CHAPTER VIII.
As time went by the condition of things at Oakland changed--as it dideverywhere else. The boys' mother, like all the other ladies of thecountry, was so devoted to the cause that she gave to the soldiersuntil there was nothing left. After that there was a failure of thecrops, and the immediate necessities of the family and the hands onthe place were great.
There was no sugar nor coffee nor tea. These luxuries had been givenup long before. An attempt was made to manufacture sugar out of thesorghum, or sugar-cane, which was now being cultivated as anexperiment; but it proved unsuccessful, and molasses made from thecane was the only sweetening. The boys, however, never liked anythingsweetened with molasses, so they gave up everything that had molassesin it. Sassafras tea was tried as a substitute for tea, and a drinkmade out of parched corn and wheat, of burnt sweet potato and otherthings, in the place of coffee; but none of them were fit to drink--atleast so the boys thought. The wheat crop proved a failure; but thecorn turned out very fine, and the boys learned to live on corn bread,as there was no wheat bread.
The soldiers still came by, and the house was often full of youngofficers who came to see the boys' cousins. The boys used to ride thehorses to and from the stables, and, being perfectly fearless, becamevery fine riders.
Several times, among the visitors, came the young colonel who hadcommanded the regiment that had camped at the bridge the first year ofthe war. It did not seem to the boys that Cousin Belle liked him, forshe took much longer to dress when he came; and if there were otherofficers present she would take very little notice of the colonel.
Both boys were in love with her, and after considerable hesitation hadwritten her a joint letter to tell her so, at which she laughedheartily and kissed them both and called them her sweethearts. But,though they were jealous of several young officers who came from timeto time, they felt sorry for the colonel,--their cousin was so mean tohim. They were on the best terms with him, and had announced theirintention of going into his regiment if only the war should last longenough. When he came there was always a scramble to get his horse;though of all who came to Oakland he rode the wildest horses, as bothboys knew by practical experience.
At length the soldiers moved off too far to permit them to come onvisits, and things were very dull. So it was for a long while.
But one evening in May, about sunset, as the boys were playing in theyard, a man came riding through the place on the way to Richmond. Hishorse showed that he had been riding hard. He asked the nearest way to"Ground-Squirrel Bridge." The Yankees, he said, were coming. It was araid. He had ridden ahead of them, and had left them about Greenbaydepot, which they had set on fire. He was in too great a hurry to stopand get something to eat, and he rode off, leaving much excitementbehind him; for Greenbay was only eight miles away, and Oakland layright between two roads to Richmond, down one or the other of whichthe party of raiders must certainly pass.
It was the first time the boys ever saw their mother exhibit so muchemotion as she then did. She came to the door and called:
"Balla, come here." Her voice sounded to the boys a little strainedand troubled, and they ran up the steps and stood by her. Balla cameto the portico, and looked up with an air of inquiry. He, too, showedexcitement.
"Balla, I want you to know that if you wish to go, you can do so."
"Hi, Mistis----" began Balla, with an air of reproach; but she cut himshort and kept on.
"I want you all to know it." She was speaking now so as to be heard bythe cook and the maids who were standing about the yard listening toher. "I want you all to know it--every one on the place! You can go ifyou wish; but, if you go, you can never come back!"
"Hi, Mistis," broke in Uncle Balla, "whar is I got to go? I wuz bornon dis place an' I 'spec' to die here, an' be buried right _yonder_;"and he turned and pointed up to the dark clumps of trees that markedthe graveyard on the hill, a half mile away, where the colored peoplewere buried. "Dat I does," he affirmed positively. "Y' all sticks byus, and we'll stick by you."
"I know I ain't gwine nowhar wid no Yankees or nothin'," said LucyAnn, in an undertone.
"Dee tell me dee got hoofs and horns," laughed one of the women in theyard.
The boys' mother started to say something further to Balla, but thoughshe opened her lips, she did not speak; she turned suddenly and walkedinto the house and into her chamber, where she shut the door behindher. The boys thought she was angry, but when they softly followed hera few minutes afterward, she got up hastily from where she had beenkneeling beside the bed, and they saw that she had been crying. Amurmur under the window called them back to the portico. It had begunto grow dark; but a bright spot was glowing on the horizon, and onthis every one's gaze was fixed.
"Where is it, Balla? What is it?" asked the boys' mother, her voiceno longer strained and harsh, but even softer than usual.
"It's the depot, madam. They's burnin' it. That man told me they wasburnin' ev'ywhar they went."
"Will they be here to-night?" asked his mistress.
"No, marm; I don' hardly think they will. That man said they couldn'ttravel more than thirty miles a day; but they'll be plenty of 'em hereto-morrow--to breakfast." He gave a nervous sort of laugh.
"Here,--you all come here," said their mistress to the servants. Shewent to the smoke-house and unlocked it. "Go in there and get down thebacon--take a piece, each of you." A great deal was still left."Balla, step here." She called him aside and spoke earnestly in anundertone.
"Yes'm, that's so; that's jes' what I wuz gwine do," the boys heardhim say.
Their mother sent the boys out. She went and locked herself in herroom, but they heard her footsteps as she turned about within, and nowand then they heard her opening and shutting drawers and movingchairs.
In a little while she came out.
"Frank, you and Willy go and tell Balla to come to the chamber door.He may be out in the stable."
They dashed out, proud to bear so important a message. They could notfind him, but an hour later they heard him, coming from the stable.He at once went into the house. They rushed into the chamber, wherethey found the door of the closet open.
"Balla, come in here," called their mother from within. "Have you gotthem safe?" she asked.
"Yes'm; jes' as safe as they kin be. I want to be 'bout here when theycome, or I'd go down an' stay whar they is."
"What is it?" asked the boys.
"Where is the best place to put that?" she said, pointing to a large,strong box in which, they knew, the finest silver was kept; indeed,all excepting what was used every day on the table.
"Well, I declar', Mistis, that's hard to tell," said the old driver,"without it's in the stable."
"They may burn that down."
"That's so; you might bury it under the floor of the smoke-house?"
"I have heard that they always look for silver there," said the boys'mother. "How would it do to bury it in the garden?"
"That's the very place I was gwine name," said Balla, with flatteringapproval. "They can't burn _that_ down, and if they gwine dig for itthen they'll have to dig a long time before they git over that biggarden." He stooped and lifted up one end of the box to test itsweight.
"I thought of the other end of the flower-bed, between the bigrose-bush and the lilac."
"That's the very place I had in my mind," declared the old man. "Theywon' never fine it dyah!"
"We know a good place," said the boys both together; "it's a heapbetter than that. It's where we bury our treasures when we play'Black-beard the Pirate.'"
"Very well," said their mother; "I don't care to know where it isuntil after to-morrow, anyhow. I know I can trust you," she added,addressing Balla.
"Yes'm, you know dat," said he, simply. "I'll jes' go an' git my hoe."
"The garden hasn't got a roof to it, has it, Unc' Balla?" asked Willy,quietly.
"Go 'way from here, boy," said the old man, making a sweep at him withhis hand. "That boy ain' never done talkin' 'bout that thin
g yit," headded, with a pleased laugh, to his mistress.
"And you ain't ever given me all those chickens either," respondedWilly, forgetting his grammar.
"Oh, well, I'm _gwi'_ do it; ain't you hear me say I'm gwine do it?"he laughed as he went out.
The boys were too excited to get sleepy before the silver was hidden.Their mother told them they might go down into the garden and helpBalla, on condition that they would not talk.
"That's the way we always do when we bury the treasure. Ain't it,Willy?" asked Frank.
"If a man speaks, it's death!" declared Willy, slapping his hand onhis side as if to draw a sword, striking a theatrical attitude andspeaking in a deep voice.
"Give the 'galleon' to us," said Frank.
"No; be off with you," said their mother.
"That ain't the way," said Frank. "A pirate never digs the hole untilhe has his treasure at hand. To do so would prove him but a novice;wouldn't it, Willy?"
"Well, I leave it all to you, my little Buccaneers," said theirmother, laughing. "I'll take care of the spoons and forks we use everyday. I'll just hide them away in a hole somewhere."
The boys started off after Balla with a shout, but remembered theirerrand and suddenly hushed down to a little squeal of delight at beingactually engaged in burying treasure--real silver. It seemed too goodto be true, and withal there was a real excitement about it, for howcould they know but that some one might watch them from somehiding-place, or might even fire into them as they worked?
They met the old fellow as he was coming from the carriage-house witha hoe and a spade in his hands. He was on his way to the garden in avery straightforward manner, but the boys made him understand that tobury treasure it was necessary to be particularly secret, and aftersome little grumbling, Balla humored them.
The difficulty of getting the box of silver out of the house secretly,whilst all the family were up, and the servants were moving about, wasso great that this part of the affair had to be carried on in a mannerdifferent from the usual programme of pirates of the first water. Eventhe boys had to admit this; and they yielded to old Balla's advice onthis point, but made up for it by additional formality, ceremony, andsecrecy in pointing out the spot where the box was to be hid.
Old Balla was quite accustomed to their games and fun--their "pranks,"as he called them. He accordingly yielded willingly when they marchedhim to a point at the lower end of the yard, on the opposite side fromthe garden, and left him. But he was inclined to give trouble whenthey both reappeared with a gun, and in a whisper announced that theymust march first up the ditch which ran by the spring around the footof the garden.
"Look here, boys; I ain' got time to fool with you chillern," said theold man. "Ain't you hear your ma tell me she 'pend on me to bury thatsilver what yo' gran'ma and gran'pa used to eat off o'--an' don' wan'nobody to know nothin' 'bout it? An' y' all comin' here with guns,like you huntin' squ'rr'ls, an' now talkin' 'bout wadin' in theditch!"
"But, Unc' Balla, that's the way all buccaneers do," protested Frank.
"Yes, buccaneers always go by water," said Willy.
"And we can stoop in the ditch and come in at the far end of thegarden, so nobody can see us," added Frank.
"Bookanear or bookafar,--I's gwine in dat garden and dig a hole wid myhoe, an' I is too ole to be wadin' in a ditch like chillern. I got themisery in my knee now, so bad I'se sca'cely able to stand. I don'tknow huccome y' all ain't satisfied with the place you' ma an' I donepick, anyways."
This was too serious a mutiny for the boys. So it was finally greedthat one gun should be returned to the office, and that they shouldenter by the gate, after which Balla was to go with the boys by theway they should show him, and see the spot they thought of.
They took him down through the weeds around the garden, crouchingunder the rose-bushes, and at last stopped at a spot under the slope,completely surrounded by shrubbery.
"Here is the spot," said Frank in a whisper, pointing under one of thebushes.
"It's in a line with the longest limb of the big oak-tree by thegate," added Willy, "and when this locust bush and that cedar grow tobe big trees, it will be just half-way between them."
As this seemed to Balla a very good place, he set to work at once todig, the two boys helping him as well as they could. It took a greatdeal longer to dig the hole in the dark than they had expected, andwhen they got back to the house everything was quiet.
The boys had their hats pulled over their eyes, and had turned theirjackets inside out to disguise themselves.
"It's a first-rate place! Ain't it, Unc' Balla?" they said, as theyentered the chamber where their mother and aunt were waiting for them.
"Do you think it will do, Balla?" their mother asked.
"Oh, yes, madam; it's far enough, an' they got mighty comical ways toget dyah, wadin' in ditch an' things--it will do. I ain' sho' I kinfin' it ag'in myself." He was not particularly enthusiastic. Now,however, he shouldered the box, with a grunt at its weight, and theparty went slowly out through the back door into the dark. The glow ofthe burning depot was still visible in the west.
Then it was decided that Willy should go before--he said to"reconnoitre," Balla said "to open the gate and lead the way,"--andthat Frank should bring up the rear.
They trudged slowly on through the darkness, Frank and Willy watchingon every side, old Balla stooping under the weight of the big box.
After they were some distance in the garden they heard, or thoughtthey heard, a sound back at the gate, but decided that it was nothingbut the latch clicking; and they went on down to their hiding place.
In a little while the black box was well settled in the hole, and thedirt was thrown upon it. The replaced earth made something of a mound,which was unfortunate. They had not thought of this; but they coveredit with leaves, and agreed that it was so well hidden, the Yankeeswould never dream of looking there.
"Unc' Balla, where are your horses?" asked one of the boys.
"That's for me to know, an' them to find out what kin," replied theold fellow with a chuckle of satisfaction.
The whole party crept back out of the garden, and the boys were soondreaming of buccaneers and pirates.
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