘You had quite enough to do with the letter and the
rifles. I should have looked to see if everything was right.’
‘Waal, thar’s a pair of us, then, ef ye will hev it so,’ returned
Ephraim gloomily. ‘Ennyway, it don’t matter a corn cob now whose fault
it war. The mischief’s done. I wouldn’t so much keer,’ he added, beating
the water furiously with his rifle-butt, ‘on’y when that clever captain
comes back and finds the oars whar he left ’em, he’ll nat’ally know we
must be down stream, and they won’t be long gittin’ on our trail.’
Twilight was fast settling over the valley; for the high mountains which
surrounded the cup of land in which this living drama was being enacted,
effectually shut out the sun as the day declined, and Lucius remarked
hopefully that it would soon be dark.
‘It’ll not be so dark ez all thet comes ter on a June night,’ responded
Ephraim in a cheerless tone. ‘Thar’ll be plenty er light fer them ter
take potshots et us ez we drift along. Yit it ain’t so much fer thet I’m
keerin’. I’m thinkin’ er the despatch and the importance it ’ud be ter
old Stonewall ter git it before mornin’.—I’m afraid we ain’t doin’ much
good with the guns, Luce.’
The crafty captain had removed not only the oars but the rowlocks, and
consequently they had no support for their extemporised oars, but were
obliged to paddle with them Indian fashion, holding the barrel high and
sweeping the butt through the water on either side of the boat. But the
rounded, highly polished wood offered little resistance to the rushing
stream, and the current swept them steadily down, all their efforts to
turn the boat’s head proving ineffectual.
‘We’ll make the Potomac at this rate, ef we go on long enough,’ said
Ephraim grimly, the sweat pouring off his face as he strove desperately
with his clumsy implement; ‘and then all we hev ter do is ter float
gracefully down and give ’em howdy in Washin’ton city.’ He laughed in
the very bitterness of his spirit.
They were swirling along only about twenty yards from the south bank;
but as Ephraim remarked, they might as well have been a mile away, for
by no possibility could they reach it, and he looked longingly at the
boughs that dipped into the rushing waters, thinking how different
matters would be if only he could lay hold of them.
Suddenly there was a spurt of flame, followed instantly by a loud crack.
Ephraim’s cap soared into the air, mounted for a moment and then fell
with a dull splash into the river, while its owner, with a shrill yell,
tumbled over into the bottom of the boat.
As Ephraim fell, his gun slipped from his nerveless fingers and sank
instantly out of sight, and Lucius, hastily drawing his on board, bent
terror-stricken over his friend.
‘Oh, Grizzly!’ he cried in piteous tones. ‘What is the matter? Are you
shot?’
An inarticulate gurgle from Ephraim was the only reply.
‘Speak to me!’ Lucius almost shrieked. ‘Oh! oh! Surely you are not
killed. Speak to me, Grizzly! Speak to me! Oh! oh! Whatever shall I do?’
Thus adjured, Ephraim slowly opened his eyes and looking up into the
anxious face bent over him, remarked quaintly, though without the least
intention of being humorous: ‘Hello, Luce! Is thar a hole right through
my head, or what?’
So great was his relief that Lucius broke into a joyous laugh.
‘Grizzly,’ he demanded with mock severity, ‘if you were not shot, what
did you mean by tumbling over; and if you are not killed, what are you
lying in the bottom of the boat for?’
‘Ye may say thet, Luce,’ returned Ephraim, uncoiling his long length and
struggling into a sitting posture. ‘It war a mighty close thing, I
reckon. Look at thet.’
He lifted his face as he spoke, and Lucius, with an exclamation of
dismay, saw that his forehead was blackened with powder, and that one of
his eyebrows and part of his front hair were singed off.
‘Ye see,’ said Ephraim, gingerly touching the raw and tender skin, ‘a
leetle more and ye’d hev had ter steer yer way home alone. I reckon it’s
a powerful frightenin’ sort er thing, a gun bustin’ off et ye when ye
least expect it.’
‘But what happened?’ asked Lucius. ‘I wasn’t looking. That is, I looked
up in time to see your cap go off and the gun slip out of your hand. The
next I knew you were on your back.’ He gripped Grizzly’s hand and added
earnestly: ‘I’m so glad you weren’t killed, old Grizzly.’
‘I’m obleeged ter ye,’ answered Ephraim, still very white about the
lips. ‘So am I.’ His voice shook a little as he tried to explain the
matter to his comrade. ‘Ye see,’ he went on, ‘this is how I put it up.
Ez I war splashin’ around with the gun-butt in the water, the trigger
must hev got caught, or the hammer drawn back by a bolt and let go agen.
The next thing I knowed war a rush er blindin’ light past my eyes, a
wave like the breath er a bit of iron from a blacksmith’s furnace on my
forehead, and thet’s all. I went down et thet, and didn’t feel like
stoppin’ ter arsk questions.’
‘Was that the way of it?’ said Lucius. ‘At first I thought that somebody
had fired at you from the bank.’
‘By time!’ exclaimed Ephraim, the colour rushing back into his face, and
his nerves steeling again as he heard this. ‘I tell ye, bub, that’s
ezackly what they will be doin’ before very long. Why, don’t ye know,
the sound er that rifle-shot’ll bring the Yanks down on us quicker ’n
ennything. Luce, we must do suthin’.’
‘What are we to do?’ asked Lucius helplessly. ‘If we could not manage
the boat when we had both guns, what shall we do now that we have only
one?’
‘Waal, then,’ inquired Ephraim drily, ‘do ye want ter set still hyar
while the Yanks make a target er ye? I tell ye I don’t feel that way
myself.’ He made a wry face at the thought of his recent experience.
‘I don’t either, you may be sure,’ answered Lucius. ‘But something must
be done.—I have it, Grizzly; I have it.’
‘What hev ye struck?’ queried Ephraim, roused by the hope in his voice.
‘Why, of course,’ replied Lucius, ‘let us swim ashore and leave the ugly
old boat to take care of herself.’
‘Bullee!’ cried Ephraim, unbuckling his cartridge belt and flinging it
into the bottom of the boat. ‘Bullee! So we will. Let’s——Thar’s just one
thing agin it, though, Luce,’ he broke off dismally.
‘What’s that?’ demanded Lucius, who had already removed his belts and
taken off his coat. ‘What’s against it?’
‘Why,’ answered Ephraim, looking as shamefaced as if he had been
confessing to a grievous sin, ‘it ain’t much, maybe; but I reckon it’s
enuff. I can’t swim.’
At this plain statement of an unpleasant fact, Lucius looked aghast.
‘Why, of course you can’t,’ he said. ‘I’d forgotten that.’ Then
recovering himself, he added cheerily: ‘Well, never mind, Grizzly; I’ll
do the swimming. You just grab me lightly round the back and kick out
well behind, and I’ll get you there. Tisn’t far.’
Ephraim shook his head. ‘It isn’t ez fur ez all thet, Luce, I ’low,’ he
said; ‘but thar’s a tur’ble strong current. Ef I drew ye under by my
weight and felt myself drownin’, I might ketch hold on ye and drown ye
ez well. A man couldn’t well know what he war about in sarkumstances
like thet, ye see. So I’m obleeged ter ye fer thinkin’ er it; but ef
it’s all the same, I’d ruther not resk it.’
‘There’s no risk,’ urged Lucius. ‘All you have to do is to hold on
tight.’ But Ephraim was obdurate.
‘Well, what are we to do, then?’ asked Lucius disconsolately. ‘Every
minute is precious.’
‘I know thet,’ answered Ephraim, ‘and the best thing ter be done is
this. Ye swim ashore ez soon ez ye kin. I’ll drift on in the boat, and
maybe it’ll be dark afore they find me, and I may run agin a spit or
suthin,’ and so git ashore. Thar’s no use lettin’ ’em cotch the two er
us. Now, is thar?’ But he looked down as he made the suggestion.
‘I don’t wonder you are ashamed of yourself to propose such a
disgraceful thing,’ cried Lucius indignantly. ‘To think for a moment
that I would leave you in the lurch just on the chance of saving my own
skin, after all you’ve done for me. Oh, Grizzly, what a shame to suppose
I would do it!’
‘I didn’t think ye’d do it, Luce,’ mumbled Ephraim, looking a very
crestfallen Grizzly indeed. ‘On’y I thort’——
‘I don’t want to hear what you thought,’ interrupted Lucius, who was
undressing himself while he talked. ‘I’ve made up my mind what to do,
and I’m going to do it. So there.’
‘What mought thet be?’ inquired Ephraim, eyeing him curiously.
‘I’ll show you fast enough,’ answered Lucius, now stripped to his shirt.
‘If you are afraid to trust yourself in the water along with me’——
‘Fer fear of drownin’ ye, Luce; fer fear of drownin ye,’ put in Ephraim
deprecatingly.
‘Of course. What else? I didn’t suppose you were thinking of yourself.
I’ve had teaching enough to know that’s not your way. If you’re afraid
of drowning me, then there’s only one thing to be done—I must swim
ashore myself and tow the boat after me, with you in it.’
‘See hyar,’ began Ephraim, but Lucius cut him short.
‘Come on, now. Don’t waste time in talking. Fasten the painter round me.
You can tie a better knot than I can.’
‘It’ll hurt ye monstrous, Luce,’ said Ephraim.
‘Nonsense! It will not hurt at all, tied around my shirt; and if it
should, what matter? It’s better than being shot, I should say. Oh, do
be quick! Don’t you see this gives the best chance to both of us to get
off scot-free? Tie it tight now. Don’t be afraid.’
Under this incessant urging, Ephraim fastened the rope round Lucius with
fingers that trembled a good deal from excitement and apprehensions for
the safety of his young comrade. But at last it was done, and Lucius
turned and faced him.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘you can see that the current is very strong by the rate
at which we are travelling. We are not far off the shore; but it may
take a long time to get there. I think that I can do it, though; but if
not, if I call out to you, or if I should sink, haul me on board again.
That’s all you have to do, besides helping as much as you can with the
butt of my rifle.’
‘I wish ye wouldn’t, Luce,’ implored Ephraim. ‘The light is goin’ fast,
and thar’s no rumpus yit, ez fur ez I kin hear. Ef we hev good luck,
they’ll miss us altogether. But ef they come and pop at ye while ye’re
in the water’——
‘Pooh!’ interrupted Lucius, ‘I shall be all right. Just you keep a sharp
lookout along the bank, and be ready to haul me in if necessary.
Good-bye! I’m off!’ He waved his hand, and slipped noiselessly off the
gunwale of the boat, feet foremost, into the river.
Meantime a very different scene was being enacted at the Federal camp.
Hardly had General Shields informed himself that the scare created by
the boys was a false one, and that he had at present nothing to fear
from the dreaded and ubiquitous Jackson, than his attention was arrested
by the sudden appearance of his ‘admirable civilian,’ Captain Hopkins,
who with disordered dress, flushed features, and breathless from
running, rushed unceremoniously into the presence of his commanding
officer.
‘Captain Hopkins!’ exclaimed General Shields in astonishment. ‘Back
already. Why, you’ve been gone little more than an hour.’ Then as his
eye fell upon the captain’s untidy dress and general look of
tribulation, he added anxiously: ‘There is nothing wrong, is there?’
‘The despatch!’ panted Hopkins. ‘I ‘——
‘Don’t tell me anything has happened to that,’ interrupted Shields
vehemently. ‘Surely not. Surely not.’
‘No,’ got out the captain between his struggles for breath; ‘only a
leather-headed sentry—a question of identity—won’t let me pass—send some
one back with me.’
‘Take time to breathe, sir, and you will be better able to explain
yourself,’ fumed General Shields, adding inconsistently: ‘Go on, sir.
Don’t keep me waiting all day. Let me hear your news.’
The captain drew a few deep inspirations and felt better. ‘General,’ he
said, ‘there is nothing wrong; only a little provoking delay. I found a
sentry just about where I had moored my boat, and because I was in
civilian dress, he refused to allow me to pass.’
‘Found a sentry alongside your boat!’ repeated General Shields. ‘I
thought you had moored it well above the line.’
‘So I thought myself, sir,’ answered Hopkins; ‘but evidently I was in
error, for there the sentry was.’
‘But you had the word,’ said Shields in a puzzled voice.
‘Of course, sir; but I’m afraid I behaved rather foolishly, for, having
an idea that all was not right, I gave the wrong word, and that made the
fellow so suspicious of me, that even when I gave him the right word
afterwards, he would have none of me.’
‘You might have explained your business, then,’ suggested the general,
‘rather than have incurred this aggravating delay.’
‘That is just what I did sir,’ protested Hopkins. ‘I even went the
length of showing him the despatch, and when he seized it’——
‘What!’ vociferated the general. ‘Do you mean to say that the despatch
is no longer in your possession?’
‘Hear me out, sir,’ said Hopkins uncomfortably, for he felt that at the
very best he made a ridiculous appearance in the affair. ‘I merely held
the despatch before his eyes, when he instantly seized it and declared
that it must be a bogus document, and I myself a rebel spy.’
‘Then why did you not recover the document by force?’ demanded the
general sternly.
‘He had already disarmed me, sir. I was completely at the mercy of his
bayonet.’
‘Well, well,’ muttered the general irritably. ‘Go on.’
‘He was for detaining me until the arrival of the rounds; but I gave him
my word that I was not a rebel spy, and, with great reluctance, he at
last permitted me to depart to obtain evidence of my identity.’
‘Retaining the document,’ mused General Shields. ‘Why did you not appeal
to some of the sentries higher up?’
‘You forget, sir, they imagined themselves driven in, and had all
returned to the camp.’
‘Then why had this fellow not followed their example?’ inquired General
Shields sharply.
‘I asked him the same question, sir, and his reply was that there he had
been placed, and there he meant to stay.’
General Shields reflected. ‘I will go with you myself, captain,’ he said
at last. ‘You have either been dealing with a very staunch soldier, or a
most accomplished rogue. Pray Heaven you have not been fooled in this
business.’
‘Oh, I should say not,’ answered Hopkins confidently. ‘The fellow was
staunch, as you say, and a bit pig-headed—indeed you might call it
thick-headed—but he was not fooling me.’
‘We shall see,’ answered the general drily. ‘It is an awkward business,
very.—Major Wheeler,’ he added, turning to a staff officer, who stood
close beside him, ‘order a corporal and ten men to follow me, fifty
paces in the rear.—Now, Captain Hopkins.’
They walked rapidly across the fields, followed by the corporal and his
men, and as they neared the river belt the general said: ‘You are sure
you can go straight to the place?’
‘Certain, sir,’ was the reply. ‘See, here is where I broke cover on my
way back. We have only to follow the trail I made as I ran.’
‘Humph!’ muttered the general as they pushed through the trees. ‘It is
not a little odd that your pig-headed sentry does not challenge
us.—Halt!’ he called to the corporal. ‘We will go on alone. March
forward when I hail you.’
They went on for another twenty paces, and still remained unchallenged,
which was not so very odd after all, considering that there was no one
there to challenge them.
‘It is very singular,’ murmured poor Captain Hopkins. ‘I can’t have
mistaken the place.—General! General!’ he cried, ‘you were right. I have
been fooled. The boat is gone!’
General Shields uttered a fierce exclamation. ‘I’ll be hanged if I
didn’t think so from the very first,’ he shouted: ‘Here, corporal, bring
up your men.—You should not have moved from this spot, sir, when once
you lost possession of those papers,’ he thundered at the unfortunate
Hopkins. ‘You should have died rather than let them fall into the hands
of the enemy, and as you once suspected trickery, there is no excuse for
you.’
‘That was at first, sir,’ stammered Hopkins. ‘Afterwards I had every
reason to believe that’——
‘Silence!’ raged Shields. ‘Your carelessness has effected enough already
without your offering lame explanations. Heaven only knows what the
consequences of this wretched fiasco will be to us.—Corporal!’
‘Sir,’ answered the corporal, saluting.
But before the general could issue his order, whatever it was, Hopkins,
who had been groping about in the undergrowth, shouted excitedly: ‘Here
are the oars and the rowlocks, general, just where I hid them. If the
fellow has cut the boat adrift and gone in her, he can’t be far off.’
‘Can’t he?’ sneered Shields. ‘And how do you know, sir, that the rascal
had not a boat of his own under the bank, and simply cut yours adrift to
lessen the chances of pursuit?’
The bitter suggestion appeared to confound Hopkins for a moment, but he
answered humbly: ‘Of course, general, we must allow for possibilities;
but if I may be permitted to say so, if the fellow had no boat of his
own, and swung out into the stream in mine before he noticed the absence
of oars, the current would carry him rapidly down stream. He could not
land either on one side or the other.’
‘No,’ sneered the general again; ‘and with a current like that, I think
we might as well look for him at Harper’s Ferry by this time. Further,
you seem to forget, sir, that the man had the use of his hands, and by
clinging to the trees alongside the bank, might very well work the boat
up stream in the direction of the enemy.—Moreover,’ he muttered vexedly
to himself, ‘we have no proof that he ever left dry land. Such a fellow,
in Federal uniform, too, might pass anywhere.—And I’ll be bound, sir,’
he flashed out at the miserable Hopkins, ‘that your carelessness has put
him in possession of the countersign. Gad! I shall have him mounting
guard outside my quarters to-night if I don’t take care. This must be
seen to.—What was he like, sir? What was he like? Describe him.’
‘He was a tall, loosely made young man, sallow complexioned, and with a
quantity of black, curling hair upon his cheeks and chin,’ answered
Hopkins feebly, utterly taken aback by this new view of the situation.
General Shields started as if he had been stung. ‘By George!’ he said
under his breath. ‘If I don’t believe that was the identical fellow I
spoke with this morning, and who told me that rigmarole about the
balloon. Perhaps I have been too hard upon Spriggs. I have been, if my
suspicions are correct. And if so, this is a dangerous fellow. We must
lay him by the heels without delay.—Corporal!’
‘Sir,’ said the corporal again.
But once more the general’s order was stayed upon his lips, for at that
moment a solitary rifle-shot rang out, far down the river. It was that
caused by the accidental discharge of Ephraim’s gun.
‘There he is! there he is!’ began Hopkins excitedly; but the general
silenced him with a wave of his hand.
‘We have no proof of that, Captain Hopkins,’ he said coldly. ‘I do not
suppose that if your friend wishes to escape, he is likely to go
gunning on the Shenandoah. However, we will take measures to
ascertain.—Corporal!’
‘Sir,’ answered the corporal once more, and this time he received his
order.
‘Send five of your men up the river to thoroughly search the bank. Take
the other five with you down the river in the direction of that shot.
Lose no time, and leave no stone unturned to secure the man whom Captain
Hopkins has just described. You noted the description?’
‘Yes, general.’
‘Very good. Be off, then. Remember the fellow is—or was—in Federal
uniform.—Now, Captain Hopkins, attend to me, if you please. You will
return to camp at once, give Major Wheeler my compliments, and repeat
your description of this man. Then add that it is my order that he at
once send out search parties in all directions, up the river, down the
river, and in and about the woods, with instructions to bring before the
provost-marshal every stray Federal soldier they can pick up. We shall
recover a lot of stragglers that way, even if we do not get our man.
And—er—one thing more,’ as Hopkins moved away. ‘When you have executed
this order, you will’——
‘Yes, general?’ said Hopkins, quailing under the former’s withering
look.
‘Report yourself to your colonel as under arrest, sir,’ snapped the
general, and turned upon his heel.
Left alone, General Shields made a careful survey of the river and the
bank in his immediate vicinity, but finding nothing for his pains,
returned without further delay to the camp, where he at once gave orders
that the pickets should be doubled along the line next the enemy, and
also, as might have been expected, changed the countersign for the
night.
The moment Lucius took the water, it became plain to him that he had
entered upon no light undertaking, and looking round, he informed the
Grizzly of this.
‘Say, Grizzly,’ he cried, ‘this is going to take me all my time. The
current is tremendous. Watch out now, and the moment you see that the
rope is taut, work your paddle for all you’re worth, so as to bring her
nose round.’
He drew a deep breath, and turning half over, cleft the water with a
powerful side-stroke, in order to bring the greatest possible force to
bear on the nose of the boat, and suddenly. It told. She stopped with a
shiver, the water churning at her bows, and slowly her nose began to
come round. Ephraim worked madly with his rifle-butt, hissing at every
splash like a stable-boy grooming a horse.
‘She’s round!’ he cried joyously. ‘She’s round, Luce! Her nose is ter
the bank!’
On hearing this satisfactory piece of intelligence, Lucius turned over
on his chest and swam with frog strokes towards the shore. He was wise
enough not to attempt this in a bee-line, but moved diagonally, content
to progress if it were but an inch at a time, so long as, aided by
Ephraim’s paddle, he could keep the boat’s nose in the right direction.
It was fortunate for him that he was young and strong, and that he knew
how to husband his strength, for he needed it all in that chill, swiftly
flowing stream.
Presently Ephraim hailed him with encouraging words: ‘Ye’re gittin’
thar, Luce. Ye’re gittin’ thar. Air ye tired, bub? Let yerself drift ef
ye air. Thar’s not a sign er any wan on the bank above or below. My! I
wish I could swim, Luce. Ye wouldn’t be long in thar. Keep it up, sonny.
Ye’re gittin’ us thar.’ And so on, with many soothing, senseless words
that fell gratefully upon the ear of the almost exhausted Lucius.
The boy lifted his eyes and glanced ahead. The bank was now but thirty
feet away; but at the rate he was making it, it was not unlikely that
ten minutes more in the water awaited him. He could not bear to think of
it, for already his limbs felt numb, and his breath began to fail him.
He shut his eyes, set his teeth hard, and struck out blindly. He heard
the plashing of Ephraim’s sorry paddle behind him, and the sound was as
the noise of thunder in his ears. His strokes became feebler and less
frequent, his body swayed more and more to the rush of the current, and
for all that he could do, the rope slackened every now and then. Still
he kept on, beating down that wild desire to hail Ephraim, who he knew
would haul him in at the first call, and slowly struggling towards the
goal of all their hopes, the shore. Suddenly his heart gave a great
leap, seeming to turn over in his chest and stop dead. A great roaring
filled his ears, his head seemed to split asunder with the force of the
pain that racked it; a shriek which made but a bubbling in the water
about his mouth burst from his throat; and as a dead-weight seemed to
drag him downwards, he threw his hands above his head.
Something touched them, and he grasped wildly, clawing at the yielding
support. Joy! It was a branch. He hung on with all his remaining
strength, and in another instant Ephraim had made fast and dragged him
into the boat.
For some minutes he lay down there, unable to speak or move, but
gradually, as the Grizzly rubbed and chafed him, the power came back to
his limbs and the sense to his brain.
‘Thet’s well!’ cried Ephraim, overjoyed. ‘Oh, Luce, it made me sick ter
see ye so done. By time! ye did thet pull in grand style. Air ye all
right now?’
Lucius nodded.
‘‘Cause ef ye air,’ went on Ephraim, ‘I hev got an idee. Ye see thar,
right in front er us, is a cave. It’s not very deep. Fact is, it’s
nuthin’ but a hole in the bank, but it’ll serve fer a restin’-place till
we kin git some notion er what is goin’ ter happen. Git up thar. I’ll
send up the things.’
Standing on the seat of the boat, the hole was just on a level with
Luce’s chest, and with a little assistance from Ephraim he easily
climbed in.
The Grizzly had passed up the clothes, the rifle, and the two belts,
when something arrested his attention. He listened intently for a
moment, and then clinging to the floor of the hole, gave a backward kick
with his feet that sent the boat spinning out into the stream, and
sprang in beside Lucius.
Scarcely had he done so, when a loud voice, not far away, shouted
exultantly: ‘I see him, corporal! There he is!’
[Illustration]