The Blue Balloon: A Tale of the Shenandoah ValleyHorsley, Reginald
History
The Blue Balloon: A Tale of the Shenandoah Valley
Horsley, Reginald
Adventure stories; Balloons -- Fiction; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
‘Then take mine, and open the big blade. Now then, rip a great hole in
the back er the tent. Do it soft, now. Don’t make no noise. Hev ye done
it?’
‘Yes,’ answered Ephraim. ‘Am I ter git out thet way?’
‘My land! no. Ye’d be stopped before ye’d gone ten paces. It’s on’y fer
a blind, thet. Now come over hyar. Put yer hands behind yer back ez ef
they war tied, and step out alongside me. See hyar, Eph, this has got
ter be smartly done, fer I must git back ter my post without loss er
time. I’ll take the resk. I can’t do everythin’ I’d like ter do; but
I’ll pilot ye through the camp, and then ye must make a break fer the
woods on yer own account. Ef ye let ’em nab ye agen, ye’re not the man I
take ye fer. Air ye ready? Then come along.’
With considerable difficulty Ephraim clasped his hands behind his back,
owing to the stiffness in his shoulder; but he set his teeth and bore
the pain, and while Jake grasped him by the arm, the two of them set out
with soft but rapid steps through the slumbering camp.
Here and there a head was sleepily lifted; but the sight of a prisoner
at any hour of the day or night was altogether too common to attract
serious attention, and only once did Jake open his mouth to inform a
sentry that he was taking his charge to the provost-marshal.
Presently they reached the tent where the stern dispenser of martial law
slept in blissful unconsciousness that his prey was on the point of
slipping through his fingers. Needless to say they did not enter his
tent, which was at the extreme end of the camp near the river, but
making a slight detour, slipped past it, and almost immediately
afterwards Jake came to a halt.
‘Thet’s all I kin do fer ye, Grizzly,’ he whispered. ‘Ye must trust ter
luck fer the rest. God send ye git safe in. Give a kind thort ter Uncle
Sam sometimes fer this night’s work.’ And before Ephraim could utter a
word of the thanks that rushed to his lips, his benefactor had turned
and left him.
‘Waal,’ thought Ephraim, as he cast himself at full length upon the
ground in order to escape observation, ‘thet Jake Summers is a man down
ter his boots. To think of the few toys I give little Toots bringin’
about all this. I never thort when I made him thet Jack-in-the-box thet
it war ter be the savin’ er my life. My land! I kin sca’cely onderstand
it.’
As he lay, he rapidly revolved plan after plan for his further
procedure, rejecting them all, till at last he made up his mind to
attempt to reach the hut in the forest, and conceal himself therein
until the day broke.
‘It’s resky,’ he thought to himself; ‘but then everythin’s resky jest
now. And it’s better than wanderin’ round in the dark, when I might
plump up against a Yank before I knew whar I war. Thet window is so
handy, too. Onless they come on me from all sides at wanst, I kin slip
through it nicely and away inter the woods.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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