A CLOSE SHAVE.
When the morning came they bent their steps down the bank, keeping in
the edge of the woods to prevent surprise, but not far enough from the
river to allow any boat that might chance to pass to escape their
observation. They again began to feel the fierce pangs of hunger, which
they endeavored to alleviate by chewing twigs and roots. But this
affording them no relief, the mate finally proposed that they should
turn back into the country and ask for food at the first house they
could find. Recapture was preferable to starving to death. Frank easily
turned him from his purpose by assuring him that they would certainly be
picked up during the afternoon, or on the following morning. But night
came, without bringing them any relief, and the tired and hungry
fugitives again lay down in the woods and slept.
About noon, on the next day, they found themselves on the banks of a
wide and deep ravine, that ran across their path. To climb up and down
those steep banks was impossible; their wasted strength was not equal to
the task. Their only course was to follow the ravine back into the woods
until they could find some means of crossing it. After wearily dragging
themselves for two hours over fallen logs, and through thick, tangled
bushes and cane-brakes that lay in their path, they emerged from the
woods, and found before them a small log-hut, standing close to a bridge
that spanned the ravine. Hastily drawing back into the bushes, they
closely examined the premises, which seemed to be deserted, with the
exception of a negro, whom they saw hitching a mule to a tree at the
back of the cabin.
"I don't see any white men there, Jack," said Frank. "I think we may
safely ask that negro for something to eat. I hardly think there is any
danger, for, if he should attempt mischief, we could soon overpower
him. What do you say? Shall we go up?"
"Just as you say, sir," answered the mate. "But let us first get
something to use as a belaying-pin, in case any body should run foul of
our hawse."
The fugitives procured two short clubs, and moved out of the woods
toward the cabin. The negro immediately discovered them. At first, he
rolled up his eyes in surprise, and acted very much as if he was about
to retreat; but, after finding that the two sailors were alone, his face
assumed a broad grin, which the fugitives took for a smile of welcome.
When they had approached within speaking distance, Frank inquired:
"Well, uncle, is there any chance for a hungry man to get any thing to
eat in here?"
"Plenty ob it, massa," answered the negro. "Go right in de house."
The fugitives, far from suspecting any treachery, were about to comply;
but Frank, who was in advance, had scarcely put his foot on the
threshold, when two rebel soldiers sprang out of the cabin, and one of
them, seizing him by the collar, flourished a huge bowie-knife above
his head and demanded his surrender. So sudden was the assault that
Frank, for a moment, was deprived of all power of action. But not so
with the mate, who, retaining his presence of mind, swung his club about
him with a dexterity truly surprising, and brought it down with all the
force of his sturdy arms upon the head of the rebel, who, instantly
releasing his hold, sank to the ground with a low groan. But before he
could repeat the blow, three more soldiers sprang from the cabin, and,
in spite of their struggles, overpowered them; not, however, until the
mate had been stunned by a blow from the butt of a pistol.
"Wal, I'll be dog-gone!" exclaimed one of the rebels, "but this is a
lucky haul of Yankees. Tom, get some water and throw it into the
captain's face," pointing to their prostrate companion, "an' fetch him
to. The rest of you, get some ropes an' tie these fellers' hands behind
them."
While the men were executing these orders, Frank had time to scan the
countenances of his captors. They evidently did not belong to the
Wild-cats, for, although that regiment was composed of most
ferocious-looking men, they appeared like gentlemen compared with those
in whose power he now found himself. These were a dirty, ragged,
blood-thirsty looking set of men, and, unless their countenances belied
them, they were capable of any atrocity.
Presently, the men who had gone into the cabin returned with some pieces
of cord, with which they proceeded to confine the hands of their
prisoners, who offered no resistance. By the time this was accomplished,
the man whom the mate had handled so roughly had been restored to
consciousness, and supported himself against the cabin to collect his
thoughts, while the others stood silently by, as if awaiting his orders.
"Get every thing ready," he said, at length, "and let the job be done at
once. It needs no judge or jury to decide the fate of these men,
knowing, as we do, what has befallen those of our number who were so
unfortunate as to fall into the hands of the Federals."
The rebels, in obedience to the order, brought out of the cabin two
pieces of rope, which they took to a tree that stood close by, and,
coiling them up in their hands, threw one end over a limb that
stretched out about six feet from the ground, and fastened them there.
"Douse my top-lights," exclaimed the mate, as he witnessed these
proceedings, "but it is all up with us, sir. They're going to swing us
to the yard-arm."
The horrid truth was too apparent, and Frank was so completely unnerved
that he was compelled to lean against the cabin for support. He was soon
aroused by the voice of the leader of the rebels, who said:
"This is to be done in retaliation for an order issued by Admiral
Porter, stating that he would hang all 'guerrillas,' as he termed them,
who might be caught firing into transports along the river. You can see
the effect of that order right here. Out of a company of a hundred of us
who entered the army at the commencement of the war, you see all that
are left. The remainder have been killed or captured by you gun-boat
men. Those captured have suffered the penalty of that order. They were
no more guerrillas, however, than you are, but were regularly sworn into
the service, and were detailed to harass the enemy in every possible
manner; and, for obeying our orders, some of us have been strung up like
dogs. We shall continue to retaliate on you until our government
receives notice that the order has been countermanded. I will give you
an hour, and at the end of that time you must swing."
"If you must execute us," said Frank, in a husky voice, "why not let us
die like men, and not like criminals?"
"My men would have preferred to be shot," said the rebel, "but were not
allowed the privilege of choosing." So saying, the captain turned on his
heel and walked away, while Frank seated himself on the threshold of the
cabin, and repeated his sentence with a calmness that made him think his
senses were leaving him. Could it be possible that he had heard aright,
and that he was in reality a condemned man? When he had entered the
service, the thought that he should be killed had never once occurred to
him. He had fully and confidently expected that he would be permitted to
live to see the end of the war, and to return home to enjoy the society
of his friends once more. Could it be possible, then, that, after
indulging in such bright anticipations, he must end his life in that
desolate place, away from home and friends, in so terrible a manner? He
could not convince himself that it was a reality. But there was the
tree, with the ropes, and the fatal noose at the end, dangling from the
limb; and there were those blood-thirsty looking men lounging in the
shade, and only waiting until the hour granted by their leader should
expire to begin their horrid work. O, the agony of that moment, when he
could look forward and count the very seconds he had to live! An hour!
How often and how lightly had he spoken of it! For an hour in the life
of one moving about at freedom in the world, not knowing when death will
come, and, as is too often the case, scarcely giving the matter a
moment's thought, is a space of time of very little importance; is
carelessly spoken of, and, when passed, no notice is taken of its
flight. But an hour to a person condemned to die, who has heard his
sentence, and who is bound, and watched over by armed men, that he may
not escape from that sentence; who is in the full possession of all his
faculties; who can look abroad upon the beauties of nature, and feel the
soft breeze of heaven fanning his cheek, but who knows that, at the end
of that time, he will be deprived of all these faculties; that his life
will be suddenly and terribly terminated--in the case of such a person,
who can describe the thoughts that "make up the sum of his heart's
fevered existence?"
It seemed to Frank that scarcely five minutes of the allotted time had
passed, when the leader of the guerrillas arose from the ground where he
had been sitting. The signal was understood by his men, two of whom
approached the prisoners, and conducted them toward the scaffold. The
mate had been encouraged by the example set him by his officer, and both
walked with firm steps; their faces, although pale as death itself,
being as expressionless as marble, and bearing not the slightest trace
of the struggle that was going on within them. Without the least
hesitation they took their stand on a log under the tree, and the fatal
ropes were adjusted. Their farewells had been said, and the leader of
the rebels had made a signal for the log to be removed from under their
feet, when suddenly there was a sound of approaching horsemen, and the
next moment a party of the Wild-cats galloped up, headed by Colonel
Harrison and Lieutenant Somers. A few harshly-spoken orders rung in
Frank's ears; he saw the leader of the guerrillas fall, pierced by a
dozen bullets, and then all was blank to him.
* * * * *
Let us now return to the Wild-cats, whom Frank and the mate had so
unceremoniously deserted.
The escape was not discovered until morning, when the orderly sergeant
went to the cabin to call them. It was scarcely daylight, and quite dark
inside of the cabin, and as the sergeant opened the door, he
vociferated:
"Come, Yanks! get out of this and get your grub!"
The echo of his own voice was the only reply he received. After waiting
a moment, he repeated the summons in a louder tone, and still received
no answer.
"I'll be dog-gone if them ar Yanks don't sleep at the rate of more'n
forty miles an hour," said the sergeant to himself, as he entered the
cabin and commenced feeling around in the dark to find his prisoners.
"Come now, Yanks!" he exclaimed, "none of your tricks. I know you
heered me. Get up, I say, and get your grub, for it is high time we were
movin'."
Still no answer. The rebel finally threw open the window-shutter, and by
the straggling rays of light that came in, he found, to his utter
amazement, that his prisoners were gone. With one bound he reached the
open air, and without paying any attention to the inquiries of the guard
as to what was the cause of his strange behavior, he started for the
house, where he hurriedly asked for the colonel.
"What's the matter now, sergeant?" inquired that gentleman, appearing at
the door with his boots in his hand.
"The prisoners, sir," began the sergeant----
"Well, what's the trouble with them?" asked the colonel, who was very
far from guessing the facts of the case. "Won't the lazy Yankees get up?
Punch 'em with your bayonet a little if they get unruly; that will put
life into them, and keep them civil at the same time."
"I could manage them easy enough, sir, if they were here," answered the
sergeant; "but, sir, they"----
"If they were _here_," repeated the colonel, who now began to suspect
the truth. "If they were here! Have you allowed them to escape?"
"No, sir, we didn't _let_ them; they went without asking us!"
"A plague on you lazy scoundrels," shouted the colonel, in a rage. "Let
loose that blood-hound at once, and pursue them. No; stop! Tell the
officer of the day that I want to see him."
The sergeant started off to execute the order; and the colonel, after
pulling on his boots, entered the house, where Lieutenant Somers and the
people of the plantation were assembled, awaiting breakfast.
"What's the matter, colonel?" inquired the lieutenant. "Any thing
wrong?"
"Don't bother me with your foolish questions now," replied the colonel
roughly, pacing up and down the floor with angry strides. "It's enough
to upset any one's patience. That little Yankee has escaped again."
"Escaped!" repeated all in the room, holding up their hands in
astonishment.
"Yes; escaped--gone--mizzled--cleared out," said the colonel,
frantically flourishing his arms above his head; "and unless I catch
him, which I don't expect to do, I'm short a captain, for he was to have
been exchanged for one of my officers."
At this moment the officer of the day entered, and the colonel, turning
to him, continued:
"That rascally little Yankee has escaped again. I thought I had him safe
this time, but he has succeeded in giving me the slip when I least
expected it. That sailor that we captured with him has gone too. Send a
squad in pursuit of them at once. Use the blood-hound, but hold him in
the leash, and don't injure either of the prisoners if you can avoid
it."
The officer bowed, and left the room; and the colonel, after giving
orders that the case should be investigated, in order to see who was to
blame in allowing the prisoners to escape, mounted his horse, and,
accompanied by Lieutenant Somers, set out in pursuit of the squad, which
had already started and was following the trail of the fugitives, led by
a large blood-hound, which was kept in check by a chain held by one of
the men. In a couple of hours they arrived at the place where Frank and
the mate had been fired upon by the steamer, and here the trail was
lost. After several hours spent in unavailing search, the squad
separated, and, for two days, scoured the country every-where, looking
in vain for traces of the fugitives.
At the end of that time, the colonel, completely disheartened, collected
his forces, and was returning to the plantation, when they were met by a
negro, in a great state of excitement, who anxiously inquired for the
commanding officer.
"Get away from me, boy," shouted the colonel, impatiently, "and don't
bother me now."
"But, sar," persisted the negro, "Massa Thorne done kotched two white
gemman, an' be gwine to kill 'em, shore."
"Bill Thorne in this part of the country again!" said the colonel. "He'd
better keep clear of me. He and his pack of horse-thieves are more
injury to us than a Yankee gun-boat;" and the colonel, without waiting
to hear any more, put spurs to his horse, and galloped off.
"These two white men he caught," said Lieutenant Somers, "what were
they? Yankees?"
The negro replied in the affirmative, and then proceeded to give a full
and complete description of the prisoners, so that the lieutenant knew
in a moment that they were Frank and the mate. After questioning him as
to the locality where the execution was to take place, he galloped down
the road, and soon overtook the colonel, to whom he related the
circumstance. The latter at once ordered part of his men to follow him,
(directing the others to keep on the trail, so that, in case the negro
was misleading them, no time would be lost.) As we have seen, he arrived
just in time to save his prisoners; one moment more, and he would have
been too late.
The guerrillas were so completely surprised at the approach of the
cavalry, and so dismayed at the death of their leader, that they did not
think of retreat until it was too late. The Wild-cats had surrounded
them, and the sight of half a dozen revolvers leveled at their heads
caused them to throw down their weapons and cry for quarter.