Si Klegg, Book 4

by John McElroy

  CHAPTER V. AFLOAT ON A LOG

  SI, SHORTY AND THE WEST-POINTER HAVE AN EVENTFUL JOURNEY.

  THE log swept out into the yellow swirl, bobbing up and down in theturbulent current.

  "Bobs like a buckin' broncho," said Shorty. "Make you seasick, Si?"

  "Not yet," answered his partner. "I ain't so much afraid o' that as Iam that some big alligator-gar 'll come along and take his dinner off myleg."

  "Bah," said Shorty, contemptuously; "no alligator-gar is goin' tocome up into this mud-freshet. He'd ruther hunt dogs and nigger-babiesfurther down the river. Likes 'em better. He ain't goin' to gnaw at themold Wabash sycamore legs o' yourn when he kin git a bite at them fatshoats we saw sailin' down stream awhile ago."

  "The belief in alligator-gar is a vulgar and absurd superstition,"said the Lieutenant, breaking silence for the first time. "There, isn'tanywhere in fresh water a fish capable of eating anything bigger than abull-frog."

  "Hullo; did West Point learn you that?" said Shorty. "You know justabout as much about it as you do about gittin' over cricks an' paddlin'a canoe. Have you ever bin interduced to a Mississippi catfish? Have youever seen an alligator-gar at home in the Lower Mississippi? Naw! Youdon't know no more about them than a baby does about a catamount. I haveheard tell of an alligator-gar that was longer'n a fence-rail, and sortof king of a little bayou down in the Teche country. He got mad becausethey run a little stern-wheel steamboat up into his alley to git theircotton off, an' he made up his mind to stop it. He'd circle 'roundthe boat to git a good headway and pick out his man. Then he'd take arun-and-jump, leap clean across the boat, knock off the man he'd pickedout, an' tow him off under a log an' eat him. He intended to take theCaptain fust, but his appetite got the better of him. He saw a big, fat,juicy buck nigger of a deck-hand, an' couldn't stand the temptation. Hefetched him easy. Next he took a nice, tender little cabin-boy. Then hefetched the big old Mate, but found him so full o' terbacker, whisky andbad language that he couldn't eat him nohow, an' turned him over to themudturtles, what'll eat anything. The Captain then got scared an' quit.He didn't care a hat for the Mate, for he was glad to git rid of him;but he liked the cabin-boy an' he had to pay the owner o' the nigger$1,200 for him, an' that made runnin' up the Teche onprofitable."

  "Oh, Shorty," Si gasped. He thought he was acquainted with his partner'sbrilliant talents for romance, but this was a meteoric flight that hehad not expected.

  "But that wasn't nothin'," Shorty continued, "to a he catfish that a mantold me about down near Helena, Ark. He used to swim around in a littlechute near a house-cabin in which lived a man with a mighty good-lookin'young wife. The man was awful jealous of his woman, an' used to beather. The ole he catfish had a fine eye for purty women, and used tocavort around near the cabin whenever his business would permit. Thewoman noticed him, and it tickled him greatly. She'd throw him hunks o'bread, chunks o' cold meat, and so on. The man'd come out and slap her,and fling clubs and knots at him. One day the man put his wife in abasswood canoe, and started to take her across the river. He hadn't gota rod from the shore when the old he catfish ups and bites the canoe intwo, then nips the man's hand so's he didn't git over it for months, andthen puts his nose under the woman's arm, and helps her ashore as politeas you please."

  "Shorty," gasped Si, "if you tell any more such stories as that thislog'll certainly sink. See it how it wobbles now."

  "I consider such stuff very discourteous to your officer," said theLieutenant stiffly. "I shall make a note of it for consideration at somefuture time."

  "Halt! Who goes thar?" rang out sharply from the bank.

  "Hush; don't breathe," said Shorty. They were in an eddy, which wassweeping them close to the rebel bank.

  "Who air yo' haltin'?" said a second voice.

  "I see some men in a canoe out thar. I heared their voices fust," saidthe first voice.

  "Whar' yo see any men in a canoe?" asked the second incredulously.

  "Right over thar. You kin see 'em. They're comin' right this-a-way. I'ma gwine t' halt 'em agin an' then shoot."

  "Stuff," said the other. "You're allers seein' shadders an' ghostses.That 'er's only an ole tree with three limbs stickin' up. Don't yo'shoot an' skeer the whole camp. They'll have the grand laugh on yo', an'mebbe buck-an'-gag yo'."

  "'Tain't stuff," persisted the other. "Thar never wuz a tree that evergrowed that had three as big limbs as that all on one side. You're moonblind."

  "A man mout well be rain blind in sich a storm as this, but I tell yo'that's nothin' but an ole sycamore drift log. If yo' shoot theboys'll never git tired o' damnin' yo', an' jest as likely as not theossifers'll make yo' tote a rail through the mud termorrer."

  The boys were so near that every word could be distinctly heard, andthey were floating nearer every moment.

  The suspense was thrilling. If the man fired at that distance he couldnot help hitting one of them and discovering the others. They scarcelybreathed, and certainly did not move a muscle, as the log floatedsteadily in-shore in the comparatively stiller waters of the eddy. Therain was coming down persistently yet, but with a sullen quietness, sothat the silence was not broken by the splashing of the drops.

  A water-moccasin deadliest of snakes crawled up onto the log and coiledhimself in front of Si, with that indifference to companionship whichseems to possess all animals in flood-times. Si shuddered as he saw it,but did not dare make a motion against it.

  The dialog on the bank continued.

  "Thar, you kin see thar air men in a canoe," said the first voice.

  "I can't see nothin' o' the kind," replied the other.

  "If hit ain't a log with three dead limbs, hit's a piece o' barn-timberwith the j'ists a-stickin' up."

  "I don't believe hit nary mite. Hit's men, an' I'm a-gwine t' shoot."

  "No, yo' hain't gwine t' make a durned fool o' yourself. Wait a minute.Hit's a-comin' nigher, an' soon you kin hit it with a rock. I'll jestdo hit t' show yo how skeery yo' air. Le'me look around an' find agood rock t' throw. If I kin find jest the right kind I kin hit ayallerhammer at that distance."

  This prospect was hardly more reassuring than that of being fired at,but there was nothing to do but to take whatever might come. To make itmore aggravating, the current had slowed down, until the motion of theirlog was very languid. They were about 100 feet from the shore when theyheard the second voice say:

  "Heah, I've got jest the right kind o' a dornick. Now jest keep yer eyepeeled an' fixed on that center limb, an' yo'll hear it chunk when Iplunk hit an' show hit's nothin' but a stick o' wood."

  Si thought he saw the Lieutenant crouch a little, but was not sure.

  The stone came whistling through the air, struck the top of theLieutenant's cap and knocked it off into the water.

  "Thar," said the second voice triumphantly; "yo' see hit ain't no men.Jest as I done tole yo'. I knocked the bark offen the end o' one o' thesticks."

  The log moved slowly on, and presently catching in a stronger current,swept out into the stream again. It seemed so like deliverance, that Simade a quick blow and knocked the snake off into the water, and Shortycould not help shouting triumphantly:

  "Good-by, Johnnies! Sorry we can't stay with you longer. Got otherengagements down the crick. Ta-ta! See you later."

  The chagrined sentry fired an angry shot, but they were already behind aclump of willows.

  "Lootenant," said Shorty, "you put on a whole lot of unnecessary frills,but you've got good stuff in you after all. You went through that littleaffair like a man. I'll back you after this."

  "When I desire your opinion, sir, as to my conduct," replied theLieutenant, "I shall ask you for it. Until then keep it to yourself. Itis for me to speak of your conduct, not you of mine."

  But again they "had hollered before they were out o' the woods," asShorty afterward expressed it. The gunfire and the sound of their voicesso near shore had stirred up the rebels. A canoe with three men init had pushed out, and, struggling with the current, had made its wa
ytoward them, guided by their own voices. The top of a floating tree hadhidden it from their sight until it suddenly came around the mass ofleafage, and a man standing up in the bow leveling a revolver at themordered instant surrender. The other two men were sitting in the middleand stern with paddles, and having all they could do to maintain thecourse of the canoe.

  Si and Shorty were so startled that for an instant they made no responseto the demand. The Lieutenant was the first to speak:

  "Are you a commissioned officer?" he inquired.

  "No," was the answer.

  "Then I refuse to surrender. I'll surrender to no one inferior to me inrank."

  "Sorry we'uns can't obleege yo', nohow," said the man with the revolver,in a sneer; "but we'uns'll have t' be good enough commissioned ossifersfor yo' jist now, an' yo'll have t' done hold up yo'uns hands. We'unshain't no time t' send ashore for a Lootenant."

  The other two chuckled as they struggled with the current, and forcedthe canoe up close to the log. Shorty made a motion as if throwing uphis hands, and called out in a submissive way:

  "Here, le'me git hold o' the bow, and I kin help you. It's awful hardpaddlin' in this current."

  Without thinking the men threw the bow in so close that Shorty couldclutch it with his long hand. The grab shook the ticklish craft, so thatthe man with the revolver could scarcely keep his feet.

  "Heah," he yelled at the other two. "Keep the dugout stiddy. What airyo'uns doin'? Hold her off, I tell yo'uns."

  Then to the Lieutenant:

  "Heah, yo'uns surrender to wonst, or I'll blow yo' heads offen yo'uns."

  The Lieutenant started a further remonstrance, but Shorty had in themeantime got the other hand on the canoe, and he gave it such a wrenchthat the man with the pistol lost his footing and fell across the log,where he was grabbed by Shorty and his pistol-hand secured. The stern ofthe canoe had swung around until Si had been able to catch it with onehand, while with the other he grabbed the man in the stern, who, seeingthe sudden assumption of hostilities, had raised his paddle to strike.

  Si and Shorty had somewhat the advantage in position. By holding on tothe log with their legs they had a comparatively firm, base, while thecanoe was a very ticklish foundation for a fight.

  The middle man also raised his paddle to strike, but the Lieutenantcaught it and tried to wrest it away. This held the canoe and the logclose together while Si and Shorty were struggling. Si saw this, andletting go, devoted both hands to this man, whom he pulled over intothe water about the same time that Shorty possessed himself of the otherman's pistol and dragged him out of the canoe.

  "Hold fast in the center there, Lieutenant," he called out, as hedropped the pistol into his bosom and took in the situation with a quickglance. "You two Johnnies hold on to the log like grim death to a deadnigger, and you won't drown."

  He carefully worked himself from the log into the canoe, and then Si didthe same. They had come to a part where the water spread out in a broadand tolerably calm lake over the valley, but there was a gorge at thefurther end through which it was rushing with a roar. Log and canoe weredrifting in that direction, and while the changes were being made thecanoe drifted away from the log.

  "Hold on, men," shouted the Lieutenant; "you are certainly not going toabandon your officer?"

  "Certainly not," said Shorty. "How could you imagine such a thing?But just how to trade you off for this rebel passenger presentsdifficulties. If we try to throw him overboard we shall certainly tipthe canoe over. And I'm afraid he's not the man to give up peaceably adry seat in the canoe for your berth on the log."

  "I order you to come back here at once and take me in that boat," saidthe Lieutenant imperatively.

  "We are comin' back all right," said Shorty; "but we're not goin' tolet you tip this canoe over for 40 Second Lieutenants. We'll git you outo' the scrape somehow. Don't fret."

  "Hello, thar! Help! Help!" came across the waters in agonized tones,which at the same time had some thing familiar in them.

  "Hello, yourself!" responded Shorty, making out, a little distance away,a "jo-boat," that is, a rude, clumsy square-bottomed, square-ended sortof a skiff in which was one man. "What's wanted?"

  "I'm out here adrift without no oars," came in the now-distinctlyrecognizable voice of Jeff Hackberry. "Won't yo' please tow me ashore?"

  "Le's go out there and git him," said Shorty to Si. "We kin put allthese fellers in that jo-boat and save 'em."

  A few strokes of their paddles brought them alongside.

  "How in the world did you come here, Hackberry," asked Shorty.

  "O, that ole woman that I wanted so bad that I couldn't rest till Igot her wuz red-hot t' git rid o' me," whined Hackberry. "She triedhalf-a-dozen ways puttin' wild parsnip in my likker, giving me pokeberrybitters, and so on, but nothin' fetched me. Finally she deviled me tocarry her acrost the crick to the Confederit lines. I found this olejo-boat at last, an' we got in. Suddenly, quick as lightning she pickedup the oars, an' give the boat a kick which sent hit away out into thecurrent. I floated away, yellin' at her, an' she standin' on the bankgrinnin' at me and cussin'. I've been havin' the awfulest day floatin'down the freshet, expectin' every minute t' be drowned, an' both sidespluggin' away at me whenever they ketched sight o' me. I wuz willin' t'surrender t' either one that'd save me from being drownded, but none of'em seemed t' care a durn about my drowndin'; they only wanted t' plugme."

  "Please save me, Mister," begged Jeff, "an' I'll do anything under theshinin' sun for yo'; I'll jine the Yankee army; I'll lead you' to wharthar's nests o' the pizenest bushwhackers. I'll do anything yo' kin axme. Only save me from being drownded. Right down thar's the big falls,an' if I go over them, nothin' kin same me from drowndin'." And he begana doleful blubbering.

  "On general principles, I think that'd be the best thing that couldhappen," remarked Shorty. "But I haven't time to discuss that now. Willyou do just what we want, if we save your life?"

  "Yes; yes," responded he eagerly.

  "Well, if you don't, at the very minute I tell you, I'll plug you forcertain with this," said Shorty, showing the revolver. "Mind, I'll notspeak twice. I'll give you no warnin'. You do what I tell you on thejump, or I'll be worse to you than Mrs. Bolster. First place, take thisman in with you. And you (to the rebel in the canoe) mind how you gitinto that boat. Don't you dare, on your life, kick the canoe over as youcrawl out. If I find it rocks the least bit as you leave I'll bust yourcocoanut as the last act of my military career. Now crawl out."

  The rebel crawled over the gunwale into the boat as cautiously as ifthere were torpedoes under him.

  "Now," said Shorty, with a sigh of relief, as the man was at last out ofthe canoe, "we'll paddle around here and pick up some pieces of boardsfor you to use as oars. Then you bring the boat over to that log."

  This was done, and the Lieutenant and the two rebels clinging to the logwere transferred to the jo-boat. The moment the Lieutenant felt himselfin the comparative security of the jo-boat his desire for commandasserted itself.

  "Now, men," said he, authoritatively, "pull away for the other side,pointing up stream. That glow over there is our campfires. Make for it."

  "All right, Lootenant," said Shorty. "You command that boat. You've gotyour revolver with you, and kin make 'em mind. We'll pick up some moreboards, so as to have oars for all o' 'em. They'd better use 'em lively,for it ain't a great ways t' the suck. If you git into that you'll go toDavy Jones's as sure as the Lord made little apples. Paddle, now, if youvalue your lives. Me and Si are goin' back to look for that galoot thatshot at us. We want to make a present of him to our Colonel, who's afterinformation from the other side. We want his gun and another one to makeup for the two that we had to leave on the island. We'll join you beforeyou git acrost."

  The Lieutenant lifted up his voice in remonstrance against the desperateundertaking, but Si and Shorty paddled swiftly away, leaving him and hissquad to struggle over the muddy lake in their clumsy bateau.

  Though the boys were s
adly worn by the day's exciting adventures, yetthey were animated by the hope of doing something that would signallyretrieve their earlier misfortunes. Both were adepts at canoenavigation, the canoe was light and easily managed with but two in it,and they had gotten the lay of the shore so well in mind that they feltsure that they could slip around and come in on the man who had firedupon them. The drizzle of the rain helped curtain them; they pushed thecanoe through the top of a paw-paw thicket that rose but a little wayabove the flood, Shorty sprang out, and in a few steps came up behindthe two pickets, who were crouching over a little fire they had builtbehind the cover of some dense weeds.

  "Was this the post that fired on men in a canoe a little while ago?" heasked, as if a rebel officer out on a tour of investigation.

  "Yes," the men stammered, as soon as they could recover from the startleof his sudden appearance.

  "Which man fired?" asked Shorty.

  "Me," answered one.

  "Well, I want you and both your guns," said Shorty, thrusting hisrevolver against the man's face. "Pick up them guns and go right aheadthere."

  The man meekly did as bid, and in a few minutes was landed into thecanoe, into which Shorty jumped and pushed off. When nearly across theycame upon the jo-boat, with the Lieutenant standing erect with drawnrevolver, while the men were laboring hard to propel it to shore.The boys fastened its painter to the stern of the canoe and helped bytowing.

  They headed for a large fire burning brightly on the bank, indicatingthat it was the headquarters of the pickets. In response to the sharpchallenge, the Lieutenant responded:

  "Friends, without the countersign."

  Quite a number of officers and men thronged to the water's edge tosee what could be coming from that unexpected quarter. The Lieutenantordered the boys to fall to the rear with their canoe, that he mightbe the first to land, and as his bateau labored close to the shore herecognized the Colonel in command of the picket line, and said in a loudvoice:

  "Sir, I have the honor to report that I have been across the creekreconnoitering the enemy's lines. I have with me five prisoners foursoldiers and one guerrilla."