by John McElroy
CHAPTER III. THIRD DAY OF THE DELUGE
TOILSOME PLODDING, AND "SHELBYVILLE ONLY 15 MILES AWAY."
IT SEEMS impossible, but the third day's rain was even worse than thatof the two preceding. The drops seemed much larger, to follow each otherfaster, and with less interval between the downpours.
"Does it always rain this way in June down here?" Si asked a patriarch,who was sitting on his porch by the roadside in a split-bottomedrocking-chair, resting his bony hands on a cane, the head of which was aram's horn, smoking a corn-cob pipe and watching the passing column withlack-luster eyes.
"Sah," said the sage, poking down the ashes in his pipe with his littlefinger, "I've done lived in the Duck River Valley ever sence CaptingJimmy Madison wuz elected President the fust time, and I never seedsich a wet spell as this afore. I reckon hit's all along o' the wah. Weallers have a powerful sight o' rain in wah times. Hit rained powerfulwhen Jinerul Jackson wuz foutin' the Injuns down at Hoss Shoe Bend, andthe Summers durin' the Mexican war wuz mouty wet, but they didn't hold acandle to what we're havin' this yeah. Hit's the shootin' and bangin', Ireckon, that jostles the clouds so's they can't hold in."
"How far is it to Shelbyville, Gran'pap?" asked Shorty.
'DON'T CALL ME YOUR GRAN'PAP.' 35]
"Don't call me yer gran-pap," piped out the old man in angry falsetto,and shaking his cane. "I won't stand hit. I won't stand everything. I'vehad enough ter stand from you Yankees already. You've stole my chickensan' robbed my smoke-house, an' run off my stock, an' I've done stoodhit, but I won't stan' bein' called gran'pap by ye. I've some mouty meangrandsons, some that orter be in the penitentiary, but I hain't nonemean enough t' be in the Yankee army."
"We didn't mean no offense, sir," said Si placatingly. "We really don'twant you for a gran'father. We've got gran'fathers o' our own, andthey're very nice old men, that we wouldn't trade off for anything everraised in Tennessee. Have you anything to eat that you'll sell us? We'llpay you for it."
"No, I haint got nothin' nary mite," quavered the old man. "Your menan' our men have stole everything I have stock, cattle, sheep, hogs,poultry, meat an' meal everything, except my bare land an' my hope o'heaven. Thank God, none on ye kin steal them from me."
"Don't be too blamed sure about that, old feller," said Shorty. "Betterhide 'em. The Maumee Muskrats are jest behind us. They're the worstthieves in the whole army. Don't let 'em know anything about your landor your hope o' salvation, or they'll have it in their haversacks beforeyou kin wink."
"You haint told us yit how far it is to Shelbyville," said Si.
"Young man," said the sage oracularly, "that altogether depends.Sometimes Shelbyville is mouty fur off, an' sometimes she is right here.On bright, cl'ar days, when the roads is good, hit's only a few stepsover thar jest two sees an' a holler."
"What's that?" said Si. "Two sees an' a holler? How far is that?"
"He means," explained Shorty, "that you go as far as you kin see fromthe highest hilltop to the next highest hill-top twice, and then it'sonly about as much farther as your voice will reach."
"Jest so," asserted the patriarch. "I kin saddle my ole nag arterdinner, rack over an' do some tradin', an' rack back agin in time forsupper. But 'when we have sich sorry weather as this, Shelbyville seemson t' other side o' nowhar. You've got t' pull through the mud an' swimevery branch and crick, an' you're mouty lucky if you git thar in aweek."
"Why don't you build bridges over the creeks?" asked Si.
"Can't do hit when hit's rainin' an they're runnin' over thar banks."
"But why don't you do it when the weather's good?"
"What's the use? You kin git over all right then."
"Sir," said the Brigadier-General, riding up and addressing the old man,"where does the Shakerag road come into the Bellbuckle road?"
Instantly the old man felt that he was being asked to give "aid andinformation to the enemy," and his old eyes grew hard and his wrinkledface set. "I don't know, sah."
"Yes, you do," said the Brigadier-General impatiently, "and I want youto tell me."
"I don't know, sah," repeated the old man.
"Are there any works thrown up and any men out there on the Shakeragroad?" asked the Brigadier.
"I don't know, sah."
"Did a large body of rebels go past your house yesterday, and which roaddid they take at the forks?" inquired the Brigadier.
"I don't know, sah."
The Brigadier-General was not in the best of humor, and he chafedvisibly at the old man's answers.
"Does not Goober Creek run down there about a mile in that direction?"he again inquired, pointing with his field-glasses.
"I don't know, sah."
"How long have you lived here?" asked the Brigadier savagely.
"Nigh on to 55 year, sah."
"And you don't know where Goober Creek is, and which way it runs?" askedthe Brigadier, losing all patience.
"No, sah," responded the imperturbable old man.
"Well," said the Brigadier-General grimly, "it is high time that youdiscovered that interesting stream. You might die without seeing it. Men(to Si and Shorty) take him down that road about a mile, where youwill find a considerable body of water which I'm given to understand iscalled Goober Creek. You'll show it to him in all its magnificence andbeauty. Geography is a very interesting study, old man, and it is nottoo late for you to begin getting acquainted with your own country."
The bitter humor of taking a man through the mud and pouring rain to seea creek that he had seen nearly every day of his life for a half-centurywas such that all the men were in a mood to appreciate. Si and Shortyentered into the affair with zest. They put a blanket on the old man'sshoulders, to shelter him from the rain. Such a thing as an umbrella hadnever been in his house. Even the women would have looked upon it as apiece of luxurious effeminacy.
The old fellow grumbled, expostulated, and protested, but if Si andShorty had had no other motive, orders direct from the Brigadier-Generalwould have been executed at any cost. It was the first time that theyhad ever received orders from anybody higher than the Colonel, and theeffect upon them was extraordinary.
"What in the everlastin' kingdom," grumbled he, "kin your niggah-lovin'Yankees expect t' gain by draggin' me out when hit's a-rainin' cats anddogs?"
"Don't know nothin' about it," answered Si, catching him by the shoulderto hurry him up. "'Tain't our business to know. We ain't paid forknowin' anything more than orders, and hardly enough for that. A mancan't know much for $13 a month."
"'Twon't help yer niggeh-stealin' army a mite t' pi'nt out Goober Crickt' me. I ain't gwine t' tote ye over nor show ye the fords."
"Don't care nothin' about that neither," replied Shorty, as they pushedthe old man along through the blinding 'rain. "Our orders is merely toshow you Goober Crick. 'Tain't none o' our business what the Generalwants you to see it for. Mebbe he thinks it 'll improve your mind togaze on the beauties o' nature. Mebbe he thinks you need exercise. Mebbehe thinks a shower-bath'd do you good."
The column had been checked by some difficulty in front, and as the boysconveyed their charge through the ranks of waiting men it seemed thateverybody understood what they were doing, and volleys of sarcasm wereflung at their prisoner. There were inquiries as to how he liked thestudy of geography as far as he had gotten; whether he would continueit in more favorable weather, and whether this primary lesson would befollowed by others on the road to the mill, the path to the stable, andthe way to the spring. If the old man had not already been as angry ashe could be, his temper would have risen.
After a lot of toilsome plodding through the rain and mud which thepassing wagons had made fathomless, they came to the top of a high hill,from which they could look down on a turbid sweep of yellow water, abouthalf a mile away, which filled nearly the whole valley.
The reason of delay was at once apparent. The insignificant stream hadsuddenly become an almost impassable obstacle. Men were riding carefullyacross the submerged bottom land, pro
dding with poles, to pick outcrossings. Others were digging down approaches to what seemed promisingcrossings, and making rude bridges across gullies and smaller streamsthat intervened.
It seemed that the fresh young Aid with whom the boys had the encounterthe day before had in some mysterious way gained charge of the advance.He had graduated into the Engineer Corps from West Point, and here wasan opportunity to display his immense knowledge to the glory of himselfand the Engineers and the astonishment of those inferior persons whowere merely officers of cavalry, infantry and artillery. Now he wouldshow off the shrewd expedients and devices which have embellished thehistory of military engineering since the days of Hannibal and JuliusCesar.
That everybody might know who was doing all this, the Aid was ridingback and forward, loudly commanding parties engaged in various effortsover more than a quarter of a mile of front. He had brought up thepontoon-train, and the pontoniers were having a hard time trying toadvance the boats into the rushing waters. It was all that the men coulddo to hold them against the swift current. If a pole slipped or wentdown in a deep hole the men holding it would slip and probably falloverboard, the boat would whirl around and drift far out of its place,requiring great labor to bring it back again, and bringing down atorrent of curses from the young Lieutenant on the clumsiness of "theStoughton bottles" who were pretending to be soldiers and pontoniers.He was feeling that every word of this kind showed off his superiorknowledge to those around. Some of the men were standing waist-deep inthe water, trying to fasten lines to trees, to hold in place the boatsalready stationed and being held there by arms straining at the poles.Everywhere those engaged in the work were tumbling down in the wateror being carried off their feet by the current and rescued again withdifficulty, to be hauled out on the bank, exhausted, soaked to the skinand covered with slimy mud.
For awhile this had seemed funny to the troops waiting to cross, andthey had yelled and laughed themselves hoarse at the mishaps of theircomrades. Now the fun had all evaporated and everybody was morose, witha strong tendency to outbreaks of profanity.
The old man surveyed the scene with evident satisfaction. "Yo' Yankeeswill git over thar about the middle o' July," he chuckled. "Now, Ireckon that's Goober Crick, an' as I have done seed hit you'll let me goback home, I s'pose, won't ye?"
"That's probably Goober Crick, or at least Goober Crick is somewhereunder that muddy freshet," acquiesced Shorty. "But I'm not at allsure that it's the crick. Looks more like a misplaced chunk out o'the Mizzoori River. I'm not sure, either, that your eyes kin see thatdistance. We'll have to walk you till we find a section of the cricksomewhere that kin be recognized by the naked eyes. Come along, and steplively."
The old man groaned, but there was no hope for him from these relentlessexecutants of orders. For a half hour more they plodded on. The mudgrew deeper at every step, but the boys mercilessly forced the old manthrough the worst of it, that they might reach some point where theycould actually see Goober Crick. He could not palm off on them anycommon old mud freshet for a creek that had a regular place on the map.
Finally they came near the pontoons, and saw one almost capsize,throwing everybody in it into the water, while another whirled madlyaway toward the center of the current, with but one man in, who wasfrantically trying to stop it and save himself.
"Yes, he'll stop it, much," said Shorty, looking after him. "If he gitsashore before he reaches the Mississippi I'll be surprised. Say, Si,it'll be easier lookin' for Goober Crick in a boat than wading throughthe mud. Let's git in one o' them boats."
This terrified the old man till he was ready to yield.
"I begin t' know the place," he admitted. "If we take this path throughthe woods t' the left hit'll bring us out whar yo' kin see Goober Crickfor sartin, an' no mistake. Hit's allers above high-water thar."
The boys followed. A very short walk through a curtain of deep woodsbrought them on to much higher ground, where Goober Creek roared througha narrow channel it had cut in the rocks. As they stood on the banks, Siand Shorty's eyes met in a quick comprehension of the advantages of theplace. They looked backward through the woods to see a depression in thehills, which promised a short and comparatively easy cut-off to the roadin the rear, where the 200th Ind. lay.
"Yes, this is Goober Crick," said the old man, with an air of recallingan old acquaintance. "I'm sure of hit. Now, you'll let me go home, won'tyer? I hain't got a dry thread left on me, an' I know I'll jest fairlydie o' rheumatiz."
"Yes, you can go," said Shorty, who was filling his eyes with the lay ofthe ground, and the chances it offered of getting the 200th Ind. acrossahead of the others and gaining the coveted head of the column. "I'veno doubt you're awful wet, but mebbe you know more'n you did a couple ofhours ago. Skip!"
The old man moved off with alacrity scarcely to be expected of him,and the boys saw that it was wisest to follow him, for he was taking abee-line through the woods and brush for his home, and that they knewwas near where they had left their regiment.
Soon Co. Q, crouching under the cedars and ponchos spread over fencecorners, hovering around struggling fires, and sullenly making the bestof a very poor prospect, was electrified by Si and Shorty appearing onas near a run as they could put up with their weight-soaked garments.
"Capt. McGillicuddy," gasped Si, "we've found a bully place to cross.Tell the Colonel quick. Let the boys git all the axes and shovels theykin, and come with us. We'll have a crossin' ready by the time theColonel comes up with the regiment, and we kin git the advance agin."
Si had gained that enviable position in the regiment where he couldalways have plenty of followers to anything that he proposed. The sullendespondency passed into active alertness as soon as he began speaking,and before he was done some of them were rummaging around the wagons foraxes and shovels. Two or three of these implements were found in the oldman's yard.
"Go ahead," said the Captain. "I'll speak to the Colonel, and we'llfollow you with the regiment. You can get the teams across, too?"
"Certain," said Si, as he handed his gun, cartridge-box, haversack,blanket-roll and overcoat to another boy to carry for him, shoulderedhis ax and started off at a run, the others following.
They came back to the spot whither the old man had led them. Si'sexperienced eye quickly selected two tall hickories, which could befelled directly across the stream and form the stringers for his bridge.The next instant the damp air was ringing with the strokes of eight asskillful axmen as there were in the army, Si leading on one tree andShorty on the other. They could not keep up the feverish pace they hadset for many minutes, but the instant their blows relaxed eight othermen snatched the axes, and in a few minutes the trees toppled and felljust in the right position. Co. Q was now coming up, followed by therest of the regiment, and they gave a cheer to echo the crash of thefalling trees. Instantly hundreds of men and officers were at workclearing a road and completing the bridge. Some cut down other trees tofurnish filling for the approaches, or to split into flooring for thebridge. Some dug down the bank and carried the clay to cover the brushand chunks. In an incredibly short time a bridge was completed, overwhich the regiment was marched, and the wagons pulled by the men, afterthe mules had been detached and walked over.
Every fresh success was announced by tremendous cheering, which carriedinformation to the rest of the brigade that the 200th Ind. was doingsomething unusual. News as to what this was at last reached the ears ofthe Lieutenant of Engineers, who was continuing his struggle with thepontoons with a persistence worthy of better luck.
He rode up just in time to see Capt. McGillicuddy looking with elationat the passage of the last wagon.
"Why was I not informed as to what you were doing here, sir?" he askedangrily.
"Probably because we were too busy doing it to be talking about it.If you had known of it you would probably have tried to apply the 47thproblem of Euclid to the case, and we wouldn't 've got ten over for aweek. Eventually, sir, I expect you will find out that there areseveral things in th
e world that are not learned at West Point. Havingaccomplished all that we want with the bridge, I now have the pleasureof turning it over to the Engineer Department, and I wish that you mayfind it very useful," continued the Captain, as with a mocking smile andsalute he followed the last of the regiment across the creek.
"Adjutant," said Si, saluting that official with great respect, "we'venow got the advance agin, hain't we?"
"You're right we have, you bully boy with a glass eye," said theAdjutant, slapping him on the shoulder with a familiarity that wouldhave given the young Engineer Lieutenant a spasm and caused a strongreport on the discipline of the 200th Ind. "And you can just betwe'll keep it, too. You ought to see the Colonel's eye. We'll lead theprocession into Shelbyville, which is only 15 miles away."