Si Klegg, Book 5: The Deacon's Adventures at Chattanooga in Caring for the BoysMcElroy, John
History
Si Klegg, Book 5: The Deacon's Adventures at Chattanooga in Caring for the Boys
McElroy, John
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
"Now, Jim Humphreys, what in blazes are you bangin' away at now?"
angrily demanded Si, striding up. "At a cotton-tailed rabbit or a
sycamore stump?"
"The woods is full o' rebel cavalry comin' acrost the crick," gasped
Jim, as he rammed down his cartridge. "There, you kin see 'em for
yourself."
"What foh you come dis-a-way, boys?" continued the voice of the man
on horseback. "I done los' you! I fought we done agreed to go ober by
Simpson's hill, an' I jine you dar. I went dat-a-way, an' den I hear you
shootin' ober dis-a-way, an' seed yoh fiah, and I cut acrost to git to
you. Whah'd you git so many guns, an' sich big ones? Sound like sojer
guns. I done beared dem way ober dah, an' I--"
"Hold on, boys," sternly shouted Shorty, springing in front of them and
throwing up their guns. "Don't one o' you dare shoot! Hold up, I say!
Hello, you there! Who are you?"
"Who's me?" said the negro, astonished by the strange voice. "I's Majah
Wilkinson's Sam, Massa Patrol. I's got a pass all right. De old Majah
done tole me I could go out coon-huntin' wid Kunnel Oberly's boys
tonight, but I done missed dem."
"Come ashore here, boy," commanded Shorty, "and be thankful that you're
alive. You've had a mighty narrow squeak of it. Next time you go out
coon huntin' be sure there's no Yankee and rebel soldiers huntin' one
another in the neighborhood. Coons have a tough time then."
"Yankee sojers!" gasped the negro, as he was led back to the fire, and
saw the blue uniforms. "Lawdy, massy, don't kill me. I pray, sah, don't.
I hain't done nuffin. Sho' I hain't. Massa said you'd burn me alibe if
you eber cotched me, but you won't, will you?"
"We ain't goin' to hurt you," said Shorty. "Sit down there by the fire
and git the goose-flesh offen you." Then turning to the boys he remarked
sarcastically:
"Fine lot o' marksmen you are, for a fact. Halfa dozen o' you bangin'
away at a hundred yards, and not comin' close enough to a nigger to let
him know you was shootin' at him. Now will you lay down and go to sleep?
Here, Si, you take charge o' this gang and let me go to sleep. I've had
enough o' them for one night."
During the night a train came up, carrying a regiment of entirely
new troops. In the morning these scattered over the ground, scanning
everything with the greatest interest and drinking in every detail of
the thrilling events of the previous night.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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