CHAPTER V. THE SINGER OF THE HILLS
As the engine whistled for the last time Dick sprang upon a car-step,one hand holding to the rail while with the other he returned thepowerful grip of Red Blaze, who with his own unconfined hand grasped thebridles of the three horses, which had served them so well. Petty hadreceived a reward thrust upon him by Colonel Newcomb, but Dick knewthat the mountaineer's chief recompense was the success achieved in theperilous task chosen for him.
"Good-bye, Mr. Mason," said Red Blaze, "I'm proud to have knowed you an'the sergeant, an' to have been your comrade in a work for the Union."
"Without you we should have failed."
"It jest happened that I knowed the way. It seems to me that there'sa heap, a tremenjeous heap, in knowin' the way. It gives you an awfuladvantage. Now you an' your regiment are goin' down thar in themKentucky mountains. They're mighty wild, winter's here an' the marchin'will be about as bad as it could be. Them's mostly Pennsylvania men withyou, an' they don't know a thing 'bout that thar region. Like as notyou'll be walkin' right straight into an ambush, an' that'll be the endof you an' them Pennsylvanians."
"You're a cheerful prophet, Red Blaze."
"I meant if you didn't take care of yourselves an' keep a good lookout,which I know, of course, that you're goin' to do. I was jest statin'the other side of the proposition, tellin' what would happen to keerlesspeople, but Colonel Newcomb an' Major Hertford ain't keerless people.Good-bye, Mr. Mason. Mebbe I'll see you ag'in before this war is over."
"Good-bye, Red Blaze. I truly hope so."
The train was moving now and with a last powerful grasp of a friendlyhand Dick went into the coach. It was the first in the train. ColonelNewcomb and Major Hertford sat near the head of it, and Warner was justsitting down not far behind them. Dick took the other half of the seatwith the young Vermonter, who said, speaking in a whimsical tone:
"You fill me with envy, Dick. Why wasn't it my luck to go with you,Sergeant Whitley, and the man they call Red Blaze on that errand andhelp bring back with you the message of President Lincoln? But I heardwhat our red friend said to you at the car-step. There's a powerful lotin knowing the way, knowing where you're going, and what's along everyinch of the road. My arithmetic tells me that it is often fifty per centof marching and fighting."
"I think you are right," said Dick.
A little later he was sound asleep in his seat, and at the command ofColonel Newcomb he was not disturbed. His had been a task, taxing to theutmost both body and mind, and, despite his youth and strength, it wouldtake nature some time to replace what had been worn away.
He slept on while the boys in the train talked and laughed. Sterndiscipline was not yet enforced in either army, nor did Colonel Newcombconsider it necessary here. These lads, so lately from the schoolsand farms, had won a victory and they had received the thanks of thePresident. They had a right to talk about it among themselves and alittle vocal enthusiasm now might build up courage and spirit for agreater crisis later.
The colonel, moreover, gave glances of approval and sympathy to hisgallant young aide, who in the seat next to the window with his headagainst the wall slept so soundly. All the afternoon Dick slept on, hisbreathing regular and steady. The train rattled and rumbled through thehigh mountains, and on the upper levels the snow was falling fast.
Darkness came, and supper was served to the troops, but at the colonel'scommand Dick was not awakened. Nature had not yet finished her task ofrepairing. There was worn tissue still to be replaced, and the nerveshad not yet recovered their full steadiness.
So Dick slept on, while the night deepened and the snow continued todrive against the window panes. Nor did he awake until morning, when thetrain stopped at a tiny station in the hills. There was no snow here,but the sun, just rising, threw no heat, and icicles were hanging fromevery cliff. Dispatches were waiting for Colonel Newcomb, and afterbreakfast he announced to his staff:
"I have orders from Washington to divide my regiment. The Southernforces are operating at three points in Kentucky. They are gathering atColumbus on the Mississippi, at Bowling Green in the south, and herein the mountains there is a strong division under an officer namedZollicoffer. Scattered forces of our men, the principal one led by aVirginian named Thomas, are endeavoring to deal with Zollicoffer. TheSecretary of War regrets the division of the regiment, but he thinks itnecessary, as all our detached forces must be strengthened. I go on withthe main body of the regiment to join Grant, near the mouth of the Ohio.You, Major Hertford, will take three companies and march south in searchof Thomas, but be careful that you are not snapped up by the rebels onthe way. And if you can get volunteers and join Thomas with your forceincreased threefold, so much the better."
"I shall try my best, sir," said Major Hertford, "and thank you for thishonor."
Dick and Warner stood by without a word, but Dick cast an appealing lookat Colonel Newcomb.
"Yes, I know," said the Colonel, who caught the glance. "This is yourstate, and you wish to go with Major Hertford. You are to do so. So isyour friend, Lieutenant Warner, and, Major Hertford, I also lend to youSergeant Whitley, who is a man of much experience and who has alreadyproved himself to be of great value."
The three saluted and were grateful. They longed for action, which theybelieved would come more quickly with Major Hertford's column. A littlelater, when military form permitted it, the two boys thanked ColonelNewcomb in words.
"Maybe you won't thank me a few days from now," said the colonel alittle grimly, "but I am hopeful that our plans here in Eastern Kentuckywill prove successful, and that before long you will be able to join thegreat forces in the western part of the state. You are both good boysand now, good-bye."
The preparations for the mountain column, as Dick and Warner soon calledit, had been completed. They were on foot, but they were well armed,well clothed, and they had supplies loaded in several wagons, purchasedhastily in the village. A dozen of the strong mountaineers volunteeredto be drivers and guides, and the major was glad to have them. Later,several horses were secured for the officers, but, meanwhile, the trainwas ready to depart.
Colonel Newcomb waved them farewell, the faithful and valiant Canbyopened the throttle, and the train steamed away. The men in the littlecolumn, although eager for their new task, watched its departure with acertain sadness at parting with their comrades. The train became smallerand smaller, then it was only a spiral of smoke, and that, too, soondied on the clear western horizon.
"And now to find Thomas!" said Major Hertford, who retained Dick andWarner on his staff, practically its only members, in fact. "It looksodd to hunt through the mountains for a general and his army, but we'vegot it to do, and we'll do it."
The horses for the officers were obtained at the suggestion of SergeantWhitley, and the little column turned southward through the wintryforest. Dick and Warner were riding strong mountain ponies, but attimes, and in order to show that they considered themselves no betterthan the others, they dismounted and walked over the frozen ground.The greatest tasks were with the wagons containing the ammunition andsupplies. The mountain roads were little more than trails, sometimeshalf blocked with ice or snow and then again deep in mud. The winterwas severe. Storms of rain, hail, sleet and snow poured upon them, but,fortunately, they were marching through continuous forests, and theskilled mountaineers, under any circumstances, knew how to build fires,by the side of which they could dry themselves, and sleep warmly atnight.
They also heard much gossip as they advanced to meet General Thomas,who had been sent from Louisville to command the Northern troops in theKentucky mountains. Thomas was a Virginian, a member of the old regulararmy, a valiant, able, and cautious man, who chose to abide by theUnion. Many other Virginians, some destined to be as famous as he, anda few more so, wondered why he had not gone with his seceding state, andcriticised him much, but Thomas, chary of speech, hung to his belief,and proved it by action.
Dick learned, too, that the Southern force operating agains
t Thomas,while actively led by Zollicoffer, was under the nominal command ofone of his own Kentucky Crittendens. Here he saw again how terriblyhis beloved state was divided, like other border states. GeneralCrittenden's father was a member of the Federal Congress at Washington,and one of his brothers was a general also, but on the other side. Buthe was to see such cases over and over again, and he was to see them toa still greater and a wholesale degree, when the First Maryland regimentof the North and the First Maryland regiment of the South, recruitedfrom the same district, should meet face to face upon the terrible fieldof Antietam.
But Antietam was far in the future, and Dick's mind turned from thecases of brother against brother to the problems of the icy wildernessthrough which they were moving, in a more or less uncertain manner.Sometimes they were sent on false trails, but their loyal mountaineersbrought them back again. They also found volunteers, and MajorHertford's little force swelled from three hundred to six hundred. Inthe main, the mountaineers were sympathetic, partly through devotionto the Union, and partly through jealousy of the more prosperouslowlanders.
One day Major Hertford sent Dick, Warner, and Sergeant Whitley, aheadto scout. He had recognized the ability of the two lads, and also theirgreat friendship for Sergeant Whitley. It seemed fitting to him thatthe three should be nearly always together, and he watched them withconfidence, as they rode ahead on the icy mountain trail and thendisappeared from sight.
Dick and his friends had learned, at mountain cabins which they hadpassed, that the country opened out further on into a fine littlevalley, and when they reached the crest of a hill somewhat higher thanthe others, they verified the truth of the statement. Before them laythe coziest nook they had yet seen in the mountains, and in the centerof it rose a warm curl of smoke from the chimney of a house, muchsuperior to that of the average mountaineer. The meadows and corn landson either side of a noble creek were enclosed in good fences. Everythingwas trim and neat.
The three rode down the slope toward the house, but halfway to thebottom they reined in their ponies and listened. Some one was singing.On the thin wintry air a deep mellow voice rose and they distinctlyheard the words:
Soft o'er the fountain, ling'ring falls the southern moon, Far o'er the mountain breaks the day too soon. In thy dark eyes' splendor, where the warm light loves to dwell, Weary looks yet tender, speak their fond farewell. 'Nita, Juanita! Ask thy soul if we should part, 'Nita, Juanita! Lean thou on my heart.
It was a wonderful voice that they heard, deep, full, and mellow, allthe more wonderful because they heard it there in those lone mountains.The ridges took up the echo, and gave it back in tones softened butexquisitely haunting.
The three paused and looked at one another. They could not see thesinger. He was hidden from them by the dips and swells of the valley,but they felt that here was no common man. No common mind, or at leastno common heart, could infuse such feeling into music. As they listenedthe remainder of the pathetic old air rose and swelled through theridges:
When in thy dreaming, moons like these shall shine again, And daylight beaming prove thy dreams are vain, Wilt thou not, relenting, for thy absent lover sigh? In thy heart consenting to a prayer gone by! 'Nita, Juanita! Let me linger by thy side! 'Nita, Juanita! Be thou my own fair bride.
"I'm curious to see that singer," said Warner. "I heard grand opera oncein Boston, just before I started to the war, but I never heard anythingthat sounds finer than this. Maybe time and place help to the extent offifty per cent, but, at any rate, the effect is just the same."
"Come on," said Dick, "and we'll soon find our singer, whoever he is."
The three rode at a rapid pace until they reached the valley. Therethey drew rein, as they saw near them a tall man, apparently aboutforty years of age, mending a fence, helped by a boy of heavy build andpowerful arms. The man glanced up, saw the blue uniforms worn by thethree horsemen, and went peacefully on with his fence-mending. He alsocontinued to sing, throwing his soul into the song, and both work andsong proceeded as if no one was near.
He lifted the rails into place with mighty arms, but never ceased tosing. The boy who helped him seemed almost his equal in strength, but heneither sang nor spoke. Yet he smiled most of the time, showing rows ofexceedingly strong, white teeth.
"They seem to me to be of rather superior type," said Dick. "Maybe wecan get useful information from them."
"I judge that the singer will talk about almost everything except whatwe want to know," said the shrewd and experienced sergeant, "but we cancertainly do no harm by speaking to him. Of course they have seen us. Nodoubt they saw us before we saw them."
The three rode forward, saluted politely and the fence-menders,stopping their work, saluted in the same polite fashion. Then they stoodexpectant.
"We belong to a detachment which is marching southward to join the Unionarmy under General Thomas," said Dick. "Perhaps you could tell us thebest road."
"I might an' ag'in I mightn't, stranger. If you don't talk much younever have much to take back. If I knew where that army is it wouldbe easy for me to tell you, but if I didn't know I couldn't. Now, thequestion is, do I know or don't I know? Do you think you can decide itfor me stranger?"
It was impossible for Dick or the sergeant to take offense. The man'sgaze was perfectly frank and open and his eyes twinkled as he spoke.The boy with him smiled widely, showing both rows of his powerful whiteteeth.
"We can't decide it until we know you better," said Dick in a lighttone.
"I'm willin' to tell you who I am. My name is Sam Jarvis, an' thislunkhead here is my nephew, Ike Simmons, the son of my sister, who keepsmy house. Now I want to tell you, young stranger, that since this warbegan and the Yankees and the Johnnies have taken a notion to shoot upone another, people who would never have thought of doin' it before,have come wanderin' into these mountains. But you can get a hint about'em sometimes. Young man, do you want me to tell you your name?"
"Tell me my name!" responded Dick in astonishment. "Of course you can'tdo it! You never saw or heard of me before."
"Mebbe no," replied Jarvis, with calm confidence, "but all the sameyour name is Dick Mason, and you come from a town in Kentucky calledPendleton. You've been serving with the Yanks in the East, an' you've acousin, named Harry Kenton, who's been servin' there also, but with theJohnnies. Now, am I a good guesser or am I just a plum' ignorant fool?"
Dick stared at him in deepening amazement.
"You do more than guess," he replied. "You know. Everything that yousaid is true."
"Tell me this," said Jarvis. "Was that cousin of yours, Harry Kenton,killed in the big battle at Bull Run? I've been tremenjeously anxiousabout him ever since I heard of that terrible fight."
"He was not. I have not seen him since, but I have definite news nowthat he passed safely through the battle."
Sam Jarvis and his nephew Ike breathed deep sighs of relief.
"I'm mighty glad to hear it," said Jarvis, "I shorely liked that boy,Harry, an' I think I'll like you about as well. It don't matter to methat you're on different sides, bein' as I ain't on any side at allmyself, nor is this lunkhead, Ike, my nephew."
"How on earth did you know me?"
"'Light, an' come into the house an' I'll tell you. You an' yourpardners look cold an' hungry. There ain't danger of anybody taking yourhosses, 'cause you can hitch 'em right at the front door. Besides, I'vegot an old grandmother in the house, who'd like mighty well to see you,Mr. Mason."
Dick concluded that it was useless to ask any more questions just yet,and he, Warner and the sergeant, dismounting and leading their horses,walked toward the house with Jarvis and Ike. Jarvis, who seemedsingularly cheerful, lifted up his voice and sang:
Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie, Like a flower, thy spirit did depart, Thou art gone, alas! like the many That have bloomed in the summer of my heart. Shall we never more behold thee? Never hear thy winning voice again? When the spring time comes, gentle Annie? When the wild flowers are scatt
ered o'er the plain?
It seemed to Dick that the man sang spontaneously, and the deep, mellowvoice always came back in faint and dying echoes that moved him ina singular manner. All at once the war with its passions and carnagefloated away. Here was a little valley fenced in from the battle-worldin which he had been living. He breathed deeply and as the eyes ofJarvis caught his a sympathetic glance passed between them.
"Yes," said Jarvis, as if he understood completely, "the war goes aroundus. There is nothing to fight about here. But come into the house.This is my sister, the mother of that lunkhead, Ike, and here is mygrandmother."
He paused before the bent figure of an old, old woman, sitting in arocking chair beside the chimney, beside which a fire glowed and blazed.Her chin rested on one hand, and she was staring into the coals.
"Grandmother," said Jarvis very gently, "the great-grandson of thegreat Henry Ware that you used to know was here last spring, and now thegreat-grandson of his friend, Paul Cotter, has come, too."
The withered form straightened and she stood up. Fire came into the old,old eyes that regarded Dick so intently.
"Aye," she said, "you speak the truth, grandson. It is Paul Cotter's ownface. A gentle man he was, but brave, and the greatest scholar. I shouldhave known that when Henry Ware's great-grandson came Paul Cotter's,too, would come soon. I am proud for this house to have sheltered youboth."
She put both her hands on his shoulders, and stood up very straight,her face close to his. She was a tall woman, above the average height ofman, and her eyes were on a level with Dick's.
"It is true," she said, "it is he over again. The eyes are his, and themouth and the nose are the same. This house is yours while you chooseto remain, and my grandchildren and my great-grandson will do for youwhatever you wish."
Dick noticed that her grammar and intonation were perfect. Many of theVirginians and Marylanders who emigrated to Kentucky in that far-offborder time were people of cultivation and refinement.
After these words of welcome she turned from him, sat down in her chairand gazed steadily into the coals. Everything about her seemed to floataway. Doubtless her thoughts ran on those dim early days, when theIndians lurked in the canebrake and only the great borderers stoodbetween the settlers and sure death.
Dick began to gather from the old woman's words a dim idea of what hadoccurred. Harry Kenton must have passed there, and as they went intothe next room where food and coffee were placed before them, Jarvisexplained.
"Your cousin, Harry Kenton, came through here last spring on his way toVirginia," he said. "He came with me an' this lunkhead, Ike, all theway from Frankfort and mostly up the Kentucky River. Grandmother wasdreaming and she took him at first for Henry Ware, his very self. Shesaluted him and called him the great governor. It was a wonderful thingto see, and it made me feel just a little bit creepy for a second ortwo. Mebbe you an' your cousin, Harry Kenton, are Henry Ware an' PaulCotter, their very selves come back to earth. It looks curious that bothof you should wander to this little place hid deep in the mountains. Butit's happened all the same. I s'pose you've just been moved 'round thatway by the Supreme Power that's bigger than all of us, an' that shiftsus about to suit plans made long ago. But how I'm runnin' on! Fall to,friends--I can't call you strangers, an' eat an' drink. The winterair on the mountains is powerful nippin' an' your blood needs warmin'often."
The boys and the sergeant obeyed him literally and with energy. Jarvissat by approvingly, taking an occasional bite or drink with them.Meanwhile they gathered valuable information from him. A Northerncommander named Garfield had defeated the Southern forces under HumphreyMarshall in a smart little battle at a place called Middle Creek. Dickknew this Humphrey Marshall well. He lived at Louisville and was a greatfriend of his uncle, Colonel Kenton. He had been a brilliant and daringcavalry officer in the Mexican War, doing great deeds at BuenaVista, but now he was elderly and so enormously stout that he lackedefficiency.
Jarvis added that after their defeat at Middle Creek the Southerners hadgathered their forces on or near the Cumberland River about Mill Springand that they had ten thousand men. Thomas with a strong Northern force,coming all the way from the central part of the state, was already deepin the mountains, preparing to meet him.
"Remember," said Jarvis, "that I ain't takin' no sides in this warmyself. If people come along an' ask me to tell what I know I tell it to'em, be they Yank or Reb. Now, I wish good luck to you, Mr. Mason, an' Iwish the same to your cousin, Mr. Kenton."
Dick, Warner and the sergeant finished the refreshments and rose forthe return journey. They thanked Jarvis, and when they saw that he wouldtake no pay, they did not insist, knowing that it would offend him.Dick said good-bye to the ancient woman and once again she rose, put herhands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes.
"Paul Cotter was a good man," she said, "and you who have his blood inyour veins are good, too. I can see it in something that lies back inyour eyes."
She said not another word, but sat down in the chair and stared oncemore into the coals, dreaming of the far day when the great bordererssaved her and others like her from the savages, and thinking little ofthe mighty war that raged at the base of her hills.
The boys and the sergeant rode fast on the return trail. They knew thatMajor Hertford would push forward at all speed to join Thomas, whom theycould now locate without much difficulty. Jarvis and Ike had resumedtheir fence-mending, but when the trees hid the valley from them amighty, rolling song came to the ears of Dick, Warner and the sergeant:
They bore him away when the day had fled, And the storm was rolling high, And they laid him down in his lonely bed By the light of an angry sky. The lightning flashed, and the wild sea lashed The shore with its foaming wave, And the thunder passed on the rushing blast As it howled o'er the rover's grave.
"That man's no fool," said Dick.
"No, he ain't," said the sergeant, with decision, "nor is that nephewIke of his that he calls a lunkhead. Did you notice, Mr. Mason, that theboy never spoke a word while we was there? Them that don't say anythingnever have anything to take back."
They rode hard now, and soon reached Major Hertford with their news. Onthe third day thereafter they entered a strong Union camp, commandedby a man named Garfield, the young officer who had won the victory atMiddle Creek.
The Guns of Shiloh: A Story of the Great Western Campaign Page 7