Richard Judkins' Wooing: A Tale of Virginia in the RevolutionHains, T. Jenkins (Thornton Jenkins)
History
Richard Judkins' Wooing: A Tale of Virginia in the Revolution
Hains, T. Jenkins (Thornton Jenkins)
Historical fiction; Virginia -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
"Yes," I said, "I am Richard Judkins, of Judkins' Hall, sir, and am well
known to Lord Dunmore. By what right do you fire upon us while we are
simply out shooting for sport." Here I looked around for our bag and
ammunition flasks to prove the statement, if necessary; but Sam, who had
been carrying almost everything, had run into the bushes before dropping
his burdens, and they were out of sight.
The ammunition left us was not of a character to corroborate my
statement to any degree of exactness. It consisted now of several musket
balls that Will had put in his pocket for use in case we had met larger
game.
"Sport, eh!" snarled the officer, rubbing his shoulder where a shot had
penetrated the skin. "You'll see sport enough before we get through with
you. You may start on them, sergeant."
He turned away abruptly on saying this, and, with half a dozen men
deployed as skirmishers, proceeded to examine the edges of the forest
for traces of a hidden foe.
"So 'tis sport ye're afther, hey?" said the sergeant. "Give yourself no
oneasiness, ye'll see it fast enough. Rooney, me sowl, lay yer hand
tinderly on yer trigger, while I investigate the handsome old un, an' if
he so much as winks his ears, blow his tripes out, d'ye see?"
Barron made no further comment, except to inquire of private Rooney what
particular part of his anatomy held the "tripes" alluded to by the
sergeant.
"Hold yer tongue, ye handsome old man," said that officer. "My sowl, but
ye have a dacent figure av a soldier, despite the years av yer cocoanut.
Fancy him, boys, squinting wan av thim oies av his at a leddy," and he
ended with a hoarse chuckle, while he carefully went through Barron's
pockets.
We were each examined in turn, but nothing of a hostile nature was
discovered, except Will's half dozen bullets. These, with our tobacco
and snuff boxes, were carefully tied up in a handkerchief and carried by
the sergeant to the boat. Our guns were also appropriated.
The officer in charge returned presently from his search along the
shore, and having found nothing in the shape of a foe, he ordered all
hands into the boat.
I protested with some energy against this high handed proceeding, but
was instantly seized by several soldiers while another stuck his bayonet
point half an inch into my back. Will was treated in the same manner,
and Barron, knowing resistance to be useless, set us the example by
walking quickly to the boat and climbing aboard. In a few minutes we
were on our way to the schooner.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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