A Run for Life.
Archie was as light of foot as an antelope, and fear lent him wings. In
obedience to his cousin's instructions, he ran up the river, directing
his course through a thick woods, jumping over logs and making his way
through the bushes with a rapidity that surprised himself. The rebel who
had discovered him followed for a short distance, but finding that he
was losing ground, he stopped and fired his revolver in the direction he
supposed Archie had gone; but the bullets went wide of the mark, and the
latter, who now regarded his escape as a thing beyond a doubt, laughed
when he thought how cleverly he had accomplished the object of the
expedition.
Having reached a safe distance from the house, he stopped and listened.
He distinctly heard the crackling of flames, and presently a bright
light shone over the trees. The building was fairly in a blaze. He was,
however, allowed scarcely a moment to congratulate himself, for the
yells of the guerrillas plainly told him that they had discovered the
fire, and were commencing pursuit. Archie again set out, intent on
reaching clear ground as soon as possible, for he knew that no plan
would be left untried to capture him. His situation was still any thing
but a pleasant one, but he was sanguine of reaching the vessel in
safety, until a long-drawn-out bay came echoing through the woods, and
drove the blood back upon his heart. The rebels were following him with
a blood-hound!
For a moment Archie staggered as though he had been struck a severe blow
by some unseen hand, but quickly realizing the fact that his safety
depended upon his own exertions and the use he made of the next few
moments, he speedily recovered his presence of mind, and hastily
securing his revolvers, which, up to this time, he had carried in the
pockets of his pea-jacket, he pulled off that garment, and throwing it
on the ground, started off at the top of his speed.
Being thus relieved of a great incumbrance, he made headway rapidly,
but, fast as he ran, he heard that dreadful sound coming nearer, mingled
with loud yells of triumph from the pursuing rebels He had, with
surprise and indignation, listened to Frank's description of his run
from Shreveport, when he and his companions had been pursued with
blood-hounds, little imagining that he would ever be placed in a similar
situation.
And how did it happen that he had not aroused the hound while he was
about the house? Had he moved so silently that the animal had not heard
him, or had he been in the building with the men? This question Archie
could not answer. But one thing was certain, and that was that the hound
was, at that very moment, on his trail, and unless he soon reached the
river his capture was beyond a doubt. He, however, had no fears of being
overpowered by the hound. He fully realized the fact that he would soon
be overtaken, and had resolved to shoot the animal the moment he made
his appearance.
The yells of the rebels grew fainter, and Archie knew he was gaining on
them. This gave him encouragement. In fact, since the hound had opened
on his trail, after the first momentary feeling of terror had vanished,
he had retained his coolness in a remarkable degree, and had counted
over his chances for capture and escape with surprising deliberation for
one who had never before been placed in so exciting and dangerous a
situation. We have seen that he felt fear. Had it been otherwise he must
have possessed nerves of steel, or have been utterly destitute of the
power of reasoning; but that fear did not so completely overpower him as
it had but a short time before, when he lay behind the bush, and
listened to the guerrilla's plan for the capture of the Boxer and her
crew. On the contrary, it nerved him to make the greatest exertions to
effect his escape.
In a few moments, to his great joy, he emerged from the woods and
entered an open field, across which he ran with redoubled speed.
Directly in front of him was another belt of timber, and beyond that lay
the river, which, if he could reach, he would be safe. The baying of the
hound had continued to grow louder and louder, and, when Archie had
accomplished perhaps half the distance across the field, a crashing in
the bushes and an impatient bark announced, in language too plain to be
misunderstood, that the hound had discovered him.
In an instant he stopped, faced about, and drew one of his revolvers.
Stooping down close to the ground, he finally discovered the hound,
which approached with loud yelps, that were answered by triumphant
cheers from the pursuing rebels. Waiting until the animal was so close
to him that he presented a fair mark, Archie raised his revolver and
fired. The hound bounded into the air, and, after a few struggles, lay
motionless on the ground. Scarcely waiting to witness the effect of the
shot, the young officer sprang to his feet, and again started for the
river. The yells of the rebels--who had heard the shot, and knew, from
the silence that followed, that the hound was dead--again arose fierce
and loud; but Archie, knowing that his pursuers had now lost the power
of following him with certainty, considered the worst part of the danger
as past.
But he had to deal with those who could not be easily deceived. Colonel
Harrison, knowing that the only chance for escape was by the river, had
lined the banks with men, and, as Archie neared the woods, a voice
directly in front of him called out:
"It's all up now, Yank! Drop that shootin'-iron, or you're a gone
sucker!"
Archie's heart fairly came up into his mouth. He had little expected to
find an enemy in that quarter, but, without waiting an instant, he
turned and ran up the river again, hoping that he might soon be able to
get above the sentinels. The rebel, hearing the sound of his footsteps,
and knowing that he was retreating, shouted:
"Halt, Yank! halt! or I'll shoot--blamed if I don't!"
And he _did_ shoot, and Archie heard the bullet as it sung through
the air behind him.
The rebel, without stopping to load his gun, started in pursuit; but
Archie, who was running for his life, soon left him behind. As the
latter ran he heard shots fired on all sides of him, showing that he was
completely surrounded.
Escape seemed utterly impossible; and fearing that he might run into the
very midst of the guerrillas when he least expected it, he threw himself
behind a log in the edge of the woods, and awaited the issue of events
with feelings that can not be described. He now had little hope of being
able to elude his pursuers, who, he was certain, would keep the river
closely guarded until daylight, when they would soon discover his
hiding-place. He could not go on without fear of running against some of
his enemies, in the dark, and to remain where he was, appeared equally
dangerous. But of one thing he was certain--and as the thought passed
through his mind, he clutched his revolvers desperately--and that was,
if he was captured, it would require more than one man to do it.
Presently he heard footsteps approaching, and two rebels came up. One of
them he knew, by his voice, was the very man who had just fired at him.
"I know he went this yere way," said he.
"Wal, hold on a minit," said the other, panting loudly; "let's rest a
leetle--I'm nigh gin out;" and he seated himself so close to Archie
that, had it been daylight, he would certainly have been discovered.
"I'll be dog-gone," said the one who had first spoken, "ef this 'ere
night's work don't beat all natur'. Them ar Yanks ain't no fools, dog ef
they ar!"
"Who'd a thought it?" returned his companion. "Them ar two fellers come
out here an' burn a house with more'n three hundred men in it? Dog-gone!
But how did that other feller get away?"
"Oh, he had a boat," answered the other, "an he got thar afore we could
ketch him. He's on board his gun-boat afore this time. I jest ketched a
glimpse of him as he was goin' down the bank. He had Damon by the neck,
an' he was makin' him walk turkey, now I tell yer."
"Damon ketched!" ejaculated his companion. "An' what's come on the
kernel's mail?"
"Gone up--the hul on it! Damon's got the bracelets on by this time. But
come, let's go on."
All this while the rebels had been coming up, and Archie could hear them
in the woods, on all sides of him, yelling and swearing, like demons. He
had one source of consolation, however--his cousin was safe; and,
judging by the rebels' conversation, he had not gone back to the vessel
empty-handed.
Archie lay for some time listening to the movements of the rebels,
almost afraid to breathe lest it should be overheard, when he was
suddenly startled by a stunning report, which was followed by a hissing
and shrieking in the air; a bright light shone in his eyes for an
instant, and the next, the woods echoed with the bursting of a shell.
The guerrillas had scarcely time to recover from their astonishment when
there came another, and another, each one followed by groans and cries
of anguish that made the young officer shudder.
Frank Nelson had gained the Boxer in safety, and although surprised and
alarmed at the absence of Archie--who, he thought, would make the best
of his way back to the vessel when left to himself--he knew by the
yelling of the rebels, and the pistol-shots that were occasionally
heard, that they had not yet captured him. The noise of the chase
plainly told the Boxer's crew that the fugitive was making the best of
his way up the river, and Frank had opened fire on the rebels to create,
if possible, a diversion in his cousin's favor. His shells were thrown
with fatal accuracy, and the guerrillas, taken completely by surprise,
and having no levee to protect them, beat a hasty retreat.
Although threatened by a new danger, Archie was so overjoyed that he
could scarcely refrain from shouting, and as soon as he was satisfied
that his pursuers were out of hearing, he crawled from his concealment
and ran toward the river. The shells still kept dropping into the woods
at regular intervals, making music most pleasant to Archie's ears, for
he knew that as long as the fire was continued, his chances for escape
were increased. But in his eagerness he never thought of the men who had
been posted on the bank, and as he dashed through the woods, several
shots were fired at him by the rebels concealed in the bushes. But he
reached the water in safety, and struck out for the vessel. A few random
shots were fired at him, which Archie heard as they whistled past him;
but his good fortune had not deserted him, and he again escaped unhurt.
The reports of the guns on board the Boxer pointed out the direction in
which he was to go, and in a quarter of an hour he was within
hailing-distance of the vessel. The splashing he made in the water soon
attracted the attention of the sentry on the forecastle, who, having
been instructed by Frank, had kept a good look-out. A rope was thrown to
Archie, who was pulled on board the vessel in a state of complete
exhaustion.
Frank was soon informed of the safe return of his cousin, and Archie,
almost too weak to speak plainly, was carried to his room, where, after
being divested of his wet clothes, he was put to bed, and left in a
sound sleep. The next morning, however, he appeared in the mess-room, as
lively as ever, and none the worse for his long run; while Frank, who
began to suffer from his wound, was confined to his bed.
The latter listened to his cousin's narration of the part he had borne
in the expedition, and in admiration of Archie's bravery, forgot the
lecture he had intended to administer. The officers, who had not
expected such an exhibition of courage in one whose cheek had blanched
at the whistle of a rebel bullet, were astonished, and it is needless to
say that no more jokes were indulged in at the expense of the "green
paymaster."
For two months Frank held his position as executive officer of the
Boxer, during which time the vessel was twice inspected by the admiral.
He now had little to do beyond the regular routine of ship duties, for
the guerrilla-station had been broken up by the burning of the
plantation-house, and vessels were seldom fired into on the Boxer's
beat. But this was not to continue long, for, one day, the dispatch-boat
brought orders for him to report on board the Michigan--which lay at the
mouth of Red River--as executive officer of that vessel.
This was still another advancement, for the Michigan was an iron-clad,
mounted fourteen guns, and had a crew of one hundred and seventy men.
But Frank would have preferred to remain in his present position. After
considerable hard work, he had brought the Boxer's crew into an
admirable state of discipline; every thing about decks went off as
smoothly as could be desired, and besides, Archie was on board, and he
did not wish to leave him. But he never hesitated to obey his orders,
and as soon as he had packed his trunk, and taken leave of his
messmates, he went on board the dispatch-boat, and in a few days arrived
at his new vessel.
The captain of the Michigan had written to the admiral, requesting that
a "first-class, experienced officer" might be sent him for an executive,
but when Frank presented himself and produced his orders, that gentleman
was astonished. After regarding the young officer sharply for a moment,
he said:
"The admiral, no doubt, knows his own business, but let me tell you,
young man, that you have no easy task before you."
He no doubt thought that a person of Frank's years was utterly incapable
of filling so responsible a position. The latter, with his usual
modesty, replied that he would endeavor to do his duty, and after he had
seen his baggage taken care of, he went into the wardroom, where he
found a young officer seated at the table reading. He arose as Frank
entered, and thrusting out his hand, greeted him with--
"I'm glad to meet you again, Mr. Nelson, and among friends, too."
It was George Le Dell, the escaped prisoner, whom he had met during his
memorable flight from Shreveport. Frank had not seen him, nor even heard
of him, since he had left him on board the Ticonderoga; but here he was,
"among the defenders of the Old Flag" again, in fulfillment of the
promise he had made his rebel father, in the letter which Frank had read
to his fellow fugitives in the woods, where they had halted for the day.
He was not changed--his face still wore that sorrowful expression--and
Frank found that he rarely took part in the conversation around the
mess-table. He was an excellent officer, the especial favorite of the
captain, and beloved by all his messmates, who, very far from suspecting
the cause of his quiet demeanor, called him "Silence."
Frank heartily returned his cordial greeting, and the two friends talked
for a long time of scenes through which they had passed
together--subjects still fresh in their memories--until the entrance of
an officer put a stop to the conversation. Frank understood, by this,
that he was the only one of the ship's company who knew any thing of
George's past history.
The change from the cool, comfortable quarters of the Boxer to the hot
wardroom of the ironclad was not an agreeable one; but Frank was not the
one to complain, and he entered upon his duties with his accustomed
cheerfulness and alacrity. He was allowed very little rest. The captain
of the Michigan--which was the flag-ship of the third division of the
squadron--was a regular officer, who believed in always keeping the men
busy at something, and Frank was obliged to be on his feet from morning
until night. The decks were scrubbed every day, the bright work about
the guns and engines cleaned, the small boats washed out, and then came
quarters, and drilling with muskets or broad-swords. After this, if
there was nothing else to be done, the outside of the vessel was
scrubbed, or the chimneys repainted. In short, the Michigan was the
pattern of neatness, and her crew, being constantly drilled, knew
exactly what was required of them, and were ready for any emergency.
For several months little occurred to relieve the monotony of ship-life
beyond making regular trips from one end of their beat to the other; but
when spring opened, gun-boats and transports, loaded with soldiers,
began to assemble, and preparations were made for the Red River
expedition. At length every thing was ready, and one pleasant morning
the gun-boats weighed their anchors and led the way up the river.
Frank stood on deck as the vessels steamed along, and could not help
drawing a contrast between his present position and the one in which he
was placed when he first saw Red River. Then, he and his companions were
fugitives from a rebel prison; they had been tracked by bloodhounds, and
followed by men at whose hands, if retaken, they could expect nothing
but death. He remembered how his heart bounded with joy on the morning
when he and his associates, in their leaky dug-out, had arrived in sight
of the Mississippi. Then, he was ragged, hatless, and almost shoeless,
weary with watching, and living in constant fear of recapture. Now, he
was among friends, the Old Flag waved above him, and he was the second
in command of one of the finest vessels in the squadron.
The passage up the river was without incident worthy of note, and in a
short time they arrived at the obstructions which the rebels had placed
in the river nine miles below Fort De Russy. A vast amount of time and
labor had been expended upon these obstructions, but they were speedily
cleared away, and the fleet passed on. They had expected a stubborn
resistance at the fort, but it had been captured by the army after a
short engagement, and the gun-boats kept on to Alexandria.