CHAPTER XIV.
Chased by Blood-Hounds.
The moon had gone down, the stars were hidden by thick, heavy clouds,and it was so dark that it was impossible to distinguish the nearestobjects. Every thing was as silent as death; but this did not affectthe vigilance of Pomp, who led the way with noiseless steps, pausing,now and then, to listen. They met with no difficulty, however, and,in a few moments, the plantation was left behind, and they enteredthe swamp. It was a chilly, gloomy place, and the darkness wasimpenetrable; but Frank relied implicitly on his guide, who seemedto understand what he was about, and kept as close behind him aspossible.
For an hour they traveled without speaking; at length Pomp stopped onthe bank of a narrow but deep stream.
"Can you swim, young massa?" he inquired, turning to Frank.
"Yes, like a duck," was the reply.
"I's mighty glad to h'ar it," said Pomp, "'cause den you're safe. ButI's been mighty oneasy 'bout it, 'cause, if you can't swim, you'rekotched, shore. Now," he continued, "I must leave you here, 'cause Idon't want to let any one know dat I's been away from de plantation.You must cross dis creek, and foller dat road," pointing to a narrow,well-beaten bridle-path on the opposite bank, "an' dat will lead youstraight to de Red Ribber. You must keep a good watch, now, 'causeyou'll h'ar something 'fore long dat'll make you wish you had nebberbeen born. I's heered it often, an' I knows what it is. Good-by; an'de Lor' bress an' protect you;" and, before Frank could speak, Pomphad disappeared.
Alone! The young hero had never before comprehended the full meaningof that single word, as he did now. Alone, in an almost unbrokenforest, which was filled with enemies, who were thirsting for hisblood; with no one to whom he could go for advice or assistance. Is itto be wondered that he felt lonely and discouraged?
He looked back to the scenes through which he had passed: the fight;his capture; the long, weary march, under a burning sun; his treatmentin the prison, the escape, and the pursuit; the hand-to-hand strugglein the woods; all came up vividly before him, and he wondered how hehad escaped unhurt; and, then, what had the future in store for him?The warning of the faithful Pomp was still ringing in his ears, anda dread of impending evil, which he could not shake off, continuallypressed upon him. For the first time since his escape, Frank wascompletely unnerved. Seating himself on the ground, he covered hisface with his hands, and cried like a child.
But this burst of weakness did not continue long, for he did notforget that he was still in danger. Hastily dashing the tears from hiseyes, he rose to his feet, and prepared to cross the stream. Holdinghis rifle and ammunition above his head with one hand, he swam withthe other, reached the opposite bank in safety, and followed the pathinto the swamp. A mile further on, he came to another stream, andwas making preparations to cross it, when he was startled by a voice,which sounded from the opposite bank:
"Who goesh dere?"
Instead of replying to the challenge, Frank sprang behind a tree, and,looking across the stream, discovered a tall, powerfully-built man,dressed in "butternut" clothes, holding his rifle in the hollow of hisarm. In an instant Frank's gun was at his shoulder, and his finger wasalready pressing the trigger, when the man exclaimed:
"What for you shoot? I be a friend."
Frank, although fearful of treachery, lowered his gun, and theDutchman, moving out of the bushes, leaned on his rifle, and inquired:
"Where you go? I guess you been a gun-boat feller; ain't it?"
"Yes," answered Frank, "I once belonged to a gun-boat. But who areyou?"
"Me? Oh, I was a captain in the army. Sherman gets licked atWicksburg, an' I gets took brisoner; an' purty quick me an' anoderfeller runs away. Here he is;" and, as the Dutchman spoke, a manwearing a shabby Confederate uniform appeared.
Frank's mind was made up in an instant. Beyond a doubt this was buta stratagem to capture him. But he resolved that he would neversurrender, as long as he had sufficient strength to handle his rifle.
"Well, my young friend," exclaimed the man in the rebel uniform, "thisis a nice dress for a Federal officer to be wearing, isn't it?"
"I don't believe that either of you are officers in the Federal army,"answered Frank. "It's my opinion that you are both rebels. If it isyour intention to attempt to capture me, I may as well tell you thatyour expectations will never be realized, for I shall never be takenalive;" and Frank handled the lock of his gun in a very significantmanner.
"I admire your grit," said the man, "and I acknowledge that you havestrong grounds for suspicion. But we are really escaped prisoners."
"Yah," chimed in the Dutchman, "I shwear dat is so."
"It is no fault of ours," continued the man, "that we are wearingrebel uniforms; for we were compelled to exchange with our captors,and were obliged to accept these, or go without any."
"What regiment do you belong to?"
"The One Hundred and Twenty-ninth Illinois Infantry, Company 'K.' Iformerly belonged to the Forty-sixth Maine."
"Do you know any of the boys belonging to Company 'B,' of theForty-sixth Maine Regiment?"
"Oh, yes," replied the man, "I know Harry and George Butler, Ben Lake,and, in fact, all the boys; for I once belonged to that very company.My home is only twenty miles from Lawrence, the place where thecompany was raised."
Frank did not stop to ask any more questions, for he was satisfiedthat he had fallen in with friends. How his heart bounded at meetingone who had lived so near his own home! He hastily crossed the stream,and, seizing the man's hand, shook it heartily.
"I am overjoyed at meeting with you, sir," he said, in a voice chokedwith emotion. "Perhaps I owe you an apology; but you will acknowledgethat it is best to be on the safe side."
"Certainly it is," answered the man. "I should have done exactly asyou did, if I had been in your place. But where are you travellingto?"
"I want to reach Red River, as soon as possible."
"So do we! But we have lost our reckoning, and don't know which way togo."
"I do," said Frank. "This path leads directly to it."
They did not linger long to converse--time was too precious forthat--but immediately struck into the path, Frank leading the way.He soon learned that the names of his newly-found friends were MajorWilliams and Captain Schmidt. They had been captured, with two hundredothers, at the battle of Vicksburg, and had escaped while being takeninto Texas. They had accomplished, perhaps, half a dozen miles fromthe place where they met, when the breeze bore to their ears a soundthat made Frank turn as pale as death, and tremble as though suddenlyseized with a fit of the ague. They all heard it; but he was the onlyone who knew what it was.
"What ish dat, ony how?" coolly inquired the captain.
Before Frank could reply, the fearful sound was repeated, faint andfar off, but still nearer than before.
"Merciful heavens!" ejaculated the major, who now understood theirsituation; "is it possible you don't know what that sound is? _It isthe cry of a blood-hound!_"
"Oh, yah!" exclaimed the captain, as though the idea had suddenly comeinto his head, "I did think it vas a dorg."
"Push ahead now, boys, for Heaven's sake!" exclaimed the major. "Pushahead as fast as possible."
The captain evidently did not comprehend the danger of theirsituation; but Frank and the major knew that their lives dependedupon the next few moments. Oh, how thankful was Frank that he was notalone! He now knew the meaning of Pomp's warning; and the dreadfulsound had so unnerved him, that it was with great difficulty he couldkeep on his way. But this lasted only for a moment. His fear changedto indignation, and a desire to execute vengeance on men who could beguilty of such barbarity. It seemed as though the strength of a dozenmen was suddenly infused into him; so, shouldering his rifle, he ranalong the path with a speed that made it difficult for the Dutchmanto keep pace with him. But, fast as they went, the fearful sound grewlouder and louder; and, finally, they distinctly heard the clatter ofhorses' hoofs, and voices cheering on the dogs.
"Hurry on, for mer
cy's sake," said the major.
"Mine Gott in Himmel!" ejaculated the captain, who was puffing andblowing like a porpoise; "I can't run no faster. I guess it's petterwe stops and fights 'em, ain't it? I been not a good feller to run!"
"You _must_ run a little further," said Frank. "We will certainly becaptured, if we stop to fight them here."
The captain made no reply, but kept along as close behind the major aspossible. Frank's swiftness of foot was standing him well in hand now,for he frequently found himself obliged to slacken his pace, in orderto allow his friends to come up with him. But his usual confidencewas gone. He knew he could not stand that rapid pace much longer.Soon they must stop and fight; and what if the dogs, which would,undoubtedly, be some distance in advance of the horsemen, shouldoverpower them? Frank had often read of the ferocity of theseblood-hounds, and the thought of being pulled down and torn to piecesby them in those dark woods, and the knowledge that his mother andsister would forever remain ignorant of his fate, was terrible.Suddenly, an abrupt bend in the path brought them to the banks ofanother of those narrow streams with which the country was intersectedlike a net-work. What a cheering sight it was to Frank's eyes! Henow saw some chance for escape; and, without hesitating a moment, heplunged into the water. The others were close at his heels, and a fewbold strokes brought them to the opposite shore.
"Here we are," said the major. "Our chance for escape is rather slim,but we will make a stand here."
They had scarcely concealed themselves in the bushes, when one of thehounds appeared on the bank. He was followed by another, and stillanother, until eight of the terrible animals were in sight. Theyfollowed the trail of the fugitives down to the edge of the water,where, finding themselves at fault, they separated, and commencedbeating up and down the bank, now and then looking toward the oppositeshore, and uttering their bays, which sounded in Frank's ears like theknell of death.
"I pelieve I shoots one of them dorgs, ain't it?" said the captain;and he thrust his rifle cautiously through the bushes.
"No, no," commanded the major, "save your ammunition. The men will behere in a minute. Here they come now." And, as he spoke, there was aloud crashing in the bushes, and four horsemen came in sight.
"Thunder!" exclaimed one of them, who wore the uniform of a colonel,"I was in hopes we should catch the rascal before he reached thisplace. Here, Tige," he continued, addressing a powerful white hound,"hunt 'em up, hunt 'em up!"
The hound ran down to the edge of the stream, and barked and whinedfuriously, but still hesitated to enter; for hounds are always averseto going into water.
"Hunt 'em up, sir!" shouted the colonel, angrily.
The dog, evidently, feared his master more than the water, for heplunged in, and commenced swimming toward the place where Frankand his companions were concealed; and the others, after a littlehesitation, followed him.
"Ready, now, boys," whispered the major. "Captain, you shoot thatwhite hound. Frank, you take the colonel, and I'll attend to the manjust behind him. Don't waste your lead now."
The three rifles cracked in rapid succession, and the colonel and oneof his men fell heavily from their saddles. The white hound gave oneshort howl of pain, and sank out of sight. Every shot had reached itsmark.
The remaining rebels stood aghast at this sudden repulse; and thesmoke of the rifles had scarcely cleared away, when they wheeled theirhorses, and disappeared in the woods.
The death of the white hound produced no less consternation among hiscanine assistants, for they each gave a short yelp, and turned andmade for the shore.
Frank on a Gun-Boat Page 14