"Surrender, or You are a Dead Man!""Surrender, or You are a Dead Man!"Page32.
"And what company is that?"
"Cap'n Casswell's command—unattached."
"Casswell's guerillas, eh?"
"We ain't guerillas—we belong to the boys in gray."
"Does your captain hold a commission from headquarters?"
"'Tain't fer me to answer thet question, Major."
"From the fact that you refuse to answer it, I infer that he does not; consequently he is nothing but a guerilla, and worse, and you are—"
"Hold on, Major, don't be too hard on a poor fellow who has his living to make."
"This isn't making a living—it's stealing one. Tell me truthfully, is Gaffy Denny with your company?"
"Gaffy Denny is first leftenant, Major."
"Where are the others?"
"Somewhere around the house and barns."
"How long since you arrived here?"
"'Bout an hour and a half ago."
"How many are there here? Answer me truthfully, or, my word for it, I and my friends will hang you to one of yonder trees."
"Got many friends with yer, Major?"
"Enough. Now answer my question," and again Deck's weapon came up on a level with the guerilla's head.
"There air twenty-five on us, I reckon."
"Were you the only man left on guard?"
"I dunno."
"Who put you on guard?"
"Leftenant Denny."
"Isn't Captain Casswell in command?"
"No, the cap'n was shot down in a skirmish three days ago—back of Edmonton, and he's laying at the house of a friend ten miles from yere."
While talking the pair had moved across the road, and now Deck turned his prisoner in the direction of the clearing. Soon they came in sight of General, Clinker, and one other of the slaves.
"The first prisoner, General," said the young officer. "Have you anything with which to bind him?"
"Look yere, Major, this ain't handsome!" cried Sergeant Hank Scudder, in alarm.
"Handsome or not, you can thank your starsthat I didn't shoot you dead on the bridge," rejoined Deck. "How about a cord, General?"
"We dun got one, Mars'r Deck," answered the slave, and producing it he and Clinker soon bound the guerilla's hands behind him, after which the rope at his wrists was passed around a stout tree.
Deck's next movement was in the direction of the raft, for nothing was to be seen of Artie, and he was anxious to know how the young captain was faring. He had hardly reached the pile of logs to which the raft was moored, when a sharp cry rang out on the frosty air.
"Help! General, Woolly, Clinker! Help!" There followed another cry, and leaping through the brush and onto the logs Deck saw his cousin battling manfully in a hand-to-hand conflict with two rough men in gray, one of whom was trying to possess himself of the captain's sabre.
In such an emergency Major Deck did not hesitate as to a proper course of action. Had the men been regular Confederates he would have been justified in shooting at them; being guerillas he felt himself even more justified. He took careful aim and fired, and the rascal who had justwrenched the sabre from Artie's grasp fell, shot through the thigh, an ugly wound though not a fatal one.
Surprised at the counter-demonstration thus made, the second guerilla turned to see from what direction the shot had come. Giving him no chance in which to take in the situation, Deck fired a second time, the bullet whistling past the man in gray's shoulder. With a yell the fellow started to retreat from the logs, slipped on the wet and frost-covered surface beneath him, and rolled over and over until he went with a loud splash into the creek, not to reappear upon the surface of the icy current until fifty feet away.
"Artie, are you hurt?" demanded Deck, as he watched the man who had gone overboard.
"N—no, but th—that man nearly choked the life out of me," was the answer, with a cough. "Don't let him get away," and the young captain nodded toward the guerilla who was making for the plantation side of the creek.
"He shan't get away." Deck elevated his voice and his shooter at the same time. "Come back here, unless you want a hole put through your head!" he called out.
To this the guerilla did not reply. But he kept on swimming, and seeing this both Deck and Artie fired. A yell of pain was the answer to the shots, and the man turned around.
"Are you coming back?" demanded Deck.
"Yes! yes! don't shoot ag'in!" came with something like a groan.
The wounded man on the logs was writhing in pain, but nothing could be done for him just now, and Deck and Artie watched the man in the water. "I'm a goner!" came from the individual of a sudden, and throwing up both arms he disappeared from view.
For the instant Deck stared blankly and Artie looked at him. "Was that a genuine move, or is he shamming?" questioned the captain.
"I take it he is shamming," answered the major. "I don't believe he was badly wounded at all. Wait," and he continued to watch.
In half a minute the body of the guerilla appeared, a hundred feet below the logs. "Turn back here, or I'll put a bullet through your body for luck!" sang out Deck, and raised his pistol again.
"Don't! don't!" came the quick reply. "I'll come—don't hit me ag'in, Cap'n!"
In less than five minutes after this the guerilla was on the raft once more. Deck was on the point of marching him up into the grove by the creek road when Levi Bedford came up in the canoe, demanding to know what the several shots meant. He was highly pleased to think that three men had already been put out of the contest.
"I've discovered the guerillas moving around at the back of the mansion and around the largest of the barns," he said. "Now that you have used your pistols the best thing to do, in my opinion, is to get over to the fort and take possession of it."
"You are right," returned Deck. "Let us go over on the raft, as first proposed; but General can come around by the bridge and bring all of the horses, or keep them where they will be handy in case they are wanted. We ought not to give these guerillas the least chance to escape."
The General was called from his hiding-place and matters were explained. While he went off with the horses, Levi Bedford led the way to the raft and unmoored her, fastening the painter to the stern of the canoe, which, though so called,was, as old readers already know, really a round-bottom rowboat. The overseer, Deck, and Artie entered the canoe, the first two at the oars, while the slaves deposited themselves on the raft, doing what they could to aid their progress over the stream by means of several sweeps which had been picked up.
It may be asked why a rush was not made upon the mansion and barns, instead of the stealthy advance now under way. The answer to this is, Deck and the others knew that the force to be encountered was larger than their own, and probably just as well, if not better, armed. Moreover, the young major felt that some of the guerillas must be on the lookout from the mansion, and an advance across the lawn in front and to one side, or the meadow to the rear and the other side, could only have been accomplished after a serious loss of life. The guerillas of Kentucky were for the most part "dead-shots," and the youthful commander was not inclined to risk his men in the open against their superior numbers.
The creek at the point where the raft had been moored was between sixty and seventy feet wide, consequently the journey to the other side didnot occupy over five minutes, even though the raft was an unwieldy thing to handle. As soon as they were near enough to do so, all hands leaped into the meadow grass, and started on a rush for Fort Bedford.
Bang! bang! bang! The three shots in rapid succession came from the rear of the largest barn, and Deck felt something rush through his cap and his hair beneath. A groan came from Clinker, who was struck in the side. The negro staggered but kept on, his eyes rolling and staring from a pain that was new to him.
"'Tain't much, I reckon," he panted, in reply to Levi Bedford's question. "Anybuddy else hit?"
Nobody was, and without halting to return the fire they pressed on. Soon they were under the shelter of the ice-house, as dark and silent as the rest of the plantation had previously appeared.
"I left it locked up," explained Levi Bedford, when Artie gave a cry as he caught sight of the door. The heavy slabs of wood had been smashed in with a stout log used as a battering-ram, and a hasty search revealed the fact that the arms and ammunition, the overseer had mentioned, had been carried away.
As the party passed into the building several more shots were fired at them, but the bullets merely found resting-places in the woodwork or flattened themselves on the stone walls. Levi Bedford now saw one of the shooters near the edge of the barn and fired his rifle, but whether or not the shot took effect he could not ascertain.
"Well, we are here," said Artie, after Clinker's wound had been examined and dressed. "The question is, what's next?"
Deck silently counted their forces again. As General was absent, they numbered but eight including himself. He shook his head seriously.
"We are but eight, and if that captured rascal is to be believed they have three times that number," he said.
"But our other negroes must be around somewhere," said Artie, "and they'll need some men to guard the women folks,—unless they have locked them up,—or—or—"
"Or done away with them," finished Deck, bitterly. "For myself, I am ready to make a dash forward, be the consequence what it may. But I can't ask it of you and the slaves," and he turned to the overseer.
"I'll do whatever you think best, Major," responded Levi, warmly. "But supposing I go out with a flag of truce and learn what they have to say?"
"Hadn't I better go along?" asked Deck, eagerly.
"If you wish—yes."
A handkerchief was soon tied to a stick, and, leaving Artie in command of the armed slaves, the young major and the overseer sallied forth, waving the flag of truce over their heads. They started toward the mansion, but before half the distance was covered a loud and rough voice from the barn called upon them to halt, and they halted.
"Come this way with thet rag!" was the next order. "If ye go to the house we'll open fire on ye!"
As there seemed no help for it, Deck and Levi turned toward the barn. While still a hundred feet from the building they were ordered to halt again, and then a man in gray, wearing a tangled beard of black, with matted hair to match, came forth to greet them.
"Well?" he demanded laconically, as the major and the overseer paused.
"Dan Wolfall, what does this mean?" demanded Levi, recognizing the individual as a former citizen of Barcreek, and one who had left "between two days" because of a horse stealing which had been laid at his door.
Wolfall grinned, thereby showing a set of uneven yellow teeth, much the worse for constant tobacco chewing. "I reckon as how it means we-uns is in persession o' this yere plantation," he answered slowly, shifting his quid from one jaw to the other.
"Whom do you mean by we-uns?" asked Deck.
"Me an' the rest o' Captain Casswell's company o' Confederates, sonny. Say, you feel big in them sodger clothes, don't ye?" Wolfall asked, with another grin.
"Do you know that you are liable to be shot down or hung as outlaws?" went on Deck.
"Reckon we air jest as liable ter be shot down as Confed'rates, ain't we?"
"Such men as you would be a disgrace even to the Confederacy, Wolfall," interposed Levi Bedford, his honest eyes flashing fire. "Yearsago Duncan Lyon saved you from a long term in prison, and this is how you reward his brother and his nephews."
"Don't preach, Bedford, I ain't ust to hearin' on it. Times is changed, an' if the Lyonses is gwine to take a stand ag'in the best interests o' this State, why they hev got to take the consequences, thet's all."
"Kentucky has declared for the Union and we are on the right side," said Deck. "Let us come to an understanding of the situation. What have you done with my mother and my two sisters?"
"I reckon Leftenant Denny has 'em safe, sonny. Them's nice clothes, sonny, but a gray suit would look a heap sight better."
"Are they still at the mansion?"
"They air onless the leftenant has took 'em away."
"What do you propose to do here?"
"Enjoy ourselves, sonny."
"Which means that you are going to confiscate all our stores and steal our valuables."
"As you please, sonny. If yer come only to abuse such gents as we air, better be gittin'back, sonny," and now the Kentucky guerilla tapped his horse pistol significantly.
"How many are there of you?" went on Deck, hardly able to resist keeping his hands from the ruffian.
"Twict as many as half, sonny. Is that all ye want ter know?"
"I see you are not inclined to meet me fairly," continued Deck, sternly. "I order you to leave this place at once."
"Ain't obeyin' orders jest now, sonny."
"Very well; then you and your comrades in this raid must take the consequences if you are captured. Moreover, my men and I will shoot you down like dogs if we get the chance," and Deck turned back, followed by Levi.
"Thet shootin' won't be all one-sided!" called the guerilla after the pair, and disappeared into the barn.
When the major and the overseer returned to Fort Bedford, Artie wished to know immediately what had been accomplished.
"Nothing," answered Deck, his face clouded in perplexing thoughts. He was almost "stumped," although he did not care to admit it.
A shout was now heard along the creek, and looking from the fort those within saw five colored men standing at the clearing. They were the slaves that had followed the first detachment to Lyndhall. With the colored men were three whites, farmers living in the vicinity who had called at Lyndhall on business and who had been persuaded by Margie and Kate to join in the defence of Riverlawn.
"Eight more guns," said Artie. "That gives us sixteen all told. Hang me, if I'm not in for making a rush!"
Deck's face began to brighten. "Levi, how many men do you think are at the barn?"
"I saw four looking from behind the doors," answered the overseer. "Those with Wolfall made five. I don't believe there were any more."
"Then I'll tell you what I'll do," went on the young commander. "As secretly as I can, I'll recross the creek and join the men in the clearing. I'll bring them around to the meadow by the road, and along the berry bushes at the other side of the lawn. There will be nine of us, and as soon as we are in a position to attackthe barn, I'll fire two shots in quick succession. Then you must make a demonstration against the house. But be careful that it doesn't cost you any lives."
Both Levi and Artie were quick-witted enough to see the advantage of Deck's plan and readily agreed to it. Without the loss of a moment the major left the fort, crawling on his hands and knees through the grass to the creek.
Here the canoe and the raft were found as they had been left. Detaching the boat from the logs, he leaped in, and crouching low, sculled for the opposite shore with all speed. He was taking a big risk and knew it, and expected every instant to receive a shot from the enemy.
But none came, thanks to Levi, who, calculating the time he would be thus exposed, ran to the opening of the fort and called on several to do the same. As no good chance for an aim was given, the guerillas did not open with their guns, but they kept their eyes on the fort, and the creek was for the time being neglected.
On reaching the edge of the clearing, Deck did not lose a moment, but hurried the slavesand the white men back to the road and to the bushes lining the upper side. As they marched along on the double quick he explained the situation to Ralph Bowman, Sandran Dowleigh, and Carson Lee, the three farmers, all natives of the county, and all Union men to the core.
"They ought to be wiped out," said Bowman, with a vigorous nod of his head. "I know Wolfall and Denny well, and a rope over a tree is the medicine they need."
"I've got my Long Sam with me," put in Carson Lee, tapping his long rifle affectionately. "Just let me get one peep at Denny or Wolfall, thet's all." Lee was a crack shot, and on more than one occasion had taken the first prize at target-shooting.
It took the best part of a quarter of an hour to reach the meadow Deck had mentioned. Here there was a slight rise of ground, beyond which stood the barn. From their position only the top of the structure could be seen. Crawling Indian fashion to the top of the rise, the major inspected the situation again. As before, not a soul was in sight.
Before moving forward he had stationed oneof the slaves some distance closer to the mansion. The man was armed with a double-barrelled gun, and as Deck waved his handkerchief two reports rang out, the signal agreed upon. Hardly had the echo of the gun died away than Levi, Artie, and the others emerged from the fort, and began moving around the meadow toward the front of the house.
The demonstration did just what was expected. Several men appeared at the mansion windows, to fire in vain at the detachment from the fort, they keeping pretty well out of range. From the barn poured the five guerillas counted by Levi, anxious to learn if their services were needed elsewhere.
By this time Deck's command was at the top of the rise, and the major called on his men to take careful aim and fire, discharging his pistol at the same moment. Carson Lee picked out Wolfall and the ruffian dropped like a log, shot through the head. Two of the others went down, one hit in the arm and the other in the side. The two remaining stopped in perplexity, not knowing whether to return to their original shelter or run for the mansion.
"Charge!" cried Major Deck, rushing for the barn with all the swiftness of his youthful legs. "Come on, boys; don't let one of them get away!" And he continued to fire as he advanced, finally succeeding in hitting one of the remaining pair of guerillas in the calf of the leg, a painful though not a serious wound. Seeing the turn of affairs, the last ruffian, also wounded, sped for the mansion as though a legion of demons were after him. Those who had reloaded gave the fellow half a dozen shots, but he was not hit again, and tumbled pell-mell up the veranda steps and through a doorway opened hastily to afford him entrance.
"A first victory and without a single loss," said Deck, as sheltered by the big barn he began to reload his pistol, while the others also looked after their weapons.
"Don't kill us!" came in a groan from one of the wounded—the man the major had hit.
For reply Deck pointed his pistol at the ruffian's head. "You deserve to die, but I'll let up on you on one condition—tell me exactly how many men there are in the mansion."
"I don't know, Major. There were twenty-twoof us at the start, including the five we had here. I think three men were posted on the road and along the creek."
"One man has returned to the house; the others are out of the fight," said Deck, turning to Lee. "That leaves exactly fifteen guerillas in the mansion. We number sixteen."
"That's so; but they are well fortified," interposed Sandran Dowleigh, who had not gone to war because he was subject to fits, but who, nevertheless, took a lively interest in military matters. "They will mow us down like wheat if we dare to make a rush."
"I will consult with Levi Bedford and Artie before we make another move. Keep your eyes open while I am gone," said the major, and moved off in a roundabout way for Fort Bedford.
The first battle, if such it might be called, had been fought and won. Four of the guerillas had been put out of the contest, one forever, and one had escaped to the mansion. The contest had been entirely one-sided, for the ruffians had not had time left to them in which to fire so much as a single charge.
But though the present victory had been gained quickly and with ease, Deck knew that the work still cut out for himself and his command would prove much more difficult and dangerous. The guerillas in the mansion would be on a close watch, and it would go hard with any one imprudent enough to advance within reasonable shooting distance.
By the time the major had gained the fort those intrusted with the work of making a demonstration had returned to the shelter of the stone walls. No injury had been done, and Artie and the overseerhad had their hands full in keeping the slaves from rushing directly for the mansion regardless of consequences, especially when it was noted that four men had gone down in the vicinity of the barn.
"Fifteen still left," mused Levi, when Deck had spoken. "We can go them one better, but—"
"It makes a big difference where the fifteen men are located," said Artie. "Five might hold the mansion against us—if they were good shots and wide-awake."
"If only I knew mother and the girls were safe, I would play them a waiting game," said Deck, taking a long breath. "They'll think we have sent for reënforcements and will want to make terms, sooner or later."
"We can send off for reënforcements!" cried Artie. "Clinker can rouse out every Unionist within two miles of here."
"He would not find many," answered Levi. "The majority are off to the war."
"One thing, it will be dark soon," went on Deck. "We can move up pretty close then, for there won't be much moonlight."
"But what of mother and the girls in the meantime?" questioned the young captain.
"I don't believe they will dare harm them," said the overseer. "They know that if they did, and were caught, every one of 'em would swing for it. Denny may try to get a bit sweet on Miss Dorcas, but I reckon she can hold her own. Those guerillas—"
"Hark!" interrupted Deck. "Somebody is screaming for help! It is Dorcas!"
He rushed to the door of the fort, followed by Levi and Artie. It was Dorcas, true enough. The girl had just come out on the mansion porch and was trying to get away from a guerilla who held her.
"That is Gaffy Denny!" ejaculated the major, drawing his pistol once more. "Hi, you rascal, leave her alone!" and regardless of consequences he started across the meadow for the lawn fronting the porch.
"Deck, save me!" came in faint tones from Dorcas. "Oh, save me!"
"I will!" was the reply. And Deck increased his speed, bounding over the meadow trenches with an agility that would have done credit to atrained athlete. He had barely gained the lawn when Dorcas broke from Gaffy Denny's grasp and fled down the porch steps toward him. At the same time Hope appeared, followed by Mrs. Lyon and several guerillas who had been in the act of transferring the lady prisoners from one room of the mansion to the other.
The sight of his mother pursued by these ruffians excited Deck to the highest degree, and without a thought of the danger he continued on his course until within a hundred feet of the porch. Then he fired at Gaffy Denny and saw the guerilla clap his left hand over his right shoulder, showing that he had been struck. Denny had scarcely made the movement when Levi Bedford fired and the temporary leader of the guerillas pitched headlong on the grass, not to rise again.
The fall of Denny caused the men behind him to pause, and as they stood on the porch Artie opened on them and another fellow was slightly wounded. Then came half a dozen gun and pistol reports, and Deck felt himself hit across the left side of the neck. The bullet left nothing more than an ugly scratch, from which the blood flowed freely.
But now the prisoners from the mansion had come up to their would-be rescuers, and catching sight of the blood, Hope fainted in Artie's arms. Mrs. Lyon staggered toward Deck, while Levi caught Dorcas by the hand.
"My son, you are wounded," gasped the mother. "Oh, what shall we do?"
"It's not much, mother," answered Deck. "Come, give me your arm and we'll get back to the fort," and catching hold of his parent he urged her in the direction of the meadow. At the same time Artie caught up Hope and followed, with Levi and Dorcas by his side.
The overseer was the only man of the party who was not handicapped, for the major did not dare let go of his mother for fear she would sink down. Levi turned quickly, and as the men on the porch prepared to fire, pulled trigger twice, wounding one additional guerilla.
But now came a volley from the mansion windows, and the overseer was struck in the arm. A second volley was about to follow, when a yell arose from the meadow and the slaves under Clinker came on, shooting as well as they could on the run. The windows of the mansion, nowwide open, received considerable attention, and two guerillas were noted to fall back with yells of either fright or pain.
Deck got one more chance to fire, and then had to turn all of his attention to his mother, who was so out of breath she could no longer move. "My brave boy, save yourself!" she gasped. "Save yourself! And save Hope and Dorcas!"
"I won't leave you, mother dear," he returned tenderly, and picked her up despite her protests. He was soon following Artie to the fort, with Dorcas running by his side, while Levi remained behind to take command of the slaves and cover the retreat. From around the back of the meadow came those left by the major at the barn, thinking a regular attack on the mansion had been made.
Mrs. Noah Lyon was no light load, and when Deck gained the shelter of the fort he was ready to drop with his burden. Finding the most comfortable seat the place afforded, he deposited his precious load upon it and fanned her with his soldier cap. Hope was just reviving and was soon able to take care of herself.
"Oh, how thankful I am we have escaped from those ruffians!" cried Dorcas, almost ready to cry in her excitement. Then she knelt down in front of her aunt—that aunt who had for years been a mother to her. Hope joined the group, and tears flowed down every feminine cheek.
"Keep watch here, Artie!" called out Deck, when he saw that all was well for the time being, and as the young captain nodded, the major leaped out into the open once more. The battle between those in the mansion and those on the edge of the lawn was waxing hot, and he felt that he was needed.
A great load was lifted from his mind, now he knew his mother and the girls were safe, and he felt that he could endure almost anything. Taking a short cut by leaping over a ditch some ten feet wide, he came up in front of Carson Lee and the others from the barn. Lee had already been firing, at long range, and the man subject to fits declared he had dropped one guerilla stationed at an attic window.
"It is best that we divide our forces," said Deck. "Levi can take care of those under him. We will take the opposite side of the house.There are two magnolias over there—just the spot for such a sharpshooter as you, Lee."
"Co-rect, lead on and I'll follow," answered Carson Lee, with a grin, for nothing pleased him more than to have his marksmanship praised. Soon the entire party was making another detour, while Levi's men fell back gradually to a safe position in a dry trench near the centre of the meadow—a trench begun in the spring but never connected with the creek.
When the major's party reached the magnolias, Lee and another of the farmers climbed into the branches, taking care, however, to keep the main trunks of the trees between themselves and the mansion. The others collected underneath, also, on the sheltered sides.
"Levi and the niggers have fallen back to a ditch in the meadow," announced Lee, a minute later. "All the guerillas have gone into the house."
"An' there ain't a head to be seen at the winders," finished Dowleigh, the other man in the tree. "Reckon they have gone in fer a parley among themselves."
"We have them where the hair is good andlong now," said Deck, smiling. "Not one of them can leave the house without being seen."
"How about to-night, Major?" laughed Bowman.
"As soon as it gets dark we can draw closer, and throw a guard completely around the place. But I imagine we'll hear from them before that—now the ladies have escaped."
"How so?" asked Bowman, with interest.
"As long as they held the ladies they thought they could make terms when they pleased. Now, the case is different, and, in my opinion, they will try to make terms before we have a chance to send for aid with which to wipe them out, as the saying goes."
"Don't ye make no terms," burst in Carson Lee. "They don't deserve 'em."
"We'll see what they have to say, if they do come out," concluded the major.
The best part of half an hour passed, and during that time everybody placed his weapon in proper fighting trim again. Lee took one shot at a face which appeared at a bedroom window and received a shot in return, but neither took effect. Evidently the guerillas were on the alert.
"I told you so!" Deck felt like saying, when the side door of the mansion opened and a man waved a white towel toward them. But the major remained silent, and the man advanced cautiously to the edge of the veranda. Then the young commander waved his handkerchief in return, and marched up the lawn to interview the ruffian with the flag of truce.
The fellow was an ugly looking customer, over six feet tall, thin, and with a face horribly pox-marked. He came swaggering up to within five yards of Deck and halted.
"Say, don't yer think this game has been played long enough?" he grunted rather than asked.
"Entirely too long," answered Deck, briefly. He had not yet forgotten the manner in which he had been addressed at the barn.
"We-uns is ready ter make terms if yer don't ask the earth," continued the tall guerilla, swinging his lanky arms into a fold. "Wot do yer say to it?"
"I think you had better make terms."
"Oh, we ain't so terribully skeered, Major. But makin' terms might suit better all around, thet's all."
"Well, what do you propose?"
"This. You-uns let us withdraw on our hosses to the road an' give us half a mile start, an' we-uns will leave everything in the house jest as we found it."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then we'll burn the hull shebang to the ground and take wot comes arfterward," exclaimed the guerilla, vehemently, and added an expression I would not care to transcribe to these pages.
"Do you know what will come?"
"A fight most likely," and the guerilla shrugged his bony shoulders.
"Yes, and a heavy one, if our reënforcements arrive in time. And as commander here I'll promise you that if you harm the house or its contents in the least, every man captured shall be hung to yonder trees as an incendiary and thief."
"Ye can't do thet—not to Confed'rit sodgers, Major."
"I don't recognize you as Confederates. You are simply outlaws."
"'Tain't so; we—" The guerilla paused andbegan to think of the instructions which had been given him. "Wot kind o' terms air you calkerlatin' ter make, Major?" he asked, in a milder tone.
"I want all in the house to surrender, and if you do I'll simply hand you over to the county authorities and they can do with you as they think best. But each of you must swear to leave Riverlawn alone in the future."
"The boys won't agree on thet—I know they won't."
"They can do as they please; you have my terms," returned Deck, curtly.
"Yer won't treat us as simple prisoners o' war?"
"No; for such you are not. Neither your captain nor your lieutenant holds a commission signed by the Confederate authorities."
The guerilla paused as if to say more. Then tossing his shaggy head he walked back to the mansion, while Deck joined his command at the magnolias.
"Bowman, you can do a big thing for me if you will," he said, calling the farmer aside, and he explained a little ruse which had just poppedinto his head. The scheme made Bowman laugh heartily, and he at once departed to carry it out, taking one of the negroes with him.
It was just growing dusk when the farmer reached the vicinity of the creek bridge. Calling on Woolly, the negro, to march by his side, he quickly crossed the roadway, in plain sight of the mansion. He passed from one thicket to another, and as soon as he was out of sight turned back and went through the same performance again. This he repeated a score of times, sometimes going alone and again with Woolly. This accomplished, he told the negro to move down the creek and show himself at half a dozen different places just as quickly as the act could be performed, he at the same time doing as much in the opposite direction. Sometimes the pair showed themselves with their coats, sometimes without, and they knocked their head coverings into all sorts of shapes.
The ruse succeeded admirably, for even Levi, at the fort, was led to believe a dozen or more armed men had just arrived, and he was for a while considerably worried, thinking they might possibly be reënforcements for the enemy. Bowman'sappearance opposite Fort Bedford cleared up the matter, and the farmer came over to give the overseer the particulars, thereby risking a shot which, fortunately, proved harmless.
"It certainly ought to bring them to terms," said Levi. "I'll wager they will be out with another flag in less than a quarter of an hour."
Had a bet been made the overseer would have won by five minutes, for exactly ten minutes later another flag of truce was shown, and a second messenger sallied forth to make terms with Major Deck.
Major Dexter Lyon was on the lookout and saw the second flag of truce as quickly as any one. At the same time Carson Lee, still in the top of the magnolia, announced that "another rag" was "out for an airin'."
"You want ter go slow," he added. "They may be gittin' desperate an' up to some o' their mean tricks."
Promising to use all caution, Deck advanced to meet the new messenger. He proved to be a mild sort of a guerilla and was evidently extremely nervous.
"I came out to arrange terms with you," he said, in such a low voice that Deck could hardly hear him.
"Are you ready to surrender?"
"We are—on certain terms."
"I gave your other messenger my terms. I haven't any others to make."
"The boys is divided as to wot to do. About half of 'em is willing to give themselves up unconditionally, the other half want to be treated as prisoners of war."
"I will not treat any as prisoners of war—I said that before," answered Deck, firmly. "Are you willing to give yourself up unconditionally?"
"Yes."
"Then you had best do so without delay—and so had the others who think as you do. We will give you just ten minutes in which to make up your minds," went on Deck, feeling he had the enemy, "on the run," and determined to make the best of his chances.
"So them reënforcements have arrived, eh?" said the messenger, and now his voice actually trembled. "Just hold on ten minutes, Major, and I'll be back," and he almost ran for the house.
The man left the front door wide open, and Lee, from his superior position, announced that a lively confab was in progress within. In less than five minutes the messenger marched forth, followed by five of his comrades, all trailing their guns.
"Five on 'em goin' to give up," announced Lee, when a shot was fired from the mansion, and one of the guerillas was seen to throw up his arms and fall headlong. He had been shot through the neck, and expired almost instantly. The others set out on a run for the magnolias, fearful that their former companions in arms would murder them likewise for deserting. A dozen reports from both sides followed, but no further damage was done.
As soon as the four guerillas reached Deck's command they were disarmed, and a guard of two slaves conducted them to a distance, keeping a close watch upon them. Another negro was sent by a circuitous route to the fort, to tell the defenders there what had occurred.
Deck now felt certain that those remaining in the mansion would soon make a dash for safety, satisfied that every moment's delay increased their peril, and preferring to run the risk of being shot than the certainty of being hung if captured. At the most there could not be over eight guerillas in a condition to fight, and the major felt assured his forces could readily take care of them.
The dash came just after Deck's message had been delivered to Levi and Artie. Almost simultaneously all the lower doors of the mansion were thrown open and seven guerillas darted out, to scatter in as many different directions, three going off toward the meadow behind the barns, one in the neighborhood of the negroes' huts, and the others taking to the creek and the bridge over it. In less than two minutes each ruffian was at least a hundred yards from the nearest of his companions.
In this emergency there was but one thing to do, and that was to divide up the detachments at the magnolias and at the fort. This was done by Deck on one side and Artie on the other, and away went the major and Faraway, the slave, after the guerilla who was making for the bridge, while every other ruffian was being pursued in a similar fashion by the remaining Unionists.
It had grown darker rapidly, and it was with difficulty that the major kept his man in sight, especially after the bushes near the bridge were reached. There was also a danger of a shot, but none came just then.
"He's gone!" suddenly burst out Faraway, when the bridge was less than a hundred feet away. "De earth hab swallowed him up!"
"He went under the bridge," answered Deck, halting. "Go slow, for he'll shoot us if he can."
After this the advance was made with great caution, until the young commander had gained the pile of stones upon which rested one end of the wooden structure. Here the great tree growing by the bridge bench cast a deep shade all around, and he had to strain his eyes to see at all.
Crack! It was the report of a pistol and it came from less than fifty feet away. As the report died away Deck was seen to throw up his arms and drop. At once an exultant chuckle proceeded from the guerilla's lips, and heedless of the negro, he darted out of his hiding-place and ran for the creek road.
"Oh, Mars'r Deck!" cried Faraway, in dismay, when he started back dumfounded, for the young major had suddenly arisen to a kneeling position, taken careful aim and fired. The bullet sped true to its mark, and the guerilla went down, shot through the right knee.
"Hang yer cursed Yankee trick!" he groaned, as Deck came up to him, totally uninjured from the shot aimed at him a minute previously. Lying as he was, he attempted to fire again, but the major kicked the pistol from his grasp and Faraway pounced upon him and pinned him to the ground.
"Any kind of a trick would be justifiable in capturing such a rascal as you," said Deck, as he directed Faraway to disarm the prisoner. This done, and making sure that the fellow could not walk away, they propped him up on the creek bridge and left him.
Returning to the vicinity of the mansion, Deck found that one other guerilla had been captured by Artie and Clinker, and that white men and negroes were scattered in all directions endeavoring to round up the remainder. The search for the fleeing ones was kept up until midnight, and two others were wounded and taken into custody.
All the prisoners were either marched or carried to Fort Bedford, and here the wounded ones were cared for as tenderly as though they were friends instead of enemies. The deadwere laid out for burial, unless the bodies should be claimed by relatives or friends.
Deck had bound a silk handkerchief around his neck, which felt stiff where the bullet had scratched it. Artie had been hurt, too, but the wound was of small consequence. The Unionists received even greater care than the guerillas.
It was exactly two o'clock in the morning when Deck came into the mansion thoroughly worn out by what he had passed through. Mrs. Lyon had ordered Diana (not Dinah, if you please) to prepare the best meal Riverlawn could afford, and while the family and the other whites sat down in the dining room, the negroes made themselves comfortable in the spacious kitchen. In the meantime the prisoners at the fort were kept under close guard and a messenger was despatched to notify the county authorities of what had taken place.
The mansion had been turned topsy-turvy, and a few articles of bric-à-brac had been smashed, but otherwise the loss did not seem to be of much consequence outside of the fact that two dozen silver spoons and a gold butter dish were missing, also some wine and whiskeyput down in the cellar by Duncan Lyon and which the family of Noah had never touched.
"I do not mind the liquor, but I do mind the loss of my mother's spoons," said Mrs. Noah. "However, I am glad matters are no worse."
"I was afraid they would break open father's safe," said Deck, referring to the strong box in the library, in which the colonel was wont to keep his cash and his private papers. "I was much relieved to see it still locked up."
While Deck had been speaking Levi came in, and now he turned to Mrs. Lyon. "That safe—I left it open for you," he cried hurriedly. "Did you—"
"I left it open," gasped Mrs. Lyon, falling back in her chair. "I forgot all about it until just now—the guerillas scared me so when they marched in. If they—"
"The safe is shut—but still—" began Deck, and arising hastily he hurried to the library, with Levi, Artie, and the women folks at his heels. The door refused to budge and Levi worked the combination, a new device Noah Lyon had had put on the door just before leaving home for the seat of war.
When the strong box came open a mass of private papers and account-books fell out upon the carpeted floor, and it was easy to surmise that the guerillas had looted the safe of all that could be made valuable to them. Levi declared three hundred dollars in gold gone, also two hundred in United States paper money, besides a small box of jewellery, the most valuable articles in which had been a diamond ring and a diamond stud Duncan Lyon had worn during his life, and of which no disposition had ever been made.
"We are five hundred dollars out by this raid," said Artie, while Mrs. Lyon shook her head sadly. "We had better question the prisoners about this."
He went off to do so, accompanied by Levi. While they were gone Deck proceeded to arrange the scattered books and papers and restore them to their original resting places.
"Hullo!" he ejaculated, as he picked up an empty envelope. It was marked! "Not to be opened till five years from the date of my death. Duncan Lyon."
"The secret envelope uncle left to father!"cried out Hope. "Oh, Deck, where are the contents?"
"That is what I should like to know," responded her brother, kneeling down with a hand lamp, the better to see. A large batch of papers were sorted with great care, but nothing which might have belonged in the envelope was unearthed.
"This is worse than the loss of the money or the spoons," sobbed Mrs. Lyon, bursting into tears. "Your father has always been very careful of that secret communication, which he thought related to your Uncle Duncan's slaves. I am sure he will be much put out when he finds the contents of the envelope gone."
Mrs. Lyon's tears set the girls to crying, and it took some time for Deck to quiet the three. In the meanwhile he had all the female colored help in the mansion search for the missing paper. These people brought him a dozen or more sheets from out-of-the-way corners, but all proved valueless, and at length Deck strode down to the fort.
The prisoners had been searched, but nothing had been found on them of value. Eachman was closely questioned, and the timid guerilla who had carried the second flag of truce that afternoon admitted that he had seen a certain fellow known as Totterly at the safe and had seen the guerilla tear open an envelope, look over its contents and then cram a paper in his coat pocket. Totterly had also taken a chamois bag—the bag which contained the three hundred dollars in gold. Who had taken the paper money was not known to the timid prisoner, nor did he know anything about the spoons.
"I didn't want to jine them sodgers," he whined. "Gaffy Denny talked me into it. Wish I had a-stayed on my dad's plantation in Logan County."
"Yes, you would have been much better off," answered Deck, briefly.
The discovery of the loss sustained put a damper on the supper, and several of Diana's best dishes were hardly touched. But nothing could just then be done, and after Mrs. Lyon and the girls had told how they had been surprised by Gaffy Denny and his men and locked up in the storeroom off of the dining apartment,each of the party retired to catch a few hours of sleep. It is safe to say the lady of the mansion and the girls hardly closed their eyes, but Deck and Artie were growing used to excitement and had slumbered in the very midst of a battlefield, and they rested soundly.
On the day following, several of the county authorities put into appearance, and the prisoners were taken away to Bowling Green, some to the prison, and the wounded ones to a hospital. A vigorous search was instituted for Totterly, but nothing was learned about him further than that he had confiscated a horse at a little settlement known as Culver's, and had been seen riding with all speed directly south for the Tennessee State line.
Deck and Artie accompanied the prisoners to the county seat, and on returning to Riverlawn in the afternoon an hour's call was made at Lyndhall—a space of time all too short for the major, for Kate Belthorpe wished to know all about the affair at the mansion, and he was impatient to ask her about herself. Artie, knowing a thing or two or imagining he did, very considerately drew Margie Belthorpe to listen to what he mighthave to relate, so the affectionate pair were left alone part of the time, something which Deck very much appreciated, and to which pretty Kate did not at all object. The girl shuddered when he was forced to admit that he had been scratched on the neck by a bullet, and flinging her arms about his shoulders begged him to be more prudent in the future, and this he promised—for her sake, as he said in a whisper, and the compact was sealed with a kiss which if not exactly brotherly or sisterly was fully as affectionate.
"I suppose you proposed, didn't you?" said Artie, when he and Deck were galloping home. "I gave you the best chance in the world."
"I—I—don't be foolish, Artie," returned the young major, and blushed. "No," he went on, after a pause, "I didn't—but—I reckon it's all right—at least I hope it is;" and Artie clapped him on the back heartily and said he was positive it was all right, and they shook hands. After that the cousins were more brotherly than ever before.
"Deck, what is that glittering over there?" cried Artie, as they were crossing the creek bridge. "I declare, it's one of mother's spoons!"
"You're right, Artie," answered the major, leaping to the ground. "And here is another. That rascal I wounded must have thrown them away after I left him on the bridge bench."
Artie dismounted also, and the pair began a rigorous search for the balance of the missing silverware. Four additional spoons were brought to light, all having lain within a distance of two yards of each other.
"That's all," said Artie, after looking around for quarter of an hour without finding any more. "More than likely several of the guerillas divided the tableware between them."
Mrs. Lyon was much pleased over the recovery of even a part of the stolen property, and a huntwas immediately instituted at the various spots where the prisoners had been shot down or captured. Before night a dozen and a half spoons were in, also the gold butter dish. The other spoons were never found, although long after it was learned that the thief had thrown them into the creek.
Immediately after learning what was to be ascertained concerning Totterly, Levi had gone off with General and Clinker to run the men down, were such a thing possible. The overseer was gone two days and a night, and came back looking worn and haggard.
"I couldn't catch him, try my best," he said. "He has escaped into Tennessee, and I doubt very much if any of us ever lay eyes on him again."
From one of the prisoners they had received a very good description of the guerilla, who was said to be tall, with a marked stoop to his left shoulder, and with a long nose which did not point directly ahead, but somewhat to the right. He was said to be a well-educated man, inclined to drink, and was put down as using "school English."
"We shall never see or hear of him again," sighed Mrs. Lyon. "The money and that precious paper are gone forever."
"I don't see why he took the paper," said Artie. "I don't believe it is of any value excepting to father."
"We ought to write to father at once," said Hope, who, though younger than any present, took a deep interest in what had occurred. "If the paper concerned the slaves, what will he do if it is not found?"
"That's the conundrum, Hope," answered her big brother. "I'll write to-night, and father will get the letter inside of forty-eight hours, I think."
The major and the captain had expected to have a right royal time at home while on their furlough; but the attack on Riverlawn had upset all of their calculations. Nevertheless, they were warmly welcomed by those at the plantation, and Kate Belthorpe made Deck especially happy by coming over with her sister to spend a whole day at the mansion.
The furlough of the major and the captain was for ten days, and before the time was up aletter came from Colonel Lyon, stating that he had received the news of the attack on Riverlawn even before Deck's communication was handed to him. The loss of the private document intrusted to him by his dead brother worried him greatly, but he presumed everything possible was being done to recover it, so he would not risk leaving his command to take a hand personally.
"General Rosecrans is almost certain the enemy is up to some movement," he added. "I was talking to Colonel Minty only yesterday, and he thinks we shall have work cut out for us inside of a week. Unless you can accomplish something at home, you and Artie had better return to your positions at the front."
The note had evidently been written in a hurry, for no mention was made of the lost money, the colonel evidently valuing that at less than the stolen paper. The communication produced a profound impression on Deck and Artie, and after talking it over, both decided to leave for their regiment on the following morning. Levi urged them to do this, and promised to guard more carefully than everagainst any possible future attack at Riverlawn.
Early in the year 1863 several changes were made in the Army of the Cumberland, and one of these was to transfer Fort Henry and Fort Donelson from Grant to Rosecrans, giving the latter the entire control of the Cumberland River. In the meantime, and during the several months to follow, the cavalry of the Union forces was recruited as much as possible, and many companies of infantry were placed on horseback, for Rosecrans had discovered that little or nothing could be done against the enemy's raiders by foot soldiers, no matter how daring or long-winded on the double-quick the latter might be.
Toward the end of January, General Bragg, somewhat recovered from the shock of the conflict at Murfreesboro, thought it about time to make another demonstration against the army of the North, and he accordingly directed General Wheeler to make an attack against Fort Donelson, so gallantly taken by the forces under Grant nearly a year previous. Wheeler directed Forrest to move his brigade with a batteryof four guns along the river road to the neighborhood of Dover, while he with Wharton's command took a road to the left.
Several trusted scouts reported this movement to Rosecrans without delay, and the general immediately ordered Davis to take his division and two brigades of cavalry under Colonel Minty down the Versailles road and endeavor to take Wheeler in the rear, while Steedman was directed to watch the Confederate general's movements by way of Triune.
As the work of the Riverlawn Cavalry was well known, Colonel Lyon was pressed into the services of the cavalry moving toward Fort Donelson without, however, Captain Batterson's battery being attached, as heretofore. The brigades of cavalry were directed to move by way of the Unionville and Rover roads, the infantry going direct to Eaglesville.
The major and the captain arrived in camp just as the men were striking their tents. They were warmly received by Major Belthorpe, who wanted to know the news from home, and by Captain Gadbury, who was likewise anxious to hear from Lyndhall and especially from Margie.Both young men, however, lost no time in reporting to their father.
"It's a bad business, Dexter," said the colonel, when the loss of the secret letter was alluded to. "I must say I am treed, as the bear said to Davy Crockett."
"Don't you think the letter referred to the slaves, father?" said the major. "I always thought it did."
"I did think so, because I was particularly cautioned by Brother Duncan not to dispose of any of the slaves under any circumstances. They originally numbered fifty-one, but three have died, leaving forty-eight, as perhaps you know."
"Perhaps they were to be given their freedom," said Artie. "If that is so, President Lincoln's proclamation has forestalled Uncle Duncan's design."
At this the colonel smiled. "Almost true, Artie, but not quite," he said slowly. "If we lived in a rebellious State the proclamation would act as you say, but Kentucky, being still in the Union, is not affected by that proclamation, strange as the statement may seem."
"Creation! but I reckon you're right, father!" almost shouted Major Deck. "I never looked at it in that light before. We can hold slaves even if the folks living below the Mason and Dixon's line can't."
Colonel Lyon turned his eyes fully on the young commander, and studied that resolute face for several seconds in silence. From his parent's manner Deck knew something important was coming.
"My son, would you care to hold our colored people as slaves if all the other colored people in these United States were set at liberty? I say these United States, for I pray God that this conflict will speedily come to an end and that we shall remain an undivided Union."
"No; I say let them be free! Let us hire them to work for us," answered the major, promptly.
"Yes; give them their liberty," echoed Artie. "I never believed in slavery when we lived in New Hampshire, and I haven't got used to it yet. It isn't a Christian-like institution."
"My boys, I am glad you speak my thoughts," said Colonel Lyon, and grasped each by thehand. "Yes, the slaves shall be free; I settled that in my mind as soon as I read our President's proclamation. I have already begun a letter of instructions to Levi Bedford on the subject."
At this juncture Colonel Lyon was called away to confer with the officer in command of the division to which the Riverlawns had been assigned, and Deck and Artie hurried to their respective headquarters, the one to assume command of his company and the other his battalion.
"Major, you are looking as fine as fine can be!" exclaimed Captain Life Knox, of the seventh company, as he came up, saluted Deck, and then gave a hearty shake to the proffered hand. "Your furlough has evidently agreed with you."
"It would have agreed with me if it hadn't been for the trouble we had at Riverlawn."
"I heard something of that, but I'd like to listen to the particulars," continued Life.
They were readily given. When the tall Kentuckian heard Totterly's name mentioned his face grew dark.
"I know the skunk!" he cried. "He hailsfrom the western part of the State and once cheated me in a hoss trade. So he is the man? Very well, we'll keep our eyes open for him."
Major Truman was also at hand, an eager listener to what was said. The former squire of Barcreek shook his head dubiously. "I was hoping our neighborhood would miss being raided after that last trouble," he said. "But, being on the border of this conflict, I dare say we shall suffer in this fashion as long as the war lasts."
In less than two hours after this the Riverlawn Cavalry was on the march, Deck at the head of the first battalion, with Artie as commander of his fourth company, and Colonel Lyon in charge of the whole. Major Batterson of the battery was sorry to be left behind, but wished "the boys" the best of luck.
"Don't let the enemy take Fort Donelson," he said. "Grant had too much of a job taking it from Buckner."
The cavalry forces under Minty had been divided, one taking the road through Unionville and the other that through Rover. The weather was cold and threatened a storm, yet the Riverlawnsmade good progress over the semi-frozen and rough highway.
The most worried man in the column was Quartermaster Hickman. For several weeks the troops had been living on half rations, for the government could get no supplies through, owing to the wrecking of the railroad. The country for miles around had been so thoroughly foraged that absolutely nothing was left that was worth picking up.
"It's easy enough to talk about providing something," grumbled the quartermaster, while riding at ease beside Deck. "I'd turn the shirt on my back into a peck of potatoes if I could, but the thing can't be done—and there you are. I've lived on nothing but hardtack and a couple of potatoes for two days,—and your father has done the same,—and yet some of the boys kick."
"It's hard lines, truly," answered Deck, soberly. "But we shall have to make the best of it, and that is all there is to it. When we halt for dinner, I'll make my battalion a little speech on the subject."
"I wish you would, for the third company is the hardest kicker of the lot," grumbled Hickman,and rode off, trying to solve in his mind how he was going to make six boxes of hardtack, two barrels of potatoes, and one box of beans last nearly a thousand men two days or more. "I'll just have to swell out them beans, that's all," he said. "And all hands will have to play Yankees and eat 'em," he added, remembering that some of the Kentuckians had turned up their noses at this particularly New England dish.
When the halt came Major Deck made his promised speech. "Our quartermaster is doing his best," he said, "and officers are faring no better than the men. If we are badly off, the enemy is worse, so let us leave the growling to them. I feel certain our government will not forget us, and that supplies will soon be coming through in abundance."
For a moment there was a silence. "We didn't mean anything, Major," came from a private of the second company. "The quartermaster is all right. Three cheers for him!" The cheers were given with a will; and then Hickman felt much better.
Life Knox and several others had gone off on a scout for "extras." They had brought down tworabbits when they ran across a house set in a grove of untrimmed trees. The front door was open on a crack, and at the crack an elderly man was stationed with a shot-gun.
"Keep off! keep off!" cried the man as he stepped onto the porch. "I don't want any soldiers around here."
"So it would seem," answered the tall Kentuckian, dryly. "Who are you?"
"Eh?" queried the man, who was a bit deaf.
"Stand still and tell us who you are."
"That's my business. You clear out!"
"Rather guess it's our business just now," laughed another of the cavalrymen.
"A man's house is his castle, and I want you to leave me," stormed the man with the shot-gun. "You are nothing but Yankees!"
"That is true," returned Life. "What have you in your house?"
"Eh?"
"Most awfully deaf, he is," grunted another of the party. "Have you got many provisions on hand?" he added, in a louder key.
"Eh?" and the man with the shot-gun leaned forward. "Did you say provisions?"
"Yes; have you any?" joined in Life.
"Enough for myself. Ain't got none for you—I can tell you that!"
"Reckon you have got something for us," grinned the tall Kentuckian.
Another of the party, Sandy Lyon, had, in the meantime, slipped behind the house. He now appeared at the edge of the porch and suddenly leaped upon the elderly man.
Utterly off his guard, for he had not heard Sandy approaching, the deaf man proved an easy victim, and in a twinkle his gun was taken from him.
"That was a good move, Sandy," said Life. "Now sit down and behave yourself, sir," he added, to the man, whose name was Gessel, and forced the deaf one to a seat on the porch.