The Star of Gettysburg: A Story of Southern High TideAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Star of Gettysburg: A Story of Southern High Tide
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Juvenile fiction
"Suppose for a moment, George, my friend,
Just for a moment you condescend
To use the means that are in your hands
The eager muskets and guns and brands;
Take one bold step on the Southern sod,
And leave the issue to watchful God!
For now the nation raises its gorge,
Waiting and watching you, Tardy George."
Harry carefully folded up the paper and put it back in his pocket.
The contrast between these verses and the song that he had just heard
ten thousand men sing, as they whirled around Stonewall Jackson's
headquarters, impressed him deeply.
"It's hard, boys," he said, "for a general to see things like this
printed about him, even if he should deserve them. McClellan, so all
the prisoners say, has the confidence of his men. They believe that
he can win."
"And we know that we can and do win!" exclaimed Langdon. "We've got the
soldiers and the generals, too. Hurrah for Bobby Lee, and Stonewall
Jackson and Jim Longstreet, and old Jubal Early, and A. P. Hill and
D. H. Hill and Jeb Stuart and--and----"
"And for Happy Tom Langdon, the greatest soldier and general of them
all," interrupted Dalton.
"That's true," said Langdon, "only people don't know it yet. Now,
by the great horn spoon, what is that? What a day this is!"
A great uproar had begun suddenly, and, as if by magic, hundreds of men
had risen from the ground and were running about like mad creatures.
But the boys knew that they were not mad. They understood in an instant
what it was all about as they heard innumerable voices crying, "Rabbit!
Rabbit!"
Rabbits were numerous in the underbrush and they made good stew.
The soldiers often surrounded them and caught them with their bare hands,
but they dared not shoot at them, as, owing to the number of pursuers,
somebody would certainly have been hurt.
Harry and his comrades instantly joined in the chase, which led into the
deep woods. The rabbit, frightened into unusual speed by the shouts,
darted into the thick brush and escaped them all.
"Poor little rascal," said Harry, "I'm glad he got away after all.
What good would one rabbit be to an army corps of twenty-five thousand
men?"
As they were returning to their place on the creek bank an orderly came
for Harry, and he was summoned to the tent of Jackson. It was a large
tent spread in the shade of an old oak, and Harry found that Captain
Sherburne had already preceded him there. All signs of splendor were
hidden completely. Jackson once more wore with ease his dingy old gray
clothes, but the skin of his brow was drawn into a tiny knot in the
center, as if he were concentrating thought with his utmost power.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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