United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
voices and the feet came nearer, and at last stopped directly in front
of his hiding-place.
There were terrible oaths outside, and bitter denunciations were
breathed against any luckless Union man who might be lurking near, and
then the light from the entrance of the cave was wholly obscured, and
Will saw that a man’s back was against the opening, as if some one were
sitting there. _Did_ they know of the cave? Would they come in there,
and if they did would they find him? Will kept asking himself these
questions and his breath came gaspingly as he knew that the man whose
back barred the entrance to his hiding-place was the bitterest in his
invectives against the Yankees, and the most anxious to find them.
Something in his voice and language indicated both education and
position superior to his companions, who evidently looked up to him as
their leader, calling him “_Square_,” and acquiescing readily when,
after the lapse of ten or fifteen minutes, he suggested that they go
higher up the mountain to a gorge where some of the fugitives had
heretofore taken refuge.
Five minutes more and the footsteps and voices were heard far up the
mountain, and Will breathed more freely again, and kneeling down in the
pool of water, thanked God who had turned the danger aside, and kept him
a little longer. He did not dare leave the cave, but he came out from
under the rock, and stretching himself upon the ground tried to wring
and dry the tatters which hung so loosely upon him.
It was two days since he had tasted food, and the long fast began to
make itself felt in the keen pangs of hunger. Surely he could venture
out toward the close of the day, he thought, and see if there were not
berries growing in the ledges, and when the sun was setting he crawled
to the mouth of the cavern, where just in the best place for him to see
it lay a huge corn-cake and slice of bacon, wrapped nicely in a bit of
paper.
How it came there he did not stop to ask. That it was there was
sufficient for him then, and never had the costliest dinner, served on
massive silver, tasted to him half so well as did that bit of bacon with
the coarse corn bread.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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