Frank on the Lower Mississippi

by Harry Castlemon

  CHAPTER XI.

  The Rival Spies.

  They found the admiral at Natchez, and when Frank had reported hisarrival, he was ordered to take his station at Gaines' Landing--a placenoted for guerrillas--which they reached in safety. For two or threedays, nothing worthy of note transpired, the rebels, if there were anyabout, being careful not to show themselves.

  One night, while Frank was walking the deck, arm-in-arm with his cousin,the officer on watch approached, and said, in a low voice:

  "Look there, sir! What kind of a craft is that?"

  Frank looked in the direction indicated, and an object about the size ofa man's head could be dimly seen in the water, silently but rapidlyapproaching the vessel. It came from toward the nearest shore, and thethought that it was a torpedo instantly flushed through his mind. Takingthe spy-glass from the quarter-master, he leveled it at the object, andcould distinctly see that it was a human head, and that it belonged tosome one who was an excellent swimmer, for he was making rapid progressthrough the water.

  "I don't see any torpedo there," said he, at length, handing the glassto his cousin, "for the fellow, whoever he is, is using both hands."Then raising his it voice, he called out, "Who comes there?"

  "A friend," was the scarcely audible reply.

  "Come on board here."

  "That's just what I want to do," answered the man, who, with a few morestrokes, was near enough to be seized by the quarter-master--who had ranbelow with a lantern--and lifted upon the guards.

  "Who are you, and what are you doing here at this time of night?" askedFrank, as soon as the man had come on deck.

  "My name is William Striker," was the answer, "and I am an escaped Unionscout."

  Frank took the lantern from the quarter-master's hand and held it up, sothat he could obtain a good view of the man's face. He was certain hehad seen it before, but could not remember where.

  "I have a better memory than you, sir," said the man at length. "I haveseen you before. I met you in the trenches at Vicksburg."

  As the man spoke, he produced a bundle of wet papers, from which heselected one that he handed to Frank. It was the appointment of major,and addressed to William Striker, United States Scout. But this was noproof that the man was in reality what he professed to be, for Frankremembered that he had once passed himself off as Lieutenant Somers, ofthe rebel army, and had shown his appointment and orders to prove it. Itwas true that he wore the dress of a Union major, but that might havebeen obtained in the same manner that Frank once got his rebel uniform.There was something suspicious in a man's presenting himself on boardthe vessel at that time of night, and in so uncommon a manner.

  "Well," said Frank, "if you were in the trenches at Vicksburg, tell mesomething that happened there."

  The soldier then told Frank of the experiment of which the latter hadmade use to see "how far off the rebels were," during which he lost hiscap, the rebel who captured it offering to "trade" for it a tatteredslouch-hat with a bullet-hole in it, and informed him that he was thescout who had told him the story of his "partner" Sam, and their raidinto the rebel camp, which resulted in the capture of Colonel Peckham.He also related other little incidents which Frank had not forgotten,and which proved that he was in reality the scout whom he had met in thetrenches, and not a rebel spy, as he had at first feared. Being fullysatisfied on this point, the major was conducted into the cabin, andwhile he was exchanging his wet clothes for some that Frank and Archiehad provided for him, the former ordered his steward to prepare supperfor their guest, for he knew, by experience, that a man who had been aprisoner among the rebels was hungry. The major sat down to the tablewith a most ravenous appetite, and the good things the steward hadprepared rapidly disappeared. When he had finished his meal, in answerto Frank's inquiry how he came to be a prisoner, he gave the followingaccount of his adventures, which he remarked were a "little ahead of anything he had ever gone through."

  "In the first place," said he, "I must tell you what became of mycomrade, Sam, as it was in endeavoring to assist him that I wascaptured. His career as a scout, although an exciting one, full ofstirring adventures and hair-breadth escapes, was brought to a closesoon after the capture of Vicksburg.

  "When the army again took up its line of march, we made severalexcursions into the rebel lines, and one night we stopped at aplantation-house to shelter ourselves from the rain, for it was stormingviolently, and also to see if we could not pick up some information thatmight be of use to us. The only inmate of the house was an old woman,who, believing us to be rebels, talked freely with us on all subjects;and during the conversation, which finally turned upon scouting,informed us that there was a scout in the rebel army who was far aheadof any "Yank" that ever lived. He was described as a daring,quick-witted fellow, and many a disaster that had befallen us was owingto him. As I listened to the stories told of him, I came to theconclusion that there was a good deal of truth in them, and that somespy must indeed have been in our camp, for the woman was acquainted withseveral moves we had made, and which had been defeated, the particularsof which, I thought, were known only to the general and his staff. Thisled me to believe that the scout, whoever he was, staid abouthead-quarters, else how could he obtain so much information.

  "The woman seemed to be well acquainted with him and his movements, andtold us of several of his exploits, which, if true, showed the spy to bea man admirably fitted for his position. I listened attentively to allshe said, in hopes I should learn something of his personal appearance,for I had made up my mind that as soon as I could find out hismovements, he and I would have a meeting, But all I could learn was thathis name was Bob Cole.

  "'Well,' said I,'do you know that as long as I have been in the army, Ihave never seen this man?'"

  "'Haven't yer!' exclaimed the woman, in surprise. 'Wal, come to think, Idon't know as that is so funny, arter all, 'cause he's in the Yankeecamp most of the time, an', as they think he is one of them, he goes an'comes when he pleases, He's a smart one, I tell yer. Some of the boystold me that he is a goin' to bring in a prisoner this week, in theshape of a Yankee scout an' spy. Bill Striker is his name, I believe. Doyer know him?'

  "I couldn't help starting when I found that I was known to this notedrebel; but the woman didn't notice it, and I replied:

  "Oh, yes! I've heard of him.'

  "'Cordin' to all accounts,' continued the woman, 'this Yankee an't muchbehind Bob, for he has often been in our camp, an' he don't allers goback empty-handed. If he ketches a feller in an out-of-the-way place, heis sartin to gobble him up. But his time is most up now, 'kase Bob neverfails in any thing when he onct gets his mind sot on it, an' when Iheerd that he was a goin' to ketch this Yank, I believed he would do it.

  "It was very encouraging to sit there and listen to a person talk soconfidently of my speedy capture; but, as it happened, I had been put onmy guard, and another thing, I didn't have quite as much faith in BobCole as his rebel friends had, and was in no way concerned about hisbeing able to fulfill his promise. It set me to thinking, however, and Idetermined I would not sleep sound until I had found him, and then therewould be a prisoner taken, sure; but it wouldn't be Bill Striker.

  "'What kind of a looking man is he?' I asked, at length.

  "'Oh, he's a'--

  "Just at this moment we heard several horsemen going by the house, andSam exclaimed:

  "'There are some of our boys now. Perhaps we are wanted.'

  "I knew well enough what he meant. Although we had frequently met rebelswhile scouting about through their lines, we were not at all fond ofthem, and did not want to be in their company if we could help it.

  "Those who had just gone by might at any moment return and enter thehouse; and besides, it occurred to me that if I was so well known to therebel spy, I was not safe except in our own camp. I might, at any time,run into a trap he had laid for me. At any rate, we thought it best toget within our lines as soon as possible; so, without waiting to hearthe woman's description of Bob Cole, we bid her g
ood night.

  "We reached our camp in safety, reported our return, and the nextmorning I walked up to headquarters, where I remained until dark,talking with the general's hostler, and keeping an ear open for news,but was obliged to go away without hearing any. The next day I was keptbusy carrying dispatches, and when I returned at night, I learned thatSam had gone into the rebel camp, as they were making some movement, theparticulars of which the general was anxious to learn. I thought nothingof it at the time, but when night came and he did not return, I began tofear that he had been captured or killed. It then occurred to me that ifI could get back to the house where lived the woman who had told us ofBob Cole, I might learn something that would be to my advantage; so Iput on my rebel uniform, and in a few moments was out of the lines. Ireached the house in safety, and was delighted to find there were norebels about. The woman seemed glad to see me, brought me a cup of waterto drink, and after a few minutes' conversation exclaimed:

  "'Wal, they've gobbled up one of them fellers!'

  "'Which one?' I asked.

  "'I don't know his name. Bob done it. He seed him leave the Yankee camp,an' follered him, an' while they were ridin' along together, he tuk outhis pistol an' told the Yank to give up his we'pons; but the fellerwouldn't do it, an' Bob had to shoot him. But he didn't kill him; heonly shot him through the shoulder. He's sartin to be hung.'

  "You can easily imagine my feelings as I sat there and listened to this.It required a strong effort to subdue my feelings.

  "'How does Bob Cole disguise himself?' I asked, in as firm a voice as Icould command. 'What does he do in the Yankee camp?'

  "'That's what nobody, 'sides Bob an' the general, knows,' answered thewoman. 'Didn't you never see him? He's a little man, has black hair andeyes, wears no whiskers, and allers rides a little gray horse. He'ssmart, I tell yer.'

  "After talking awhile longer with the woman without learning any thingfurther, I mounted my horse and returned to camp. While I was eating mysupper, I called to mind all the scouts with whom I was acquainted, butnot one of them answered to the description of Bob Cole. There was oneman in camp, however, who _did_ answer the description, and thatwas the general's hostler. Could it be possible that he was the spy?

  "At this moment an orderly entered to tell me that I was wanted athead-quarters. I followed him to the general's tent, received my orders,and began to get ready for the journey. As I came out of the tent I metthe hostler, who inquired:

  "'Are you off again to-night, Bill?'

  "I replied in the affirmative, and he continued:

  "'Well, good luck to you. Don't let the rebs get hold of you.'

  "I mounted my horse and rode out of the camp, fully satisfied that if hewas the spy I would soon know it.

  "The night was very dark, but I had traveled the road often enough to bewell acquainted with it, and in an hour after I left our camp, I hadpassed the rebel sentries, and was fairly within their lines. As I wasriding quietly along, keeping a good look-out on all sides, and pausingnow and then to listen, I suddenly heard the clatter of horses' hoofsbehind me, and some one called out, in a low voice:

  "Bill! Bill Striker!'

  "I instantly stopped, and a moment afterward up galloped the hostler.

  "'Don't make so much noise, Jim,' said I, nastily. 'But what on earthbrings you here? Where are you going?'

  "'I'm after you,' he replied. 'The general told me to overtake you, andsay that he had neglected to give you some very important orders.'

  "All this while he had been coming nearer and nearer to me, and havingnow got within reach, he suddenly seized my bridle, and presenting arevolver, exclaimed:

  "'Bill Striker, your scouting is up now! You're my prisoner!'

  "If he imagined that he had taken me by surprise he was very muchmistaken. In an instant I had knocked aside the revolver, whichexploded, sending the ball harmlessly past my head, and in a moment moreI had wrested the weapon from him. Then, almost before he had time tothink twice, I lifted him off his horse and laid him across my saddle,in front of me, as if he had been a bag of corn. He was very strong, aswiry as an eel, and struggled most desperately; but I had him atdisadvantage, and when I thought of Sam, who was now a prisoner throughthe treachery of this fellow, I felt as if I had the strength of tenmen. By the time I had fairly got hold of him, I was tearing down theroad toward our lines, while his own horse had gone on toward the rebelcamp. My only danger was in being cut off by the pickets. These passed,I would be safe, for I had no fears of being overtaken. There was notime to avoid them in jumping over fences and running through fields,for I knew that the report of the revolver had been heard, and that,unless I could reach our lines in a very few moments, Bob Cole wouldagain be a free man and I would be the prisoner. I used my spurs freely,and my horse, which seemed to understand that he was called upon to makeuse of his best speed, carried us over the ground at a tremendous rate.In a short time I came within sight of a fire burning by the side of theroad. I heard a loud command to halt, followed by the noise of a bulletas it whistled by my head, and the pickets were passed in safety. Halfan hour afterward I dismounted in front of the general's tent, anddelivered up my prisoner. You can't imagine how surprised our boys wereto learn that we had had a rebel spy in our camp so long without knowingit. Bob Cole had played his cards remarkably well, and if Sam and I hadnot stopped at that house to get out of the rain, there's no knowing howmuch longer he would have been at liberty. But he was safe in theguard-house at last, and I must confess that I breathed more freely. Ifhe was the only rebel who knew me, there was now no danger of runninginto a trap laid for my capture. My first hard work must be to attemptSam's release. I knew it would be worse than useless to return to therebel camp that night, for it had been aroused, and my own chances ofescape would be none of the surest; so I let two days pass beforesetting out, and then I did not follow my usual course, but took aroundabout way to get behind their camp, where I would not run so muchrisk of meeting the pickets.

  "I reached the lines in safety, and as I was riding along by the side ofthe road, keeping my horse on the grass, to make as little noise aspossible, I heard horsemen approaching, and presently up galloped aparty of rebels. I thought they would pass without discovering me, butwas mistaken, for one of them drew in his horse and exclaimed--

  "'Wal, ef here an't another,' and I was speedily surrounded, andcommanded to 'hand over my we'pons.'

  "'Look here, boys,' said I, 'I've got a pass,' and I made a motion toproduce it.

  "'Oh, we don't want to see your pass,' said the corporal who had chargeof the squad; 'we've seed a dozen to-night that wasn't no 'count. Youmust go to the guard-house, 'cause you know it's the general's ordersthat nobody goes out o' camp.'

  "This showed me that I was not suspected of being a Federal, but wasarrested as one of their own men who was endeavoring to get out of thelines.

  "'I know it's mighty hard,' continued the corporal, 'not to let a fellergo home, when p'rhaps it an't five miles off; but orders is orders, youknow. Howsomever, you wont hev no trouble to get out o' the guard-house,'cause--by gum! ef here an't some more,' and, as he spoke, he left me,and rode up to three men who were crouching in the fence-corner by theroadside. These were speedily secured, and we went on our way toward theguard-house. The rebel army, it appeared, was encamped in a part of thecountry where a number of regiments had been raised, and the men,anxious to see home and friends once more, were deserting byhundreds--'taking French,' as we call it. As we rode along, I learnedsomething, from the conversation of my captors, that made me wish I hadnever taken Bob Cole prisoner, and that was, that Sam had died from theeffects of the wound he had received while resisting the rebel. Thiswas, perhaps, better than being hung, but how I wished I had known itbefore taking the spy to camp. I had put myself in danger without beingable to be of any assistance to Sam, and I now set my wits to work toconjure up some plan for escape.

  "Finally, after capturing one more rebel who was about to 'take French,'we reached the guard house,
which was a rickety old barn. As we enteredthe door, the rebels, with whom the house was filled, greeted us withloud yells, and slapped us on our backs, as though they looked upon ourcapture as a most excellent joke. The majority of our fellow-prisonerswere confined for attempting to leave the camp to visit their friends;but putting them in the guard-house was only a farce, for I had not beenin the room fifteen minutes before I saw three men make their escapethrough a window. I determined to try the same thing; so, after waitinga few moments, to see that they were not brought back, I walked up tothe window and looked out. A sentinel was standing at the corner of thebuilding, but as soon as he saw me he shouldered his gun and walked off,whistling. It was plain that he had no objections to my making my escapeif I wished to do so, and, as soon as he was out of sight, I crawled outof the window, dropped to the ground, and walked off with an appearanceof unconcern I was very far from feeling.

  "I had lost my horse, but that did not trouble me, for the camp was notfar off, and I had no fears of pursuit. I had scarcely got safely out oftheir lines, however, before I became aware that I was followed. Iturned and saw a party of men, who, keeping their horses on the grass atthe side of the road, had succeeded in getting within pistol-shot beforeI heard them. As I sprang over a fence I heard my name pronounced,followed by the report of several revolvers and carbines, that sent thebullets about me altogether too close for comfort.

  "Well, to make a long story short, I laid about in the woods for amonth, making a raid now and then on a chicken-roost, to supply mycommissary department; but all this while the rebels followed me likeblood-hounds. I had gone miles out of my way--in fact, I did not knowwhere I was, until one day I was in with a party of guerrillas. I toldthem I was a reb on French leave, and on my way to visit my friends, wholived on the opposite side of the river. From them I learned that theMississippi was sixty miles distant, and was also informed that therewas a gun-boat at Gaines's Landing, and was advised to keep out of herway. This was the best news I had heard in a long time, and I determinedto make the best of my way here. I came off to the vessel in the night,because I did not know but there might be rebels on the watch, and as Iwas entirely unarmed, I did not want to run any risks. Since leaving ourcamp, I have traveled nearly two hundred miles without a weapon of anykind, not even a pocket-knife; and if either of you has ever been aprisoner, you can easily imagine that I am overjoyed to find myself safeamong friends once more. And now, captain," continued the scout, "I havea proposition to make you. The leader of these guerrillas whom I metback in the country makes his head-quarters in a desertedplantation-house about forty miles from the river. He never has morethan two or three men with him, the others being scattered over thecountry, stealing horses from both rebels and Union people. Now, I wouldlike to help capture him and break up his band of guerrillas, for he's aperfect demon, and never takes any prisoners. There is a house about tenmiles from here where we can get all the horses we need, and three orfour men could do the job nicely. This guerrilla's brother was formerlythe captain of the band, but he was killed by a party of rebels, just ashe was about to hang a couple of Union prisoners he had taken--gun-boatmen, I believe. His name is Thorne, and--what's the matter, captain?"

  Frank had started upon hearing the name of the guerrilla chief at whosehands he and the mate had so nearly suffered death, and from which theywere rescued by the Wild-cats, and just as he finished relating thestory of the "Close Shave," the orderly entered the cabin and announcedthe dispatch-boat "General Lyon" approaching.