ALL healthy boys have a strong tincture of the savage in them. The
savage alternately worships his gods with blind, unreasoning idolatry,
or treats them with measureless contumely.
Boys do the same with their heroes. It is either fervent admiration, or
profound distrust, merging into actual contempt. After the successful
little skirmish with the guerrillas the boys were wild in their
enthusiasm over Si and Shorty. They could not be made to believe that
Gens. Grant, Sherman or Thomas could conduct a battle better. But the
moment that Si and Shorty seemed dazed by the multitude into which they
were launched, a revulsion of feeling developed, which soon threatened
to be ruinous to the partners' ascendancy.
During the uncomfortable, wakeful night the prestige of the partners
still further diminished. In their absence the army had been turned
topsy-turvy and reorganized in a most bewildering way. The old
familiar guide-marks had disappeared. Two of the great corps had been
abolished--consolidated into one, with a new number and a strange
commander. Two corps of strange troops had come in from the Army of
the Potomac, and had been consolidated into one, taking an old corps'
number. Divisions, brigades and regiments had been totally changed in
commanders, formation and position. Then the Army of the Tennessee had
come in, to complicate the seeming muddle, and the more that Si and
Shorty cross-questioned such stragglers as came by the clearer it seemed
to the boys that they were hopelessly bewildered, and the more depressed
the youngsters became.
The morning brought no relief. Si and Shorty talked together, standing
apart from the squad, and casting anxious glances over the swirling
mass of army activity, which the boys did not fail to note and read with
dismal forebodings.
"I do believe they're lost," whimpered little Pete Skidmore. "What
in goodness will ever become of us, if we're lost in this awful
wilderness?"
The rest shuddered and grew pale at this horrible prospect.
"That looks like a brigade headquarters over there," said Si, pointing
to the left. "And I believe that's our old brigade flag. I'm goin' over
there to see."
"I don't believe that's any brigade headquarters at all," said Shorty.
"Up there, to the right, looks ever so much more like a brigade
headquarters. I'm goin' up there to see. You boys stay right there, and
don't move off the ground till I come back. I won't be gone long."
As he left, the boys began to feel more lonely and hopeless than ever,
and little Pete Skidmore had hard work to restrain his tears.
A large, heavy-jowled man, with a mass of black whiskers, and wearing a
showy but nondescript uniform, appeared.
"That must be one o' the big Generals," said Harry Joslyn. "Looks like
the pictures o' Grant. Git into line, boys, and salute."
"No, it ain't Grant, neither," said Gid Mackall. "Too big. Must be Gen.
Thomas."
The awed boys made an effort to form a line and receive him properly.
"Who are you, boys?" said the newcomer, after gravely returning the
salute.
"We're recruits for the 200th Injianny Volunteer Infantry," answered
Harry Joslyn. "Kin you tell us where the rijimint is? We're lost.
"Used to know sich a regiment. In fact, I used to be Lieutenant-Colonel
of it. But I hain't heared of it for a long time. Think it's petered
out."
"Petered out!" gasped the boys.
"Yes. It was mauled and mummixed to death. There's plenty o'
mismanagement all around the army, but the 200th Injianny had the worst
luck of all. It got into awful bad hands. I quit it just as soon's I see
how things was a-going. They begun to plant the men just as soon's
they crossed the Ohio, and their graves are strung all the way from
Louisville to Chickamauga. The others got tired o' being mauled around,
and starved, and tyrannized over, and o' fighting for the nigger, and
they skipped for home like sensible men."
The boys shuddered at the doleful picture.
"Who brung you here?" continued the newcomer.
"Sarjint Klegg and Corpril Elliott," answered Harry.
"Holy smoke," said the newcomer with a look of disgust. "They've made
non-commish out o' them sapsuckers. Why, I wouldn't let them do nothin'
but dig ditches when I was in command o' the regiment. But they probably
had to take them. All the decent material was gone. How much bounty'd
you get?"
"We got $27.50 apiece," answered Harry. "But we didn't care nothin' for
the bounty. We--"
"Only $27.50 apiece. Holy smoke! They're payin' 10 times that in some
places."
"I tell you, we didn't enlist for the bounty," reiterated Harry.
"All the same, you don't want to be robbed o' what's yours. You don't
want to be skinned out o' your money by a gang o' snoozers who're
gittin' rich off of green boys like you. Where's this Sarjint Klegg and
Corpril Elliott that brung you here?"
"They've gone to look for the rijimint."
"Gone to look for the regiment. Much they've gone to look for the
regiment. They've gone to look out for their scalawag selves. When you
see 'em agin, you'll know 'em, that's all."
Little Pete Skidmore began to whimper.
"Say, boys," continued the newcomer, "you'd better drop all idee of that
200th Injianny and come with me. If there is any sich a regiment any
more, and you get to it, you'd be sorry for it as long as you live. I
know a man over here who's got a nice regiment, and wants a few more
boys like you to fill it up. He'll treat you white and give you twice
as much bounty as you'll git anywhere's else, and he's goin' to keep his
regiment back in the fortifications, where there won't be no fightin',
and hard marches, and starvation--"
"But we enlisted to fight and march, and--" interjected Harry.
"Well, you want a good breakfast just now, more'n anything else, judgin'
from appearances. Come along with me and I'll git you something to eat."
"But we waz enlisted for the 200th Injianny Volunteer Infantry, and must
go to that rijimint," protested Monty Scruggs.
"Well, what's that got to do with your havin' a good breakfast?" said
the newcomer plausibly. "You need that right off. Then we kin talk about
your regiment. As a matter of fact, you're only enlisted in the Army of
the United States and have the right to go to any regiment you please.
Tyrannical as the officers may be, they can't take that privilege of an
American freeman away from you. Come along and git breakfast first."
The man's appearance was so impressive, his words and confident manner
so convincing, and the boys so hungry that their scruples vanished, and
all followed the late Lieut.-Col. Billings, as he gave the word, and
started off through the mazes of the camp with an air of confident
knowledge that completed his conquest of them.
Ex-Lieut.-Col. Billings strode blithely along, feeling the gladsome
exuberance of a man who had "struck a good thing," and turning over in
his mind as to where he had best market his batch of lively recruits,
how he could get around the facts of their previous enlistment, and how
much he ought to realize per head. He felt that he could afford to
give the boys a good breakfast, and that that would be fine policy.
Accordingly, he led the way to one of the numerous large eating houses,
established by enterprising sutlers, to their own great profit and the
shrinkage of the pay of the volunteers. He lined the boys up in front of
the long shelf which served for a table and ordered the keeper:
"Now, give each of these boys a good breakfast of ham and eggs and
trimmings and I'll settle for it."
"Good mornin', Kunnel. When 'd you git down here?" said a voice at his
elbow.
"Hello, Groundhog, is that you?" said Billings, turning around. "Just
the man I wanted to see. Finish your breakfast and come out here. I want
to talk to you."
"Well," answered Groundhog, wiping his mouth, "I'm through. The feller
that runs this shebang ain't made nothin' offen me, I kin tell you. It's
the first square meal I've had for a week, and I've et until there ain't
a crack left inside o' me that a skeeter could git his bill in. I laid
out to git the wuth o' my money, and I done it. What're you doin' down
here in this hole? Ain't Injianny good enough for you?"
"Injianny's good enough on general principles, but just now there's too
much Abolition malaria there for me. The Lincoln satraps 've got the
swing on me, and I thought I'd take a change of air. I've come down here
to see if there weren't some chances to make a good turn, and I've
done very well so far. I've done a little in cattle and got some cotton
through the lines--enough at least to pay my board and railroad fare.
But I think the biggest thing is in recruits, and I've got a scheme
which I may let you into. You know there are a lot of agents down here
from the New England States trying to git niggers to fill up their
quotas, and they are paying big money for recruits. Can't you go out and
gether up a lot o' niggers that we kin sell 'em?"
"Sure," said Groundhog confidently. "Kin git all you want, if you'll pay
for 'em. But what's this gang you've got with you?"
"O, they're a batch for that blasted Abolition outfit, the 200th
Injianny. Them two ornery galoots, Si and Shorty, whose necks I ought've
broke when I was with the regiment, have brung 'em down. They're not
goin' to git to the 200th Injianny if I kin help it, though. First
place, it'll give old McBiddle, that Abolition varmint, enough to git
him mustered as Colonel. He helped oust me, and I have it in for him.
He was recommended for promotion for gittin' his arm shot off at
Chickamauga. Wisht it'd bin his cussed head."
"But what're you goin' to do with the gang?" Groundhog inquired.
"O, there are two or three men around here that I kin sell 'em to for
big money. I ought to make a clean thousand off 'em if I make a cent."
"How much'll I git out o' that?" inquired Groundhog anxiously.
"Well, you ain't entitled to nothin' by rights. I've hived this crowd
all by myself, and kin work 'em all right. But if you'll come along and
make any affidavits that we may need, I'll give you a sawbuck. But on
the nigger lay I'll stand in even with you, half and half. You run 'em
in and I'll place 'em and we'll whack up."
"'Tain't enough," answered Groundhog angrily. "Look here, Jeff Billings,
I know you of old. You've played off on me before, and I won't stand no
more of it. Jest bekase you've bin a Lieutenant-Colonel and me only a
teamster you've played the high and mighty with me. I'm jest as good as
you are any day. I wouldn't give a howl in the infernal regions for your
promises. You come down now with $100 in greenbacks and I'll go along
and help you all I kin. If you don't--"
"If I don't what'll you do, you lowlived whelp?" said Billings, in his
usual brow-beating manner. "I only let you into this as a favor, because
I've knowed you before. You hain't brains enough to make a picayune
yourself, and hain't no gratitude when someone else makes it for you.
Git out o' here; I'm ashamed to be seen speakin' to a mangy hound like
you. Git out o' here before I kick you out. Don't you dare speak to one
o' them boys, or ever to me agin. If you do I'll mash you. Git out."
Si and Shorty's dismay when they returned and found their squad entirely
disappeared was overwhelming. They stood and gazed at one another for a
minute in speechless alarm and wonderment.
"Great goodness," gasped Si at length, "they can't have gone far. They
must be somewhere around."
"Don't know about that," said Shorty despairingly. "We've bin gone some
little time and they're quick-footed little rascals."
"What fools we wuz to both go off and leave 'em," murmured Si in deep
contrition. "What fools we wuz."
"No use o' cryin' over spilt milk," answered Shorty. "The thing to
do now is to find 'em, which is very much like huntin' a needle in a
haystack. You stay here, on the chance o' them comin' back, and I'll
take a circle around there to the left and look for 'em. If I don't find
'em I'll come back and we'll go down to the Provo-Marshal's."
"Goodness, I'd rather be shot than go back to the rijimint without 'em,"
groaned Si. "How kin I ever face the Colonel and the rest o' the boys?"
Leaving Si gazing anxiously in every direction for some clew to his
missing youngsters, Shorty rushed off in the direction of the sutler's
shanties, where instinct told him he was most likely to find the
runaways.
He ran up against Groundhog.
"Where are you goin' in sich a devil of a hurry?" the teamster asked.
"Smell a distillery somewhere?"
"Hello, Groundhog, is that you? Ain't you dead yit? Say, have you seen
a squad o' recruits around here--all boys, with new uniforms, and no
letters or numbers on their caps?"
"Lots and gobs of 'em. Camp's full of 'em. More comin' in by every
train."
"But these wuz all Injianny boys, most of 'em little. Not an old man
among 'em."
"Shorty, I know where your boys are. What'll you give me to tell you?"
Shorty knew his man of old, and just the basis on which to open
negotiations.
"Groundhog, I've just had my canteen filled with first-class
whisky--none o' your commissary rotgut, but old rye, hand-made,
fire-distilled. I got it to take out to the boys o' the rijimint to
celebrate my comin' back. Le' me have just one drink out of it, and I'll
give it to you if you'll tell."
Groundhog wavered an instant. "I wuz offered $10 on the other side."
Shorty was desperate. "I'll give you the whisky and $10."
"Le' me see your money and taste your licker."
"Here's the money," said Shorty, showing a bill. "I ain't goin' to trust
you with the canteen, but I'll pour out this big spoon full, which'll
be enough for you to taste." Shorty drew a spoon from his haversack and
filled it level full.
"It's certainly boss licker," said Groundhog, after he had drunk it,
and prudently hefted the canteen to see if it was full. "I'll take your
offer. You're to have just one swig out o' it, and no more, and not a
hog-swaller neither. I know you. You'd drink that hull canteenful at one
gulp, if you had to. You'll let me put my thumb on your throat?"
"Yes, and I'll give you the canteen now and the money after we find the
boys."
"All right. Go ahead. Drink quick, for you must go on the jump, or
you'll lose your boys."
Shorty lifted the canteen to his lips and Groundhog clasped his throat
with his thumb on Adam's apple. When Shorty got his breath he sputtered:
"Great Jehosephat, you didn't let me git more'n a spoonful. But where
are the boys?"
"Old Jeff Billings's got 'em down at Zeke Wiggins's hash-foundry feedin'
'em, so's he kin toll 'em off into another rijimint."
"Old Billings agin," shouted Shorty in a rage. "Where's the place? Show
it to me. But wait a minute till I run back and git my pardner."
"Gi' me that licker fust," shouted Groundhog, but Shorty was already
running back for Si. When he returned with him he threw the canteen to
Groundhog with the order, "Go ahead and show us the place."
By the time they came in sight of the sutler's shanty the boys had
finished their breakfast and were moving off after Billings.
"There's your man and there's your boys," said Groundhog, pointing to
them. "Now gi' me that 'ere sawbuck. You'll have to excuse me havin'
anything to do with old Billings. He's licked me twice already."
Shorty shoved the bill into his hand, and rushed down in front of
Billings.
"Here, you black-whiskered old roustabout, where 're you takin' them
boys?" he demanded.
"Git out o' my way, you red-headed snipe," answered Billings, making a
motion as if to brush him away.
"If you don't go off and leave them boys alone I'll belt you over the
head with my gun," said Si, raising his musket.
"You drunken maverick," answered Billings, trying to brave it out. "I'll
have you shot for insultin' and threatenin' your sooperior officer.
Skip out o' here before the Provo comes up and ketches you. Let me go on
about my business. Forward, boys."
"Officer nothin'. You can't play that on us," said Si. "Halt, there,
boys, and stand fast."
A crowd of teamsters, sutlers' men and other camp followers gathered
around. A tall, sandybearded man with keen, gray eyes and a rugged,
stony face rode up. He wore a shabby slouch hat, his coat was old and
weather-stained, but he rode a spirited horse.
"Here, what's all this row about?" he asked in quick, sharp tones.
"Keep out o' this mix," said Shorty, without looking around. "'Tain't
none o' your business. This is our party." With that he made a snatch at
Billings's collar to jerk him out of the way.
"What, you rascal, would you assault an officer?" said the newcomer,
spurring his horse through the crowd to get at Shorty.
[Illustration: HE AIN'T NO OFFICER 27]
"He ain't no officer, General," said Si, catching sight of two dim stars
on the man's shoulders. "He's tryin' to steal our recruits from us."
"Yes, I am an officer," said Billings, avoiding Shorty's clutch. "These
men are assaultin' me while I'm on duty. I want them arrested and
punished."
"Fall back there, both of you," said the General severely, as Si and
Shorty came to a present arms. "Sergeant, who are you, and where do you
belong?"
"I'm Serg't Klegg, sir, of Co. Q, 200th Injianny Volunteer Infantry."
"Who are you, Corporal?"
"I'm Corp'l Elliott, sir, of Co. Q, 200th Injianny Volunteer Infantry."
"Now, officer, who are you?"
"I'm Lieut.-Col. Billings, sir."
"Where's your shoulder-straps?"
"I had 'em taken off this coat to git fixed. They were torn."
"Where's your sword?"
"I left it in my quarters."
"Fine officer, to go on duty that way. Where do you belong?"
Billings hesitated an instant, but he felt sure that the General did not
belong to the Army of the Cumberland, and he answered:
"I belong to the 200th Ind."
"That ain't true, General," Si protested. "He was fired out of the
regiment a year ago. He's a citizen."
"Silence, Sergeant. Billings? Billings? The name of the
Lieutenant-Colonel of the 200th Ind. happens to be McBiddle--one-armed
man, good soldier. Billings? Billings? T. J. Billings? Is that your
name?"
"Yes, sir," answered Billings, beginning to look very uncomfortable.
"Didn't you have some trouble about a bunch of cattle you sold to the
Quartermaster-General?"
"Well, there was little difference of opinion, but--"
"That'll do, sir. That'll do for the present. I begin to get you placed.
I thought I knew the name Billings as soon as you spoke it, but I
couldn't remember any officer in my army of that name. Now, Sergeant,
tell me your story."
"General, me and my pardner here," began Si, "have bin home on wounded
furlough. Wounded at Chickamauga and promoted. We got orders to bring on
this squad o' recruits from Jeffersonville for our rijimint. We got in
last night and this mornin' me and my pardner started out to see if we
could find someone to direct us to the rijimint, leavin' the squad alone
for a few minutes. While we wuz gone this feller, who's bin fired out of
our rijimint and another one that he was in, come along and tolled our
boys off, intendin' to sneak 'em into another rijimint and git pay for
'em. By great good luck we ketched him in time, just before you come up.
You kin ask the boys themselves if I hain't told you the truth."
"Good idea," said the General, in his quick, peremptory way. "You three
(indicating Si, Shorty and Billings) march off there 25 paces, while I
talk to the boys."
Gen. Sherman, for it was the Commander of the Military Division of
the Mississippi, who, with his usual impetuous, thorough way, would
investigate even the most insignificant affair in his camps, when the
humor seized him, now sprang from his horse, and began a sharp, nervous
cross-questioning of the boys as to their names, residence, ages, how
they came there and whither they were bound.
"You came down with this Sergeant and Corporal, did you? You were
recruited for the 200th Ind., were you? You were put under the charge of
those men to be taken to your regiment?" he asked Pete Skidmore, at the
end of the line.
"Yes, sir," blubbered Pete. "And they are always losin' us, particularly
me, durn 'em. Spite of all I kin say to 'em they'll lose me, durn their
skins."
"No, my boy, you sha'n't be lost," said the General kindly, as he
remounted. "Stick to our command and you'll come through all right.
Billings, you thorough-paced rascal, I want you to get to the other side
of the Ohio River as quickly as the trains will carry you. I haven't
time to deal with you as you deserve, but if I have occasion to speak
to you again you'll rue it as long as you live. There's a train getting
ready to go out. If you are wise, you'll take it. Serg't Klegg and
Corp'l Elliott, you deserve to lose your stripes for both of you leaving
your squad at the same time. See that you don't do it again. You'll find
the 200th Ind. in camp on the east side of Mission Ridge, about a mile
south of Rossville Gap. Go out this road until you pass old John Ross's
house about a half a mile. You'll find several roads leading off to the
right, but don't take any of them till you come to one that turns off
by a sweet gum and a honey-locust standing together on the banks of a
creek. Understand? A sweet gum and a honey-locust standing together on
the banks of a creek. Turn off there, go across the mountain and you'll
find your camp. Move promptly now."
"I declare," said a big Wagonmaster, as the General galloped off, "if
that old Gump Sherman don't beat the world. He not only knows where
every regiment in his whole army is located, but I believe he knows
every man in it. He's a far-reacher, I tell you."
"Great Jehosephat," gasped Shorty, "was that Gen. Tecumseh Sherman?"
"As sure 's you're a foot high," replied the Wagonmaster.
"And I told him to mind his own business," stammered Shorty.
"Yes, and if it hadn't bin for him you'd 'a' lost us, durn it,"
ejaculated little Pete Skidmore.