Historic Tales: The Romance of Reality. Vol. 01 (of 15), American (1)Morris, Charles
History
Historic Tales: The Romance of Reality. Vol. 01 (of 15), American (1)
Morris, Charles
United States -- History
"If you can keep out of the way of rebel scouts for
twenty-four hours more," he continued, "you will very likely
come across some of your own troops. But you are on very
dangerous ground. Here is the scouting-place of both armies,
and guerillas and bushwackers are everywhere."
Thanking him, and with hearts filled with new hope, the
wanderers started forward. At midnight they reached the
negro cabin to which they had been directed, where, to their
great relief, they obtained a substantial meal of
corn-bread, pork, and rye coffee, and, what was quite as
acceptable, a warming from a bright fire. The friendly black
warned them, as their late informant had done, of the danger
of the ground they had yet to traverse.
These warnings caused them to proceed very cautiously, after
leaving the hospitable cabin of their sable entertainer. But
they had not gone far before they met an unexpected and
vexatious obstacle, a river or creek, the Diascon, as the
negroes named it. They crossed it at length, but not without
great trouble and serious loss of time.
It was now the sixth night since their escape. Hitherto
Captain Rowan had been a model of strength, perseverance,
and judgment. Now these qualities seemed suddenly to leave
him. The terrible strain, mental and physical, to which they
had been exposed, and their sufferings from cold, fatigue,
and hunger, produced their effect at last, and he became
physically prostrate and mentally indifferent. Captain
Earle, who retained his energies, had great difficulty in
persuading him to proceed, and before daybreak was obliged
to let him stop and rest.
When dawn appeared they found themselves in an open country,
affording poor opportunities for concealment. They felt
sure, however, that they must be near the Union outposts.
With these considerations they concluded to make their
journey now by day, and in a road. In truth, Rowan had lost
all care as to how they went and what became of them, and
his companion's energy and decision were on the decline.
Onward they trudged, mile by mile, with keen enjoyment of
the highway after their bitter experience of by-ways, and
somewhat heedless of consequences, though glad to perceive
that no human form was in sight. Nine o'clock came. Before
them the road curved sharply. They walked steadily onward.
But as they neared the curve there came to their ears a most
disquieting sound, the noise of hoofs on the hard road-bed,
the rattle of cavalry equipments. A force of horsemen was
evidently approaching. Were they Union or Confederate? Was
freedom or renewed captivity before them? They looked
quickly to right and left. No opportunity for concealment
appeared. Nor was there a moment's time for flight, for the
sound of hoof-beats was immediately followed by the
appearance of mounted and uniformed men, a cavalry squad,
still some hundreds of yards away, but riding towards them
at full gallop.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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