Si Klegg, Book 5

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Si Klegg, Book 5 Page 20

by John McElroy


  CHAPTER XIX. THE FIRST SCRAPE

  A LITTLE INITIATORY SKIRMISH WITH THE GUERRILLAS.

  THE train passed Shelbyville in the course of the afternoon and haltedon a switch. Tired of reading, Si was standing at the door of the car,looking out over the country and trying to identify places they hadpassed or camped at during the campaign of the previous Summer. Suddenlyhis far-seeing eyes became fixed on the intervals in the trees on thefarthest hill-top. Without turning his head he called Shorty in a tonewhich made that worthy lose all interest in his inevitable pack of cardsand spring to his side. Without speaking, Si pointed to the sky-line ofthe eminence, against which moving figures sketched themselves.

  "Guerrillas," said Shorty.

  Si nodded affirmatively.

  "Skeetin' acrost the country to jump this train or some other,"continued Shorty.

  "This one, most likely," answered Si.

  "Yes," accorded Shorty, with an estimating glance at the direction ofthe range of hills, "and'll aim at strikin' us at some bridge or deepcut about 10 miles from here."

  "Where we'll probably git sometime after dark," assented Si.

  "Yes. Let's talk to the conductor and engineer."

  The train had started in the meanwhile, but presently the conductor cameback into the caboose. He had been a soldier, but so severely wounded asto necessitate his discharge as incapable of further field service.

  "I hardly think there's any danger," said Conductor Madden. "Things've been very quiet this side of the Tennessee River ever since lastOctober, when Crook, Wilder and Minty belted the life out of old JoeWheeler down there at Farmington and Rodgersville. Our cavalry gavetheirs an awful mauling, and them that were lucky enough to escapeacrost the river have seemed purty well satisfied to stay on that side.A hell's mint of 'em were drowned trying to get acrost the river.Our cavalry's been patrolling the country ever since, but hasn't seenanything of consequence. Still, it is possible that some gang hasmanaged to sneak acrost a blind-ford somewhere, and in hopes to catch atrain. Guerrillas are always where you find 'em."

  "Well, I'll bet a hatful o' red apples," said Si, "that them wasguerrillas that we saw, and they're makin' for this train. The rebels inNashville somehow got information to 'em about it."

  "Them's guerrillas," affirmed Shorty, "sure's the right bower takes theleft. None o' our cavalry's stringin' around over the hill-tops. Then,I made out some white horses, which our cavalry don't have. It's just asSi says, them Nashville spies 's put the rebel cavalry onto us."

  "Them cowardly, sneaking, death-deserving rebels in Nashville," brokeout Conductor Madden, with a torrent of oaths. "Every man in Nashvillethat wears citizen's clothes ought to be hung on sight, and halfthe women. They don't do nothing but lay around and take the oath ofallegiance, watch every move we make like a cat does a mouse, and sendinformation through the lines. You can't draw a ration of hardtack butthey know it, and they're looking down your throat while you're eatingit. They haint got the gravel in their craws to go out and fightthemselves, and yet they've cost us a hundred times as many lives asif they had. Why does the General allow them to stay there? He ought toorder rocks tied to the necks of every blasted one of 'em and fling 'eminto the Cumberland River and then pour turpentine on the infernalold town and touch a match to it. That's what I'd do if I had my way.There's more, brimstone trouble to the acre in Nashville than in anytown on the footstool, not barring even Richmond."

  "Nashville certainly is tough," sighed Shorty. "'Specially in gamblers.Worst tin-horn crowd that ever fumbled a deck or skinned a greeny outo' the last cent o' his bounty. Say, Si, do you remember that tin-hornythat I cleaned out o' his whole pile down there at Murfreesboro, withthem cards that I'd clipped with a pair o' scissors, so's I'd know 'emby the feel, and he never ketched on till his last shinplaster was gone,and then I throwed the pack in the fire? Well, I seen him down there atthe depot smellin' around for suckers. I told him to let our boys aloneor I'd snap his neck off short. Great Jehosephat, but I wanted a chanceto git up town and give some o' them cold-deckers a whirl."

  "Well," said Conductor Madden, after some deliberation, "I believe whatyou boys say. You're not the kind to get rattled and make rebels outof cedar-bushes. All the same, there's nothing to do but go ahead. Myorders were to take this train through to Chattanooga as quick as Icould. I can't stop on a suspicion."

  "No, indeed," assented Si and Shorty.

  "There's no place to telegraph from till we get to Bridgeport, on theTennessee, and if we could telegraph they wouldn't pay any attention tomere reports of having seen rebels at a distance. They want somethingmore substantial than that."

  "Of course they do, and very properly," said Si. "Is your engineer allright?"

  "Game as they make 'em, and loyal as Abraham Lincoln himself," respondedthe conductor.

  "Well, I believe our boys 's all right. They're green, and they'refriskier than colts in a clover field, but they're all good stuff, andI believe we kin stand off any ordinary gang o' guerrillas. I'll chanceit, anyhow. This's a mighty valuable train to risk, but it ought to gothrough, for we don't know how badly they may need it. You tell yourengineer to go ahead carefully and give two long whistles if he seesanything dangerous."

  "I'll go and git onto the engine with him," said Shorty.

  "Wait a little," said Si. "We'll get the boys together, issue 'emcatridges and give 'em a little preparation for a light, if we're tohave one."

  The sun had gone down and the night was at hand. The train had stoppedto take on a supply of wood from a pile by the roadside. Some of theboys were helping pitch the heavy sticks onto the engine, the rest wareskylarking along the tops of the cars in the irrepressible exuberance ofanimal spirits of boys who had had plenty to eat and were without a carein the world. Harry Joslyn had been giving exhibitions of standing onhis head on the runningboard. Gid Mackall had converted a piece of ropehe had picked up into a lasso, and was trying to imitate the feats hehad seen performed at the last circus. Monty Scruggs, the incipientlawyer, who was proud of his elocutionary talents, had vociferated atthe woods they were passing, "Rienzi's Address to the Romans," "TheLast Sigh of the Moor," "Absalom," "The Battle of Waterloo," and similarstaples of Friday afternoon recitations. Alf Russell, the embryonicdoctor, who sang a fine tenor, was rendering "Lily Dale" withmuch impressment, and little Pete Skidmore was "skipping" the flathill-stones over an adjacent pond.

  "'Tention!" shouted Si.

  There was something so different in the tone from that in which Sihad before spoken, that it arrested the attention of every one of theminstantly.

  "Git your guns and fall in two ranks on that sod, there, at once,"commanded Si, in quick, curt accents.

  An impalpable something in the tones and words stilled everybody intoseriousness. This was deepened by the look they saw on Si's face.

  They snatched up their guns and hurried into line on the spot indicated,looking into each other's countenances and into that of Si's for anexplanation of what was up.

  "Mackall and Joslyn," called Shorty from the car, "come here and takethis box of catridges."

  "Now," said Si, as they did this, "Joslyn, you and Mackall issue thoseto the boys. One of you walk down in front and the other behind and giveeach man two packages of catridges. You boys open the packages and putthe catridges in your catridgeboxes, bullet-end up, and the caps in yourcapboxes."

  The boys followed his directions with nervous eagerness, inspired by hiswords and manner, and then fixed their anxious gaze upon him for furtherimpartment.

  Si walked down in front, in the rear of the line, superintending theoperation.

  "Now, boys," said Si, taking his place in front and facing them, "you'vebin talkin' about guerrillas ever since we crossed the Ohio, but nowthere's a prospect o' meetin' some. I hadn't expected to see any tillafter we'd reached Chattanoogy, but guerrillas's never where you expect'em."

  "Knowin' you was so anxious to see 'em, they've come up the road to meetyou," interjected Shorty.

&
nbsp; "It looks," continued Si, "as if they'd got news of the train andslipped out here to take it away from us. They may attack it at anyminute after we start agin. Now, we mustn't let 'em git it. It's toovaluable to the Government to lose and too valuable to them to git. Wemustn't let 'em have it, I tell you. Now, I want you to load your gunscarefully, handle 'em very carefully after they are loaded, git back inthe cars, stop skylarkin', keep very quiet, listen for orders, and whenyou git 'em, obey 'em to the letter--no more, no less."

  WATCHING THE BRIDGE BURNERS AT WORK 259]

  "Can't we go back on top o' the cars, where we kin watch for 'em, andgit the first pop at 'em?" said Harry Joslyn, in a pleading tone.

  "No; that's too dangerous, and you'll lose time in gittin' together,"answered Si. "You must all come into the cars with me."

  "Sergeant," said Shorty, "let me have a couple to go on the engine withme."

  "Le' me go. Le' me go," they all seemed to shout at once, holding uptheir hands in eager school-boy fashion.

  "I can't take but two o' you," said Shorty; "more'd be in the way."

  They all pressed forward. "Count out. That's the only fair way," shoutedthe boys in the center.

  "That's so," said Harry Joslyn. "Stand still till I count. Imry,Ory, Ickery, Ann, Quevy, Quavy, Irish Navy, Filleson, Folleson,Nicholas--Buck! That's me. I'm it!"

  He rapidly repeated the magic formula, and pronounced Gid Mackall "it."

  "He didn't count fair! He didn't count fair! He never counts fair,"protested the others; but Si hustled them into the cars and the trainstarted.

  It had grown quite dark. The boys sat silent and anxiously expectanton their seats, clutching their loaded guns, held stiffly upright, andwatching Si's face as well as they could by the dim light of the singleoil lamp. Si leaned against the side of the door and watched intently.

  Only little Pete Skidmore was unrepressed by the gravity of thesituation. Rather, it seemed to spur his feet, his hands and his mouthto nimbler activity. He was everywhere--at one moment by Si's side inthe door of the car, at the next climbing up to peer out of the window;and then clambering to the top of the car, seeing legions of guerrillasin the bushes, until sternly ordered back by Si. Then he would drop thebutt of his musket on the floor with a crash which would start every oneof the taut nerves to throbbing. And the questions that he asked:

  "Say, Sergeant, will the guerrillas holler before they shoot, or shootbefore they holler?"

  "Sometimes one and sometimes the other," responded Si, absently. "Keepquiet, Pete."

  Quiet for a minute, and then:

  "Shall we holler before we shoot or shoot before we holler?"

  "Neither. Keep perfectly quiet, and 'tend strictly to your littlebusiness."

  "I think we ought to holler some. Makes it livelier. What sort o' gunshas the guerrillas?"

  "Every kind--shot-guns, pistols, rifles, flint-locks, cap-locks--everykind. Now, you mustn't ask me any more questions. Don't bother me."

  "Yes, sir; I won't."

  Quiet for at least five seconds. Then:

  "Have the guerrillas guns that'll shoot through the sides of the cars?"

  "Probably."

  "Then I'd ruther be on top, where I kin see something. Kin they shootthrough the sides o' the tender, and let all the water out and stop theengine?"

  "Guess not."

  "Haven't they any real big guns that will?"

  "Mebbe."

  "Kin we plug up the holes, anyway, then, and start agin?"

  "Probably."

  "Hain't the engineer got an iron shield that he kin git behind, so theycan't shoot him?"

  "Can't he turn the steam onto 'em, and scald 'em if they try to git athim?"

  "What'll happen if they shoot the head-light out?"

  "Why wouldn't it be a good idee to put a lot o' us on the cow-ketcher,with fixed bayonets, and then let the engineer crack on a full head o'steam and run us right into 'em?"

  "Great Scott, Pete, you must stop askin' questions," said Sidesperately. "Don't you see Pm busy?"

  Pete was silent for another minute. Then he could hold in no longer:

  "Sergeant, jest one question more, and then I'll keep quiet."

  "Well, what is it?"

  "If the rebels shoot the bell, won't it make a noise that they kin hearclear back at Nashville?"

  The engine suddenly stopped, and gave two long whistles. Above thescreech they heard shots from Shorty and the two boys with him.

  "Here they are, boys," said Si, springing out and running up the bank."All out, boys. Come up here and form."

  As he reached the top of the bank a yell and a volley came from theother side of the creek. Shorty joined him at once, bringing the twoboys on the engine with him.

  "We've bin runnin' through this deep cut," he explained, "and jestcome out onto the approach to the bridge, when we see a little fire awayahead, and the head-light showed some men runnin' down on to the bankon the other side o' the crick. We see in a moment what was up. They'vejest got to the road and started a fire on the bridge that's about amile ahead. Their game was to burn that bridge, and when this trainstopped, burn this one behind us, ketch us, whip us, and take the train.We shot at the men we see on the bank, but probably didn't do 'em noharm. They're all pilin' down now to the other bank to whip us out andgit the train. You'd better deploy the boys along the top o' the bankhere and open on 'em. We can't save that bridge, but we kin this and thetrain, by keepin' 'em on the other side o' the crick. I'll take chargeo' the p'int here with two or three boys, and drive off any o' them thattries to set fire to the bridge, and you kin look out for the rest o'the line. It's goin' to be longtaw work, for you see the crick's purtywide, but our guns 'll carry further'n theirs, and if we keep the boyswell in hand I think we kin stand 'em off without much trouble."

  "Sure," said Si confidently. "You watch the other side o' the bridge andI'll look out for the rest."

  The eager boys had already begun firing, entering into the spirit of thething with the zest of a Fame of town-ball. Shorty took Gid Mackall andHarry Joslyn down to the cover of some large stones, behind which theycould lie and command the approach to the other end of the bridge withtheir rifles. Si took the other boys and placed them behind rocks andstumps along the crest and instructed them to fire with as good aim aspossible at the flashes from the other side. In a minute or two he hada fine skirmish-line in operation, with the boys firing as deliberatelyand accurately as veterans. The engineer had backed the train under thecover of the cut, and presently he and the conductor came up with gunsand joined the firing-line.

  "I say, Shorty," said Si, coming down to where that worthy wasstationed, "what d' you think o' the boys now? They take to this like aduck to water. They think it's more fun than squirrel-huntin'. Listen."

  They heard Monty Scruggs's baritone call:

  "Say, Alf, did you see me salt that feller that's bin yellin' andcussin' at me over there? He's cussin' now for something else. I think Igot him right where he lived."

  "I wasn't paying any attention to you," Alf's fine tenor replied, ashis rammer rang in his barrel. "I've got business o' my own to 'tend to.There's a feller over there that's firing buckshot at me that I've gotto settle, and here goes."

  "The 200th Injianny Volunteers couldn't put up a purtier skirmish thanthis," murmured Si, in accents of pride, as he raised his gun and firedat a series of flashes on the farther bank.

  "I say, tell that engineer to uncouple his engine and bring it back uphere where the head-light'll cover the other side," said Shorty. "It'llmake the other side as light as day and we kin see every move, whilewe'll be in the dark."

  "Good idee," said Si, hastening to find the engineer.

  He was none too soon. As the engine rolled up, flooding its advance withlight, it brought a storm of bullets from the other side, but revealedthree men creeping toward the other end of the bridge. Two were carryingpine knots, and the third, walking behind, had a stick of blazing pine,which he was trying to shield from observat
ion with his hat.

  "Take the front man, Harry. Take the second one, Gid. I'll take the manwith the light," commanded Shorty.

  The three rifles cracked in quick succession and the three men dropped.

  "Bully, boys," ejaculated Shorty, as he reloaded. "You'll do. The 200thInjianny's proud o' you."

  "I hit my man in the leg," said Harry, flushing with delight, as he bitoff another cartridge. "Jerusalem, I wish they'd send another one down."

  "I drawed on my man's bundle o' wood," said Gid, "and then dropped alittle, so's to git him where he was biggest and make sure o' him."

  "Well, my man's beauty's spiled forever," said Shorty. "The light flaredup on his face and I let him have it there."

  "But Linden saw another light. When beat the drums at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to hight The darkness of her scenery,"

  recited Monty Scruggs. "Gracious, I'm hit!"

  "Where?" asked Si, running up to him.

  "Through my leg," answered Monty.

  "Kin you walk?"

  "I guess so."

  "Well, make your way back to the cars and git in and lay down."

  "Not much," answered Monty determinedly. "It don't hurt much, andI'm going to stay and see this thing out. I can tie it up with myhandkerchief."

  "Scatter again, boys," Si warned several, who had rushed up; "don't maketoo big a mark for the fellers on the other side. Go back and 'tend toyour bizniss. I'll help him tie up his wound. I'm afeared, though, thatsome o' the boys are runnin' out o' catridges, they have bin shootin' sorapidly. I want a couple o' you to run back to the cars and git anotherbox."

  "Let me and Sandy go," pleaded little Pete Skidmore. "The big boys wentbefore."

  "All right; skip out. Break the lid o' the box off before you take itout o' the car. We haven't anything here to do it with. Leave your gunshere."

  "No, we'll take 'em along," pleaded Pete, with a boyish love for hisrifle. "We mightn't be able to find 'em agin."

  The firing from the opposite bank became fitful, died down, and thenceased altogether. Then a couple of shots rang out from far in therear in the direction of the train. This seemed to rouse the rebelsto another volley, and then all became quiet. The shots in the reardisturbed Si, who started back to see what they meant, but met PeteSkidmore and Sandy Baker coming panting up, carrying a box of cartridgesbetween them.

  "We got back as quick as we could," Pete explained as he got his breath."Just as we was coming to the train we see a rebel who was carrying afat-pine torch, and making for the train to set it on fire. We shot him.Was that all right?"

  "Perfectly," said Si. "Was there any more with him?"

  "No. We looked around for others, but couldn't find none. That's whatkept up so long."

  "The Johnnies have given it up and gone," said Shorty, coming up. "Iwent over to a place where I could see 'em skippin' out by the light o'the burnin' o' the other bridge. We might as well put out guards hereand go into camp till mornin'."

  "All right," assented Si. "We've saved the train and bridge, and that'sall we kin do."

 

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