What Answer?

by Anna E. Dickinson

  CHAPTER XV

  "_There are some deeds so grand That their mighty doers stand Ennobled, in a moment, more than kings._"

  BOKER

  It was towards the evening of a blazing July day on Morris Island. Themail had just come in and been distributed. Jim, with some papers and aprecious missive from Sallie in one hand, his supper in the other,betook himself to a cool spot by the river,--if, indeed, any spot couldbe called cool in that fiery sand,--and proceeded to devour the letterwith wonderful avidity while the "grub," properly enough, stoodunnoticed and uncared for. Presently he stopped, rubbed his eyes, andre-read a paragraph in the epistle before him, then re-rubbed, and readit again; and then, laying it down, gave utterance to a long whistle,expressive of unbounded astonishment, if not incredulity.

  The whistle was answered by its counterpart, and Jim, looking up,beheld his captain,--Coolidge by name,--a fast, bright New York boy,standing at a little distance, and staring with amazed eyes at a paperhe held in his hands. Glancing from this to Jim, encountering his look,he burst out laughing and came towards him.

  "Helloa, Given!" he called: Jim was a favorite with him, as indeed withpretty much every one with whom he came in contact, officers andmen,--"you, too, seem put out. I wonder if you've read anything as queeras that," handing him the paper and striking his finger down on an item;"read it." Jim read:--

  "MISCEGENATION. DISGRACEFUL FREAK IN HIGH LIFE. FRUIT OF AN ABOLITIONWAR.--We are credibly informed that a young man belonging to one of thefirst families in the city, Mr. W.A.S.,--we spare his name for the sakeof his relatives,--who has been engaged since its outset in thisfratricidal war, has just given evidence of its legitimate effect bytaking to his bosom a nigger wench as _his wife_. Of course he isdisowned by his family, and spurned by his friends, even radicalfanaticism not being yet ready for such a dose as this. However--" Jimdid not finish the homily of which this was the presage, but, throwingthe paper on the ground, indignantly drove his heel through it, tearingand soiling it, and then viciously kicked it into the river.

  Said the Captain when this operation was completed, having watched itwith curious eyes, "Well, my man, are you aware of the fact that that is_my_ paper?"

  "Don't care if it is. What in thunder did you bring the damnedCopperhead sheet to me for, if you didn't want it smashed? Ain't youashamed of yourself having such a thing round? How'd you feel if youwere picked up dead by a reb, with that stuff in your pocket? Say now!"

  Coolidge laughed,--he was always ready to laugh: that was probably whythe men liked him so well, and stood in awe of him not a bit. "Feel?horridly, of course. Bad enough, being dead, to yet speak, and tell 'emthat paper didn't represent my politics: 'd that do?"

  Jim shook his head dubiously.

  "What are you making such a devil of a row for, I'd like to know? it'stoo hot to get excited. 'Tain't likely you know anything about WillieSurrey."

  "O ho! it is Mr. Will, then, is it? Know him,--don't I, though? Like abook. Known him ever since he was knee-height of a grasshopper. I'd liketo have that fellow"--shaking his fist toward the floatingpaper--"within arm's reach. Wouldn't I pummel him some? O no, of coursenot,--not at all. Only, if he wants a sound skin, I'd advise him, as afriend, to be scarce when I'm round, because it'd very likely bedamaged."

  "You think it's all a Copperhead lie, then! I should have thought so, atfirst, only I know Surrey's capable of doing any Quixotic thing if heonce gets his mind fixed on it."

  "I know what I know," Jim answered, slowly folding and unfoldingSallie's letter, which he still held in his hand. "I know all about thatyoung lady he's been marrying. She's young, and she'shandsome--handsome as a picture--and rich, and as good as an angel;that's about what she is, if Sallie Howard and I know B from a bull'sfoot."

  "Who is Sallie Howard?" queried the Captain.

  "She? O,"--very red in the face,--"she's a friend of mine, and she'sMiss Ercildoune's seamstress."

  "Ercildoune? good name! Is she the _lady_ upon whom Surrey has beenbestowing his--?"

  "Yes, she is; and here's her photograph. Sallie begged it of her, andsent it to me, once after she had done a kind thing by both of us. Lookslike a 'nigger wench,' don't she?"

  The Captain seized the picture, and, having once fastened his eyes uponit, seemed incapable of removing them. "This? this her?" he cried."Great Caesar! I should think Surrey would have the fellow out at twentypaces in no time. Heavens, what a beauty!"

  Jim grinned sardonically: "She is rather pretty, now,--ain't she?"

  "Pretty! ugh, what an expression! pretty, indeed! I never saw anythingso beautiful. But what a sad face it is!"

  "Sad! well, 'tain't much wonder. I guess her life's been sad enough, inspite of her youth, and her beauty, and her riches, and all the rest."

  "Why, how should that be?"

  "Suppose you take another squint at that face."

  "Well."

  "See anything peculiar about it?"

  "Nothing except its beauty."

  "Not about the eyes?"

  "No,--only I believe it is they that make the face so sorrowful."

  "Very like. You generally see just such big mournful-looking eyes in thefaces of people that are called--octoroons."

  "What?" cried the Captain, dropping the picture in his surprise.

  "Just so," Jim answered, picking it up and dusting it carefully beforerestoring it to its place in his pocket-book.

  "So, then, it is part true, after all."

  "True!" exclaimed Jim, angrily,--"don't make an ass of yourself,Captain."

  "Why, Given, didn't you say yourself that she was an octoroon, or somesuch thing?"

  "Suppose I did,--what then?"

  "I should say, then, that Surrey has disgraced himself forever. He hasnot only outraged his family and his friends, and scandalized society,but he has run against nature itself. It's very plain God Almighty neverintended the two races to come together."

  "O, he didn't, hey? Had a special despatch from him, that you know allabout it? I've heard just such talk before from people who seemed to bepretty well posted about his intentions,--in this particularmatter,--though I generally noticed they weren't chaps who were veryintimate with him in any other way."

  The Captain laughed. "Thank you, Jim, for the compliment; but come, youaren't going to say that nature hasn't placed a barrier between thesepeople and us? an instinct that repels an Anglo-Saxon from a negroalways and everywhere?"

  "Ho, ho! that's good! why, Captain, if you keep on, you'll make me talkmyself into a regular abolitionist. Instinct, hey? I'd like to know,then, where all the mulattoes, and the quadroons, and the octoroons comefrom,--the yellow-skins and brown-skins and skins so nigh white youcan't tell 'em with your spectacles on! The darkies must have bleachedout amazingly here in America, for you'd have to hunt with a long poleand a telescope to boot to find a straight-out black one anywhereround,--leastwise that's my observation."

  "That was slavery."

  "Yes 'twas,--and then the damned rascals talk about theamalgamationists, and all that, up North. 'Twan't the abolitionists;'twas the slaveholders and their friends that made a race of half-breedsall over the country; but, slavery or no slavery, they showed naturehadn't put any barriers between them,--and it seems to me an enoughsight decenter and more respectable plan to marry fair and square thanto sell your own children and the mother that bore them. Come, now,ain't it?"

  "Well, yes, if you come to that, I suppose it is!"

  "You _suppose_ it is! See here,--I've found out something since I'vebeen down here, and have had time to think; 'tain't the living togetherthat troubles squeamish stomachs; it's the marrying. That's what's thematter!"

  "Just about!" assented the Captain, with an amused look, "and here's acase in point. Surrey ought to have been shot for marrying one of thatdegraded race."

  "Bah! he married one of his own race, if I know how to calculate."

  "There, Jim, don't be a fool! If she's got any negro blood in her veinsshe's a nigger, and
all your talk won't make her anything else."

  "I say, Captain, I've heard that some of your ancestors were Indians: isthat so?"

  "Yes: my great-grandmother was an Indian chief's daughter,--so they say;and you might as well claim royalty when you have the chance."

  "Bless me! your great-grandmother, eh? Come, now, what do you callyourself,--an Injun?"

  "No, I don't. I call myself an Anglo-Saxon."

  "What, not call yourself an Injun,--when your great-grandmother was one?Here's a pretty go!"

  "Nonsense! 'tisn't likely that filtered Indian blood can take precedenceand mastery of all the Anglo-Saxon material it's run through sincethen."

  "Hurray! now you've said it. Lookee here, Captain. You say theAnglo-Saxon's the master race of the world."

  "Of course I do."

  "Of course you do,--being a sensible fellow. So do I; and you say thenegro blood is mighty poor stuff, and the race a long way behind ours."

  "Of course, again."

  "Now, Captain, just take a sober squint at your own logic. You backAnglo-Saxon against the field; very well! here's Miss Ercildoune, we'llsay, one eighth negro, seven eighths Anglo-Saxon. You make that oneeighth stronger than all the other seven eighths: you make that littlebit of negro master of all the lot of Anglo-Saxon. Now I have such agood opinion of my own race that if it were t'other way about, I'd thinkthe one eighth Saxon strong enough to beat the seven eighths nigger.That's sound, isn't it? consequently, I call anybody that's got anymixture at all, and that knows anything, and keeps a clean face,--andain't a rebel, nor yet a Copperhead,--I call him, if it's a him, andher, if it's a she, one of us. And I mean to say to any such fromhenceforth, 'Here's your chance,--go in, and win, if you can,--andanybody be damn'd that stops you!'"

  "Blow away, Jim," laughed the Captain, "I like to hear you; and it'sgood talk if you don't mean it."

  "I'll be blamed if I don't."

  "Come, you're talking now,--you're saying a lot more than you'll live upto,--you know that as well as I. People always do when they're gassing."

  "Well, blow or no blow, it's truth, whether I live up to it or not." Andhe, evidently with not all the steam worked off, began to gather sticksand build a fire to fry his bit of pork and warm the cold coffee.

  Just then they heard the plash of oars keeping time to the cadence of aplantation hymn, which came floating solemn and clear through thenight:--

  "My brudder sittin' on de tree ob life, An' he yearde when Jordan roll. Roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll, Roll Jordan, roll!"

  They both paused to listen as the refrain was again and again repeated.

  "There's nigger for you," broke out Jim, "what'n thunder'd they mean bysuch gibberish as that?"

  The Captain laughed. "Come, Given, don't quarrel with what's above yourcomprehension. Doubtless there's a spiritual meaning hidden awaysomewhere, which your unsanctified ears can't interpret."

  "Spiritual fiddlestick!"

  "Worse and worse! what a heathen you're demonstrating yourself! Violinsare no part of the heavenly chorus."

  "Much you know about it! Hark,--they're at it again"; and again thevoices and break of oars came through the night:--

  "O march, de angel march! O march, de angel march! O my soul arise in heaven, Lord, for to yearde when Jordan roll! Roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll."

  "Well, I confess that's a little bit above my comprehension,--that is.Spiritual or something else. Lazy vermin! they'll paddle round in themboats, or lie about in the sun, and hoot all day and all night about'de good Lord' and 'de day ob jubilee,'--and think God Almighty is goingto interfere in their special behalf, and do big things for themgenerally."

  "It's a fact; they do all seem to be waiting for something."

  "Well, I reckon they needn't wait any longer. The day of miracles isgone by, for such as them, anyway. They ain't worth the salt that feedsthem, so far as I can discover."

  Through the wash of the waters they could hear from the voices, as theysang, that their possessors were evidently drawing nearer.

  "Sense or not," said the Captain, "I never listen to them without aqueer feeling. What they sing is generally ridiculous enough, but theirvoices are the most pathetic things in the world."

  Here the hymn stopped; a boat was pulled up, and presently they saw twomen coming from the sands and into the light of their fire,--ragged,dirty; one shabby old garment--a pair of tow pantaloons--on each;bareheaded, barefooted,--great, clumsy feet, stupid and heavy-lookingheads; slouching walk, stooping shoulders; something eager yetdeprecating in their black faces.

  "Look at 'em, Captain; now you just take a fair look at 'em; and thensay that Mr. Surrey's wife belongs to the same family,--own kith andkin,--you ca-a-n't do it."

  "Faugh! for heaven's sake, shut up! of course, when it comes to this, Ican't say anything of the kind."

  "'Nuff said. You see, I believe in Mr. Surrey, and what's more, Ibelieve in Miss Ercildoune,--have reason to; and when I hear anybodymixing her up with these onry, good-for-nothing niggers, it's more'n Ican stand, so don't let's have any more of it"; and turning with an airwhich said that subject was ended, Jim took up his forgotten coffee,pulled apart some brands and put the big tin cup on the coals, and thenbent over it absorbed, sniffing the savory steam which presently came upfrom it. Meanwhile the two men were skulking about among the trees,watching, yet not coming near,--"at their usual work of waiting," as theCaptain said.

  "Proper enough, too, let 'em wait. Waiting's their business. Now,"taking off his tin and looking towards them, "what d'ye s'pose thoseanemiles want? Pity the boat hadn't tipped over before they got here.Camp's overrun now with just such scoots. Here, you!" he called.

  The men came near. "Where'd you come from?"

  One of them pointed back to the boat, seen dimly on the sand.

  "Was that you howling a while ago, 'Roll Jordan,' or something?"

  "Yes, massa."

  "And where did you come from?--no, you needn't look back there again,--Imean, where did you and the boat too come from?"

  "Come from Mass' George Wingate's place, massa."

  "Far from here?"

  "Big way, massa."

  "What brought you here? what did you come for?"

  "If you please, massa, 'cause the Linkum sojers was yere, an' de bigguns, an' we yearde dat all our people's free when dey gets yere."

  "Free! what'll such fellows as you do with freedom, hey?"

  The two looked at their interrogator, then at one another, opened theirmouths as to speak, and shut them hopelessly,--unable to put into wordsthat which was struggling in their darkened brains,--and then with alaugh, a laugh that sounded woefully like a sob, answered, "Dunno,massa."

  "What fools!" cried Jim, angrily; but the Captain, who was watching themkeenly, thought of a line he had once read, "There is a laughter sadderthan tears." "True enough,--poor devils!" he added to himself.

  "Are you hungry?" Jim proceeded.

  "I hope massa don't think we's come yere for to git suthin' to eat,"said the smaller of the two, a little, thin, haggard-lookingfellow,--"we's no beggars. Some ob de darkies is, but we's not demkind,--Jim an' me,--we's willin' to work, ain't we, Jim?"

  "Jim!" soliloquized Given,--"my name, hey? we'll take a squint at thisfellow."

  The squint showed two impoverished-looking wretches, with a starved lookin their eyes, which he did not comprehend, and a starved look in theirfaces and forms, which he did.

  "Come, now, are you hungry?" he queried once more.

  "If ye please, massa," began the little one who was spokesman,--'littlefolks always are gas-bags,' Jim was fond of saying from his six feet ofheight,--"if ye please, massa, we's had nothin' to eat but berries an'roots an' sich like truck for long while."

  "Well, why by the devil haven't you had something else then? what've youbeen doing with yourselves for 'long while'? what d'ye mean, coming herestarved to death, making a fellow sick to look at you? Hold your gab,and eat up that
pork," pushing over his tin plate, "'n' that bread,"sending it after, "'n' that hard tack,--'tain't very good, but it'sbetter'n roots, I reckon, or berries either,--'n' gobble up that coffee,double-quick, mind; and don't you open your heads to talk till thegrub's gone, slick and clean. Ugh!" he said to the Captain,--"sight o'them fellows just took my appetite away; couldn't eat to save my soul;lucky they came to devour the rations; pity to throw them away." TheCaptain smiled,--he knew Jim. "Poor cusses!" he added presently, "eatlike cannibals, don't they? hope they enjoy it. Had enough?" seeing theyhad devoured everything put before them.

  "Thankee, massa. Yes, massa. Bery kind, massa. Had quite 'nuff."

  "Well, now, you, sir!" looking at the little one,--"by the way, what'syour name?"

  "'Bijah, if ye please, massa."

  "'Bijah? Abijah, hey? well, I don't please; however, it's none of myname. Well, 'Bijah, how came you two to be looking like a couple ofanimated skeletons? that's the next question."

  "Yes, massa."

  "I say, how came you to be starved? Hai'n't they nothing but roots andberries up your way? Mass' George Wingate must have a jolly time,feasting, in that case. Come, what's your story? Out with the whole packof lies at once."

  "I hope massa thinks we wouldn't tell nuffin but de truf," said Jim, whohad not before spoken save to say, "Thankee,"--"cause if he don't bleeveus, ain't no use in talkin'."

  "You shut up! I ain't conversing with you, rawbones! Speak when you'respoken to! Come, 'Bijah, fire away."

  "Bery good, massa. Ye see I'se Mass' George Wingate's boy. Mass' Georgehe lives in de back country, good long way from de coast,--over ahundred miles, Jim calklates,--an' Jim's smart at calklating; well,Mass' George he's not berry good to his people; never was, an' he's beenwuss'n ever since the Linkum sojers cum round his way, 'cause it's madefeed scurce ye see, an' a lot of de boys dey tuck to runnin' away,--sowhat wid one ting an' anoder, his temper got spiled, an' he was mightyhard on us all de time.

  "At las' I got tired of bein' cuffed an' knocked round, an' den I yeardedat if our people, any of dem, got to de Fedral lines dey was free, so Isaid, 'Cum, 'Bijah,--freedom's wuth tryin' for'; an' one dark night Idid up some hoe-cake an' a piece of pork an' started. I trabbeledhard's I could all night,--'bout fifteen mile, I reckon,--an' den as'twas gittin' toward mornin' I hid away in a swamp. Ye see I feltdrefful bad, for I could year way off, but plain enuff, de bayin' of dehounds, an' I knew dat de men an' de guns an' de dogs was all after me;but de day passed an' dey didn't come. So de next night I started offagen, an' run an' walked hard all night, an' towards mornin' I went upto a little house standen off from de road, thinking it was a niggerhouse, an' jest as I got up to it out walked a white woman scarin' meawfully, an' de fust ting she axed me was what I wanted."

  "Tight slave!" interrupted Jim,--"what d'ye do then?"

  "Well, massa, ye see I saw mighty quick I was in for a lie anyhow, so Isaid, 'Is massa at home?' 'Yes,' says she,--an' sure nuff, he cum rightout. 'Hello, nigger!' he said when he seed me, 'whar you cum from? so Itells him from Pocotaligo, an' before he could ax any more queshuns, Iwent on an' tole him we cotched fifty Yankees down dere yesterday, an'massa he was so tickled dat he let me go to Barnwells to see my family,an' den I said I'd got off de track an' was dead beat an' dreffulhungry, an' would he please to sell me suthin to eat. At dat de womanstreaked right into de house, an' got me some bread an' meat, an' toleme to eat it up an' not talk about payin,'--'we don't charge good,faithful niggers nothin',' she said,--so I thanked her an' eat it allup, an' den, when de man had tole me how to go, I went right long till Igot out ob sight ob de little house, an' den I got into de woods, an'turned right round de oder way an' made tracks fast as I could in datdirecshun."

  "Ho! ho! you're about what I call a 'cute nigger," laughed Jim. "Come,go on,--this gets interesting."

  "Well, directly I yearde de dogs. Dere was a pond little way off; so Ituck to it, an' waded out till I could just touch my toes an' keep mynose above water so's to breathe. Presently dey all cum down, an' Iyearde Mass' George say, 'I'll hunt dat nigger till I find him if takesa month. I'se goin' to make a zample of him,'--so I shook some at dat,for I know'd what Mass' George's zamples was. Arter while one ob de mensays, 'He ain't yere,--he'd shown hisself before dis, if he was,' an' Ispose I would, for I was pretty nearly choked, only I said to myselfwhen I went in, 'I'll go to de bottom before I'll come up to be tuck,'so I jest held on by my toes an' waited.

  "I didn't dare to cum out when dey rode away to try a new scent, an'when I did I jest skulked round de edge ob de pond, ready to take to itagen if I yearde dem, an' when night cum I started off an' run an'walked agen hard's I could, an' den at day-dawn I tuck to anoder pond,an' went on a log dat was stickin' in de water, and broke down somerushes an' bushes enuf to lie down on an' cover me up, an' den I sleptall day, for I was drefful tired an' most starved too. Next evenin' whenit got dark, I went on agen, an' trabblin through de woods I seed alittle light, an' sartin dis time dat it was a darkey's cabin, I madefor it, an' it was. It was his'n,"--pointing to the big fellow whostood beside him, and who nodded his head in assent.

  "I had a palaver before he'd let me in, but when I was in I seed what dematter was. He had a sojer dere, a Linkum sojer, bad wounded, what he'dfound in de woods,--he was a runaway hisself, ye see, like me,--an' he'dtuck him to dis ole cabin an'd been nussin him on for good while. When Iseed dat I felt drefful bad, for I knowed dey was a huntin for me yet,an' I tought if de dogs got on de trail dey'd get to dis cabin, sure:an' den dey'd both be tuck. So I up an' tole dem, an' de sojer he says,'Come, Jim, you've done quite enuff fur me, my boy. If you're in dangernow, be off with you fast as you can,--an' God reward you, for I nevercan, for all you've done for me.'

  "'No,' says Jim, 'Capen, ye needn't talk in dat way, for I'se not gointo budge widout you. You got wounded fur me an' my people, an' now I'llstick by you an' face any thing fur you if it's Death hisself!' That'sjust what Jim said; an' de sojer he put his hand up to his face, an' Iseed it tremble bad,--he was weak, you see,--an' some big tears cum outtroo his fingers onto de back ob it.

  "Den Jim says, 'Dis isn't a safe place for any on us, an' we'll have totake to our heels agen, an' so de sooner we's off de better.' So he didup some vittels,--all he had dere,--an' gave 'em to me to tote,--an' denbefore de Capen could sneeze he had him up on his back, an' we was off.

  "It was pretty hard work I kin tell you, strong as Jim was, an' we'dhave to stop an' rest putty ofen; an' den, Jim an' I, we'd tote himatween us on some boughs; an' den we had to lie by, some days, allday,--an' we trabbled putty slow, cause we'd lost our bearing an' was ina secesh country, we knowed,--an' we had nudin but berries an' sich toeat, an' got nigh starved.

  "One night we cum onto half a dozen fellows skulkin' in de woods, an' atfust dey made fight, but d'rectly dey know'd we was friends, fur dey wassome more Linkum sojers, an' dey'd lost dere way, or ruther, dey know'dwhere dey was, but dey didn't know how to git way from dere. Dey was'scaped pris'ners, dey told us; when I yearde where 'twas I know'd deway to de coast, an' said I'd show 'em de way if dey'd cum long wid us,so dey did; an' we got 'long all right till we got to de ribber up byMass' Rhett's place."

  "Yes, I know where it is," said the Captain.

  "Den what to do was de puzzle. De country was all full ob seceshpickets, an' dere was de ribber, an' we had no boat,--so Jim, he says,'I know what to do; fust I'll hide you yere,' an' he did all safe in dewoods; 'an' den I'll git ye suthin to eat from de niggers round,' an' hedid dat too, do he couldn't git much, for fear he'd be seen; an' den we,he and I, made some ropes out ob de tall grass like dat we'd ofen madefur mats, an' tied dem together wid some oder grass, an' stuck a boardin, an' den made fur de Yankee camp, an' yere we is."

  "Yes," said the black man Jim, here,--breaking silence,--"we'll show youde way back if you kin go up in a boat dey can rest in, fur dey's mostall clean done out, an' de capen's wound is awful bad yit."

  "This captain,--what's his name?" inquired Coolidg
e.

  "His name is here," said Jim, carefully drawing forth a paper from hisrags,--"he has on dis some figgers an' a map of de country he tookbefore he got wounded, an' some words he writ wid a bit of burnt stickjust before we cum away,--an' he giv it to me, an' tole me to bring itto camp, fur fear something might happen to him while we was away."

  "My God!" cried Coolidge when he had opened the paper, and with hastyeyes scanned its contents, "it's Tom Russell; I know him well. This mustbe sent up to head-quarters, and I'll get an order, and a boat, and somemen, to go for them at once." All of which was promptly done.

  "See here! I speak to be one of the fellows what goes," Jim emphaticallyannounced.

  "All right. I reckon we'll both go, Given, if the General will letus,--and I think he will,"--which was a safe guess and a true one. Theboat was soon ready and manned. 'Bijah, too weak to pull an oar, wasleft behind; and Jim, really not fit to do aught save guide them, stillinsisted on taking his share of work. They found the place at last, andthe men; and taking them on board,--Russell having to be moved slowlyand carefully,--they began to pull for home.

  The tide was going out, and the river low: that, with the heavy ladenboat, made their progress lingering; a fact which distressed them all,as they knew the night to be almost spent, and that the shores were solined with batteries, open and masked, and the country about so scouredby rebels, as to make it almost sure death to them if they were notbeyond the lines before the morning broke.

  The water was steadily and perceptibly ebbing,--the rowing growing moreand more insecure,--the danger becoming imminent.

  "Ease her off, there! ease her off!" cried the Captain,--as a harsh,gravelly sound smote on his ear, and at the same moment a shot whizzedpast them, showing that they were discovered,--"ease her off, there! orwe're stuck!"

  The warning came too late,--indeed, could not have been obeyed, had itcome earlier. The boat struck; her bottom grating hard on the wet sand.

  "Great God! she's on a bar," cried Coolidge, "and the tide's runningout, fast."

  "Yes, and them damned rebs are safe enough from _our_ fire," said one ofthe men.

  A few scattering shot fell about them.

  "They're going to make their mark on us, anyway," put in another.

  "And we can't send 'em anything in return, blast 'em!" growled a third.

  "That's the worst of it," broke out a fourth, "to be shot at like a ratin a hole."

  All said in a breath, and the balls by this time falling thick andfast,--a fiery, awful rain of death. The men were no cowards, and thecaptain was brave enough; but what could they do? To stand up was but tomake figure-heads at which the concealed enemy could fire with ghastlycertainty; to fire in return was to waste their ammunition in the air.The men flung themselves face foremost on the deck, silent and watchful.

  Through it all Jim had been sitting crouched over his oar. He, unarmed,could not have fought had the chance offered; breaking out, once andagain, into the solemn-sounding chant which he had been singing when hecame up in his boat the evening before:--

  "O my soul arise in heaven, Lord, for to yearde when Jordan roll, Roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll,"--

  the words falling in with the sound of the water as it lapsed from them.

  "Stop that infernal noise, will you?" cried one of the men, impatiently.The noise stopped.

  "Hush, Harry,--don't swear!" expostulated another, beside whom was lyinga man mortally wounded. "This is awful! 'tain't like going in fair andsquare, on your chance."

  "That's so,--it's enough to make a fellow pray," was the answer.

  Here Russell, putting up his hand, took hold of Jim's brawny black onewith a gesture gentle as a woman's. It hurt him to hear his faithfulfriend even spoken to harshly. All this, while the hideous shower ofdeath was dropping about them; the water was ebbing, ebbing,--fallingand running out fast to sea, leaving them higher and drier on the sands;the gray dawn was steadily brightening into day.

  At this fearful pass a sublime scene was enacted. "Sirs!" said avoice,--it was Jim's voice, and in it sounded something so earnest andstrange, that the men involuntarily turned their heads to look at him.Then this man stood up,--a black man,--a little while before aslave,--the great muscles swollen and gnarled with unpaid toil, themarks of the lash and the branding-iron yet plain upon his person, theshadows of a lifetime of wrongs and sufferings looking out of his eyes."Sirs!" he said, simply, "somebody's got to die to get us out of dis,and it may as well be me,"--plunged overboard, put his toil-hardenedshoulders to the boat; a struggle, a gasp, a mighty wrench,--pushed itoff clear; then fell, face foremost, pierced by a dozen bullets. Free atlast!