THE OPERATIONS OF THE BRIDGE-BURNERS
Deck was alone, a prisoner, his ankles bound together, his wrists
strapped behind him, and his body made fast to the old bench against the
fence. He was not absolutely uncomfortable physically; for Brown Kipps
had extended some consideration to him, so that he suffered no pain from
the bonds which secured him. The fastenings were straps, taken from his
accoutrements; and they did not cut into his flesh, as cords might have
done if they had been tied too tight.
All his pain was in the soul, which manacles are dramatically and
metaphorically said to pierce when the victim is a high-spirited person.
Deck had been captured at his post; and this fact humiliated him, though
a court-martial would have acquitted him of all blame. No one below
could possibly know that anything had happened to him, or a file of
troopers would have been sent to release him before this time. He was
almost in sight of his father and Artie; but they were busy watching and
waiting for the fight which all believed would certainly take place.
But the prisoner was not left entirely without occupation other than his
needless and undeserved self-reproaches; for if any one was to blame it
was his father, who had placed him alone at such a distance from the
rest of the force, though no one suspected the presence of an enemy in
that direction. He had enough to do to observe the operations of the
bridgemen. The moment they had secured the prisoner to the satisfaction
of the foreman, the other three hastened to disappear over the
embankment. They were out of sight but a few minutes, and then one of
them returned, while the other two passed up to him several gallon cans.
By this time Kipps joined them; and a lot of small bundles of light
wood, such as is much used in the South in kindling fires, were tossed
up, and caught by the foreman.
Deck understood that all these articles were combustibles, though he
could not make out the nature of some of them. All of them were left
where they had been received, on the platform of the bridge. It was
evident enough to the manacled observer that the structure was doomed,
and was to be burned in the very presence of the cavalry sent to protect
it. Deck twisted, squirmed, and struggled when he realized the
intentions of the bridgemen.
It galled him to the inmost depths of the soul to think that the bridge
was to be destroyed before his eyes, and he had not the power to do
anything to save it. He did not believe he would be left to perish in
the flames, if they reached the place where he was secured, and he had
not a selfish fear. He was tempted to repeat the cries he had made
before; but the threat of Kipps to shoot him if he "made a row"
restrained him. It was folly to throw away his life; for he was vain
enough to believe it might be of some service to his country in its hour
of peril.
When the men had finished passing up the material, which had plainly
been collected in this place for the destruction of the bridge, each of
them took a tin case under his arm, and they moved over to the shelter
of the fence where they had left their tools. They stopped there long
enough to obtain a couple of shovels and as many pickaxes, and then
went to the end of the fence next to the bridge.
If the occasion had been less serious, Deck would have been amused at
the bridgemen's attempts to conceal themselves from the force below.
They worked like miners following a vein of ore deep down in the bowels
of the earth, as the witness had seen them in pictures, lying on their
backs, or curled up in a heap, using the pickaxe as they could. Between
the wall and the embankment the earth had settled so that there was a
considerable cavity. Two of the men worked in this hole for a while, the
others lying prone upon the ground and watching them.
Then the four cans they had brought were deposited in the aperture,
Kipps adjusting and preparing them with his own hands. Deck did not
understand what they intended to accomplish by this operation, though he
concluded that they meant to blow up the abutment, and that the cans
contained powder or dynamite. Whatever the work was, it was soon
completed; and then the movements of the men became more amusing than
ever. They crawled about on their hands and knees, carrying the cans and
bundles of light wood.
They unbound the packages of wood, arranged the little sticks in heaps,
and poured what Deck supposed was spirits of turpentine or kerosene over
them and on the planks of the structure. The work of preparation was
soon completed; for the men seemed to be skilled in the operation, as
though they had had experience in these details. They all crawled back
to the shelter of the fence, and straightened their backs again.
"Now, my little lily of the valley, I shall have to put you under
marching orders," Kipps said, as he stopped before the prisoner.
"What are you going to do with me?" asked Deck, though he hardly
expected a definite answer to the question.
"I don't know, my butterfly; but I reckon you uns over there," he
replied, pointing to the soldiers below, "would make mischief for we uns
if we stay here a great while longer;" and he proceeded to release the
victim from the bench.
"I judge that you intend to blow up and burn this bridge," added Deck.
"The whole Yankee army couldn't save it now!" exclaimed the chief
bridgeman. "We uns, about two hundred so'diers along with us, was sent
over here to make an opening between these two hills; and if you think
we ain't go'n' to do it, why, you don't know Brown Kipps, that's all!"
"I think I have been pretty well introduced to him," replied Deck, who
had become somewhat accustomed to the situation; and he thought he
should fare better with such a person as the foreman by being
good-natured than by growling and annoying him. "When you whistled
'Yankee Doodle,' I made up my mind that you were a true Union man, and
my heart went out to you."
"I ain't much on 'Yankee Doodle,' and I could done better with 'Dixie;'
and I ain't none o' them carrion as whistles 'Yankee Doodle' for the fun
on't. It did well enough to still your nerves," said Kipps, as he
finished releasing the legs of his prisoner. "Now I want you to march up
to that place where you see the wagon standin' down by the side of the
railroad. You needn't keep step, nor nothin' o' that sort. I reckon the
cheese-knife and the shooter are too heavy for a young feller like you
to kerry, and I'll tote 'em for you," continued the bridge foreman, as
he began to examine the lock of the carbine.
"You are very kind, Mr. Kipps," replied Deck.
"That's me all over when you use me well; but, my little lion, if you
should take into that small coon's head o' yourn to be ongrateful for my
kindness to you, and make a row, or try to run away, I should have to
shoot you jest the same as I should a 'possum if I wanted a Christmas
dinner in the woods. Is this thing loaded with ball?"
"Of course it is; it wouldn't be any better than a broomstick if it were
not," replied Deck.
"I don't know as I see through this thing edzactly," said Kipps, as he
continued to study the mechanism of the lock. "I've got the cartridges,
but I don't see any ramrod. Won't you just show me how to work it?"
"Teach you how to use a carbine to shoot me with!" exclaimed Deck,
trying to laugh. "You must excuse me, for that would be giving
information to the enemy in time of war, and I should be court-martialed
for it."
"Jest as you like, Yank; but if there is one load in the pipestem, that
will be enough to put you out of the way of any court-martial. I reckon
I see into it now; you put the pill in here."
"I haven't anything to say on that subject, Mr. Kipps; but if you
should happen to shoot yourself with it, that would save some Union
soldier the trouble of doing the job," added Deck.
"But we uns hain't got no time to fool," said the foreman briskly.
"You'll let the cat out jest as soon as you see us by the wagon. You can
start things now, and open up the cat-bag as soon as you git 'em
started."
"What's all that gwine on down below?" asked Lank Rablan, as he looked
cautiously by the end of the fence.
"Well, what is it?" demanded Kipps impatiently.
"They are all lookin' up hyer; and that feller with a squawrel's tail in
his hat is shaking a white rag over his head as though he'd lost his
senses, if he ever had any," Lank explained.
"No matter what it is! Go to work, and hurry up, Sykes!" said Kipps in
vigorous tones. "Now, my little Yankee angel, jest move over to the
other side of the track, and march lively!"
Sykes was already crawling along the bridge, lighting the fires he had
prepared. There were not more than half a dozen of them, and they were
soon blazing up, though in the bright sunshine they did not make much
show. Deck followed Lobkill and Rablan, as he was directed, while Kipps,
with the carbine in his hand, brought up the rear. The foreman changed
his plan when he found that the attention of the soldiers below was
directed to the bridge; and, still sheltered by the fence, the two in
advance left the level of the track, and made their way along the slope
of the embankment.
Deck was ordered to follow them; but as his arms were still bound behind
him, he found it was a rather difficult matter to preserve his balance.
Kipps spoke to him quite savagely, perhaps believing he was making a
movement to slide down the slope to the field below.
"If you think it is an easy matter to walk along this steep bank with
your hands tied behind you, just let Mr. Lobkill put you in the same
condition that I am, and see how you will get along," replied Deck, as
good-naturedly as before.
"There may be sunthin' in that. Jest hold still a moment," said Kipps.
Deck was glad enough to stop; for he was hardly able to keep on his
feet, as the earth slipped away under him. The foreman unstrapped the
fastening, and put the sling in his pocket, perhaps for the same use in
the future.
"Now, little lovely, trot again; but don't you forget that I have got
the hang of this shooting-iron, and the ball can trot faster'n you can."
The prisoner obeyed the order, and he was beginning to think that the
foreman was a tolerably good sort of a fellow, aside from his politics.
He followed his leaders; and he had now no difficulty in keeping up with
them, for he could retain his balance as well as any of them. In a short
time they reached the vicinity of the wagon, which stood in the field,
with the six mules that drew it there fastened to the pole. The
mule-driver was a negro, who was asleep on the grass by the side of the
vehicle.
"Now, my little Yankee saint, we are all right, and in about three
minutes and three-quarters that bridge will go up the air; or some on't
will, and the rest on't will go the same way in smoke," said Kipps, as
he seated himself on a disused sleeper, and took a black pipe from his
pocket. "Don't you think we uns are right smart down this way?"
"I suppose you are;
'For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.'"
"But Satan didn't find any for you uns in the ranks over yonder, fur
they've been idle all day," retorted Kipps with an explosive
horse-laugh.
"But we whipped out a force of Texan Rangers over yonder, and I don't
believe they have done running yet," answered Deck.
"Them Texicans is gwine to wipe you uns out 'fore they git done with
you," added Lank Rablan. "I consayt they see'd sunthin' on the bridge,
fur they was all lookin' that way when we left."
"There comes Sykes, and I reckon he can tell us sunthin' about it," said
Kipps. "If anything's the matter down below there, I reckon we four had
better go down and lick the Yankees out of their boots."
"Don't you do it, Mr. Kipps," interposed Deck. "They might hang you for
burning the bridge."
"Wait till we hear what Sykes has got to say, and then"--
But the remark, brilliant as it might have proved to be, was interrupted
by the explosion which was heard on the south road, and which had been
the signal for Captain Dingfield to make the attack.
"There goes your bridge!" exclaimed Kipps, looking at his prisoner with
a glow of exultation on his brown face. "Now I reckon you can see that
your Yankee cavalry couldn't save it."
"I cannot see the bridge from here, and I don't know whether or not they
have been able to save it. Wait till we get further news, Mr. Kipps."
"I reckon we don't stop here no longer, for we've done our work, and
that bridge is burning lively before this time," added the foreman, as
he shouted to the negro driver to hitch on his mules.
In ten minutes more the bridgemen had loaded themselves in the covered
wagon, with all their tools and material. Deck was given a place under
the canvas, while the four men were seated at the forward end. The negro
started his team, and the prisoner had no idea where he was going.