NormalizeHEADmain

1 files changed, 0 insertions, 5090 deletions

diff --git a/old/50701.txt b/old/50701.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index daecf50..0000000
--- a/old/50701.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,5090 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of On the Plantation, by Joel Chandler Harris
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: On the Plantation
-       A Story of a Georgia Boy's Adventures during the War
-
-Author: Joel Chandler Harris
-
-Illustrator: E. W. Kemble
-
-Release Date: December 15, 2015 [EBook #50701]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON THE PLANTATION ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by Google Books
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-ON THE PLANTATION
-
-A Story Of A Georgia Boy's Adventures During The War
-
-By Joel Chandler Harris
-
-Author Of Uncle Remus
-
-With Twenty-Three Illustrations By E. W. Kemble
-
-New York
-
-D. Appleton And Company
-
-1892
-
-
-JOSEPH ADDISON TURNER
-
-LAWYER, EDITOR, SCHOLAR, PLANTER,
-
-AND PHILANTHROPIST THIS MIXTURE
-
-OF FACT AND FICTION IS INSCRIBED
-
-
-
-
-INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
-
-
-Some of my friends who have read in serial form the chronicles that
-follow profess to find in them something more than an autobiographical
-touch. Be it so. It would indeed be difficult to invest the commonplace
-character and adventures of Joe Maxwell with the vitality that belongs
-to fiction. Nevertheless, the lad himself, and the events which are
-herein described, seem to have been born of a dream. That which is
-fiction pure and simple in these pages bears to me the stamp of truth,
-and that which is true reads like a clumsy invention. In this matter
-it is not for me to prompt the reader. He must sift the fact from the
-fiction and label it to suit himself.
-
-J. C. H.
-
-
-
-
-ON THE PLANTATION.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I--JOE MAXWELL MAKES A START
-
-
-The post-office in the middle Georgia village of Hillsborough used
-to be a queer little place, whatever it is now. It was fitted up in
-a cellar; and the postmaster, who was an enterprising gentleman from
-Connecticut, had arranged matters so that those who went after their
-letters and papers could at the same time get their grocery supplies.
-
-Over against the wall on one side was a faded green sofa. It was not an
-inviting seat, for in some places the springs peeped through, and one of
-its legs was broken, giving it a suspicious tilt against the wall. But
-a certain little boy found one corner of the rickety old sofa a very
-comfortable place, and he used to curl up there nearly every day,
-reading such stray newspapers as he could lay hands on, and watching the
-people come and go.
-
-To the little boy the stock of goods displayed for sale was as curious
-in its variety as the people who called day after day for the letters
-that came or that failed to come. To some dainty persons the mingled
-odor of cheese, cam-phene, and mackerel would have been disagreeable;
-but Joe Maxwell--that was the name of the little boy--had a healthy
-disposition and a strong stomach, and he thought the queer little
-post-office was one of the pleasantest places in the world.
-
-A partition of woodwork and wire netting cut off the post-office and the
-little stock of groceries from the public at large, but outside of that
-was an area where a good many people could stand and wait for their
-letters. In one corner of this area was the rickety green sofa, and
-round about were chairs and boxes and barrels on which tired people
-could rest themselves.
-
-The Milledgeville papers had a large circulation in the county. They
-were printed at the capital of the State, and were thought to be very
-important on that account. They had so many readers in the neighborhood
-that the postmaster, in order to save time and trouble, used to pile
-them up on a long shelf outside the wooden partition, where each
-subscriber could help himself. Joe Maxwell took advantage of this
-method, and on Tuesdays, when the Milledgeville papers arrived, he could
-always be found curled up in the corner of the old green sofa reading
-the _Recorder_ and the _Federal Union_. What he found in those papers to
-interest him it would be hard to say. They were full of political essays
-that were popular in those days, and they had long reports of political
-conventions and meetings from all parts of the State. They were papers
-for grown people, and Joe Maxwell was only twelve years old, and small
-for his age.
-
-There was another place that Joe found it pleasant to visit, and that
-was a lawyer's office in one of the rooms of the old tavern that looked
-out on the pillared veranda. It was a pleasant place to him, not because
-it was a law-office, but because it was the office of a gentleman
-who was very friendly to the youngster. The gentleman's name was Mr.
-Deometari, and Joe called him Mr. Deo, as did the other people of
-Hillsborough. He was fat and short and wore whiskers, which gave him a
-peculiar appearance at that time. All the rest of the men that Joe knew
-wore either a full beard or a mustache and an imperial. For that reason
-Mr. Deometari's whiskers were very queer-looking. He was a Greek, and
-there was a rumor among the people about town that he had been compelled
-to leave his country on account of his politics. Joe never knew until
-long afterward that politics could be a crime. He thought that politics
-consisted partly in newspaper articles signed "Old Subscriber" and "Many
-Citizens" and "Vox Populi" and "Scrutator," and partly in arguments
-between the men who sat in fine weather on the dry-goods boxes under the
-china-trees. But there was a mystery about Mr. Deometari, and it pleased
-the lad to imagine all sorts of romantic stories about the fat lawyer.
-Although Mr. Deometari was a Greek, there was no foreign twang to his
-tongue. Only as close an observer as the boy could have told from his
-talk that he was a foreigner. He was a good lawyer and a good speaker,
-and all the other lawyers seemed to like him. They enjoyed his company
-so well that it was only occasionally that Joe found him in his office
-alone.
-
-[Illustration: 0026]
-
-Once Mr. Deometari took from his closet a military uniform and put it
-on. Joe Maxwell thought it was the most beautiful uniform he had ever
-seen. Gold braid ran down the sides of the trousers, gold cords hung
-loosely on the breast of the coat, and a pair of tremendous epaulets
-surmounted the shoulders. The hat was something like the hats Joe had
-seen in picture-books. It was caught up at the sides with little
-gold buttons, and trimmed with a long black feather that shone like a
-pigeon's breast. Fat as Mr. Deometari was, the lad thought he looked
-very handsome in his fine uniform. This was only one incident. In his
-room, which was a large one, Mr. Deometari had boxes packed with books,
-and he gave Joe leave to ransack them. Many of the volumes were in
-strange tongues, but among them were some quaint old English books,
-and these the lad relished beyond measure. After a while Mr. Deometari
-closed his office and went away to the war.
-
-It would not be fair to say that Joe was a studious lad. On the
-contrary, he was of an adventurous turn of mind, and he was not at all
-fond of the books that were in his desk at Hillsborough Academy. He was
-full of all sorts of pranks and capers, and there were plenty of people
-in the little town ready to declare that he would come to some bad end
-if he was not more frequently dosed with what the old folks used to call
-hickory oil. Some of Joe Maxwell's pranks were commonplace, but others
-were ingenious enough to give him quite a reputation for humor, and
-one prank in particular is talked of by the middle-aged people of
-Hillsborough to this day.
-
-The teacher of the academy had organized a military company among the
-pupils--it was just about the time when rumors and hints of war had
-begun to take shape--and a good deal of interest was felt in the
-organization, especially by the older boys. Of this company Joe Maxwell
-was the fourth corporal, a position which gave him a place at the foot
-of the company. The Hillsborough Cadets drilled every school-day, and
-sometimes on Saturdays, and they soon grew to be very proud of their
-proficiency.
-
-At last, after a good deal of manoeuvring on the playgrounds and in the
-public square, the teacher, who was the captain, concluded that the boys
-had earned a vacation, and it was decided that the company should go
-into camp for a week on the Oconee River, and fish and hunt and have a
-good time generally. The boys fairly went wild when the announcement was
-made, and some of them wanted to hug the teacher, who had hard work to
-explain that an attempt of this sort was not in accord with military
-tactics or discipline.
-
-All the arrangements were duly made. Tents were borrowed from the
-Hillsborough Rifles, and the drum corps of that company was hired to
-make music. A half-dozen wagons carried the camp outfit and the small
-boys, while the larger ones marched. It was an entirely new experience
-for Joe Maxwell, and he enjoyed it as only a healthy and high-spirited
-boy could enjoy it. The formal and solemn way in which the guard was
-mounted was very funny to him, and the temptation to make a joke of it
-was too strong to be resisted.
-
-The tents were pitched facing each other, with the officers' tent at the
-head of the line thus formed. At the other end of the lane and a little
-to the rear was the baggage-tent, in which the trunks, boxes, and
-commissaries were stored. Outside of all, the four sentinels marched
-up and down. The tents were pitched in an old field that was used as
-a pasture, and Joe noticed during the afternoon two mules and a horse
-browsing around. He noticed, too, that these animals were very much
-disturbed, especially when the drums began to beat, and that their
-curiosity would not permit them to get very far from the camp, no matter
-how frightened they were.
-
-It happened that one of Joe's messmates was to go on guard duty at
-twelve o'clock that night. He was a fat, awkward, good-natured fellow,
-this messmate, and a heavy sleeper, too, so that, when the corporal
-of the guard undertook to arouse him, all the boys in the tent
-were awakened. All except Joe quickly went to sleep again, but this
-enterprising youngster quietly put on his clothes, and, in the confusion
-of changing the guard, slipped out of the lines and hid in a convenient
-gully not far from the camp.
-
-It was his intention to worry if not to frighten his messmate, and while
-he lay there trying to think out the best plan to pursue, he heard the
-horse and mules trampling and snorting not very far off. Their curiosity
-was not yet satisfied, and they seemed to be making their way toward the
-camp for the purpose of reconnoitering.
-
-Joe's mind was made up in an instant.
-
-He slipped down the gully until the animals were between him and the
-camp, and then, seizing a large pine brush that happened to be lying
-near, he sprang toward them. The mules and horse were ripe for a
-stampede. The camp itself was an object of suspicion, and this attack
-from an unexpected quarter was too much for them. Snorting with terror
-they rushed in the direction of the tents. The sleepy sentinel, hearing
-them coming, fired his gun in the air and ran yelling into the camp,
-followed by the horse and one of the mules. The other mule shied to the
-right when the gun was fired, and ran into the baggage-tent. There was
-a tremendous rattle and clatter of boxes, pots, pans, and crockery ware.
-The mule, crazed with fright, made a violent effort to get through the
-tent, but it caught him in some way. Finally, the ropes that held it
-down gave way, and the mule, with the tent flapping and flopping on his
-back, turned and rushed through the camp. To all but Joe Maxwell it was
-a horrifying sight. Many of the boys, as the saying is, "took to
-the woods," and some of them were prostrated with fright. These were
-consequences that Joe had not counted on, and it was a long time before
-he confessed to his share in the night's sport. The results reached
-further than the camp. In another part of the plantation the negroes
-were holding a revival meeting in the open air, preaching and shouting
-and singing. Toward this familiar scene the mule made his way,
-squealing, braying, and kicking, the big white tent flopping on his
-back. As the terrified animal circled around the place, the negroes
-cried out that Satan had come, and the panic that ensued among them is
-not easily described. Many thought that the apparition was the ushering
-in of the judgment-day, while by far the greater number firmly believed
-that the "Old Boy" himself was after them. The uproar they made could
-be plainly heard at the camp, more than a mile away--shrieks, screams,
-yells, and cries for mercy. After it was all over, and Joe Maxwell had
-crept quietly to bed, the thought came to him that it was not such a
-fine joke, after all, and he lay awake a long time repenting the night's
-work. He heard the next day that nobody had been hurt and that no
-serious damage had been done, but it was many weeks before he forgave
-himself for his thoughtless prank.
-
-Although Joe was fond of fun, and had a great desire to be a clown in a
-circus or to be the driver of a stage-coach--just such a red and yellow
-coach, with "U. S. M." painted on its doors, as used to carry passengers
-and the mails between Hillsborough and Rockville--he never permitted
-his mind to dwell on these things. He knew very well that the time would
-soon come when he would have to support his mother and himself. This
-thought used to come to him again and again when he was sitting in the
-little post-office, reading the Milledgeville papers.
-
-It so happened that these papers grew very interesting to both old and
-young as the days went by. The rumors of war had developed into war
-itself. In the course of a few months two companies of volunteers had
-gone to Virginia from Hillsborough, and the little town seemed to be
-lonelier and more deserted than ever. Joe Maxwell noticed, as he sat in
-the post-office, that only a very few old men and ladies came after the
-letters and papers, and he missed a great many faces that used to
-smile at him as he sat reading, and some of them he never saw again. He
-noticed, too, that when there had been a battle or a skirmish the ladies
-and young girls came to the post-office more frequently. When the news
-was very important, one of the best-known citizens would mount a chair
-or a dry-goods box and read the telegrams aloud to the waiting and
-anxious group of people, and sometimes the hands and the voice of the
-reader trembled.
-
-One day while Joe Maxwell was sitting in the post-office looking
-over the Milledgeville papers, his eye fell on an advertisement that
-interested him greatly. It seemed to bring the whole world nearer to
-him. The advertisement set forth the fact that on next Tuesday the first
-number of _The Countryman_, a weekly paper would be published. It
-would be modeled after Mr. Addison's little paper, the _Spectator_, Mr.
-Goldsmith's little paper, the _Bee_, and Mr. Johnson's little paper, the
-_Rambler_. It would be edited by J. A. Turner, and it would be issued
-on the plantation of the editor, nine miles from Hillsborough. Joe read
-this advertisement over a dozen times, and it was with a great deal of
-impatience that he waited for the next Tuesday to come.
-
-But the day did come, and with it came the first issue of _The
-Countryman_. Joe read it from beginning to end, advertisements and all,
-and he thought it was the most entertaining little paper he had ever
-seen. Among the interesting things was an announcement by the editor
-that he wanted a boy to learn the printing business. Joe borrowed pen
-and ink and some paper from the friendly postmaster, and wrote a letter
-to the editor, saying that he would be glad to learn the printing
-business. The letter was no doubt an awkward one, but it served its
-purpose, for when the editor of _The Countryman_ came to Hillsborough
-he hunted Joe up, and told him to get ready to go to the plantation. The
-lad, not without some misgivings, put away his tops and marbles, packed
-his little belongings in an old-fashioned trunk, kissed his mother and
-his grandmother good-by, and set forth on what, turned out to be the
-most important journey of his life.
-
-Sitting in the buggy by the side of the editor and publisher of _The
-Countryman_, Joe Maxwell felt lonely indeed, and this feeling was
-increased as he went through the little town and heard his schoolmates,
-who were at their marbles on the public square, bidding him good-by.
-
-He could hardly keep back his tears at this, but, on looking around
-after the buggy had gone a little way, he saw his friends had returned
-to their marbles, and the thought struck him that he was already
-forgotten. Many and many a time after that he thought of his little
-companions and how quickly they had returned to their marbles.
-
-The editor of _The Countryman_ must have divined what was passing in
-the lad's mind (he was a quick-witted man and a clever one, too), for he
-tried to engage in conversation with Joe. But the boy preferred to nurse
-his loneliness, and would only talk when he was compelled to answer a
-question. Finally, the editor asked him if he would drive, and this Joe
-was glad enough to do, for there is some diversion in holding the reins
-over a spirited horse. The editor's horse was a large gray, named Ben
-Bolt, and he was finer than any of the horses that Joe had seen at the
-livery-stable. Feeling a new and an unaccustomed touch on the reins, Ben
-Bolt made an effort to give a new meaning to his name by bolting sure
-enough. The road was level and hard, and the horse ran rapidly for a
-little distance; but Joe Maxwell's arms were tough, and before the horse
-had gone a quarter of a mile the lad had him completely under control.
-
-"You did that very well," said the editor, who was familiar with Ben
-Bolt's tricks. "I didn't know that little boys in town could drive
-horses."
-
-"Oh, sometimes they can," replied Joe. "If he had been scared, I think
-I should have been scared myself; but he was only playing. He has been
-tied at the rack all day, and he must be hungry."
-
-"Yes," said the editor, "he is hungry, and he wants to see his mate, Rob
-Roy."
-
-Then the editor, in a fanciful way, went on to talk about Ben Bolt and
-Rob Roy, as if they were persons instead of horses; but it did not seem
-fanciful to Joe, who had a strange sympathy with animals of all kinds,
-especially horses and dogs. It pleased him greatly to think that he had
-ideas in common with a grown man, who knew how to write for the papers;
-and if the editor was talking to make Joe forget his loneliness he
-succeeded admirably, for the lad thought no more of the boys who had so
-quickly returned to their marbles, but only of his mother, whom he had
-last seen standing at the little gate smiling at him through her tears.
-
-As they drove along the editor pointed out a little log-cabin near the
-road.
-
-"That," said he, "is where the high sheriff of the county lives. Do you
-know Colonel John B. Stith?"
-
-"Yes," Joe replied; "but I thought he lived in a large, fine house. I
-don't see how he can get in at that door yonder."
-
-"What makes you think he is too big for the door?" asked the editor.
-
-"Why, the way he goes on," said Joe, with the bluntness of youth. "He is
-always in town talking politics, and he talks bigger than anybody."
-
-[Illustration: 0038]
-
-"Well," said the editor, laughing, "that is his house. When you get a
-little older you'll find people who are more disappointing than the high
-sheriff. Boys are sometimes too big for their breeches, I've heard said,
-but this is the first time I ever heard that a man could be too big for
-his house. That is a good one on the colonel."
-
-Ben Bolt trotted along steadily and rapidly, but after a while dusk
-fell, and then the stars came out. Joe peered ahead, trying to make out
-the road.
-
-"Just let the horse have his way," said the editor. "He knows the road
-better than I do"; and it seemed to be so, for, when heavy clouds from
-the west came up and hid the stars, and only the darkness was visible,
-Ben Bolt trotted along as steadily as ever. He splashed through Crooked
-Creek, walked up the long hill, and then started forward more rapidly
-than ever.
-
-"It is a level road, now," the editor remarked, "and Ben Bolt is on the
-home-stretch."
-
-In a little while he stopped before a large gate. It was opened in a
-jiffy by some one who seemed to be waiting.
-
-"Is that you, Harbert?" asked the editor.
-
-"Yes, marster."
-
-"Well, I want you to take Mr. Maxwell here to Mr. Snelson's."
-
-"Yasser," responded the negro.
-
-"Snelson is the foreman of the printing-office," the editor explained to
-Joe, "and for the present you are to board with him. I hope he will make
-things pleasant for you. Goodnight."
-
-To the lonely lad it seemed a long journey to Mr. Sneison's--through
-wide plantation gates, down narrow lanes, along a bit of public road,
-and then a plunge into the depths of a great wood, where presently a
-light gleamed through.
-
-"I'll hail 'em," said Harbert, and he sent before him into the darkness
-a musical halloo, whereupon, as promptly as its echo, came a hearty
-response from the house, with just the faintest touch of the Irish
-brogue in the voice.
-
-"Ah, and it's the young man! Jump right down and come in to the warmth
-of the fire. There's something hot on the hearth, where it's waiting
-you."
-
-And so Joe Maxwell entered on a new life--a life as different as
-possible from that which he had left behind in Hillsborough.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II--A PLANTATION NEWSPAPER
-
-
-The printing-office was a greater revelation to Joe Maxwell than it
-would be to any of the youngsters who may happen to read this. It was
-a very small affair; the type was old and worn, and the hand-press--a
-Washington No. 2--had seen considerable service. But it was all new to
-Joe, and the fact that he was to become a part of the machinery aroused
-in his mind the most delightful sensation. He quickly mastered the boxes
-of the printer's case, and before many days was able to set type swiftly
-enough to be of considerable help to Mr. Snel-son, who was foreman,
-compositor, and pressman.
-
-The one queer feature about _The Countryman_ was the fact that it was
-the only plantation newspaper that has ever been published, the nearest
-post-office being nine miles away. It might be supposed that such a
-newspaper would be a failure; but _The Countryman_ was a success from
-the start, and at one time it reached a circulation of nearly two
-thousand copies. The editor was a very original writer, and his
-editorials in _The Countryman_ were quoted in all the papers in
-the Confederacy, but he was happiest when engaged in a political
-controversy. Another feature of _The Countryman_ was the fact that there
-was never any lack of copy for the foreman and the apprentice to set.
-Instead of clipping from his exchanges, the editor sent to the office
-three books, from which extracts could be selected. These books were
-_Lacon_, Percy's _Anecdotes_, and Rochefoucauld's _Maxims_. Then
-there were weekly letters from the army in Virginia and voluntary
-contributions from many ambitious writers. Some of the war
-correspondence was very gloomy, for as the months wore on it told of the
-death of a great many young men whom Joe had known, and the most of them
-had been very kind to him.
-
-The days in the printing-office would have been very lonely for Joe, but
-the grove that surrounded it was full of gray squirrels. These had been
-so long undisturbed that they were comparatively tame. They were in
-the habit of running about over the roof of the office and playing at
-hide-and-seek like little children. To the roof, too, the blue-jays
-would bring their acorns and hammer at the hard shells in the noisiest
-way, and once a red fox made bold to venture near Joe's window, where
-he stood listening and sniffing the air until some noise caused him to
-vanish like a flash. Most interesting of all, a partridge and her mate
-built their nest within a few feet of the window, and it often happened
-that Joe neglected his work in watching the birds. They bent the long
-grass over from each side carefully until they had formed a little
-tunnel three or four feet long. When this was done, Mrs. Partridge made
-her way to the end of it and began to scratch and flutter just as a hen
-does when taking a dust-bath. She was hollowing out her nest. By the
-time the nest was completed the archway of grass that had hid it was
-considerably disarranged. Then Mrs. Partridge sat quietly on the little
-hollow she had made, while Mr. Partridge rebuilt the archway over her
-until she was completely concealed. He was very careful about this.
-Frequently he would walk off a little way and turn and look at the nest.
-If his sharp eyes could see anything suspicious, he would return
-and weave the grass more closely together. Finally, he seemed to be
-satisfied with his work. He shook his wings and began to preen himself,
-and then Mrs. Partridge came out and joined him. They consulted together
-with queer little duckings, and finally ran off into the undergrowth as
-if bent on a frolic.
-
-The work of Mr. and Mrs. Partridge was so well done that Joe found it
-very difficult to discover the nest when he went out of the office. He
-knew where it was from his window, but when he came to look for it out
-of doors it seemed to have disappeared, so deftly was it concealed; and
-he would have been compelled to hunt for it very carefully but for the
-fact that when Mrs. Partridge found herself disturbed she rushed from
-the little grass tunnel and threw herself at Joe's feet, fluttering
-around as if desperately wounded, and uttering strange little cries of
-distress. Once she actually touched his feet with her wings, but when he
-stooped to pick her up she managed to flutter off just out of reach
-of his hand. Joe followed along after Mrs. Partridge for some little
-distance, and he discovered that the farther she led him away from her
-nest the more her condition improved, until finally she ran off into the
-sedge and disappeared. Joe has never been able to find any one to tell
-him how Mrs. Partridge knew what kind of antics a badly wounded bird
-would cut up. He has been told that it is the result of instinct. The
-scientists say, however, that instinct is the outgrowth of necessity;
-but it seems hard to believe that necessity could have given Mrs.
-Partridge such accurate knowledge of the movements of a wounded bird.
-
-In carrying proofs from the printing-office to the editor, Joe Maxwell
-made two discoveries that he considered very important. One was that
-there was a big library of the best books at his command, and the other
-was that there was a pack of well-trained harriers on the plantation.
-He loved books and he loved dogs, and if he had been asked to choose
-between the library and the harriers he would have hesitated a long
-time. The books were more numerous--there were nearly two thousand of
-them, while there were only five harriers--but in a good many respects
-the dogs were the liveliest. Fortunately, Joe was not called on to make
-any choice. He had the dogs to himself in the late afternoon and the
-books at night, and he made the most of both. More than this, he had
-the benefit of the culture of the editor of _The Countryman_ and of the
-worldly experience of Mr. Snelson, the printer.
-
-To Joe Maxwell, sadly lacking in knowledge of mankind, Mr. Snelson
-seemed to be the most engaging of men. He was the echo and mouthpiece of
-a world the youngster had heard of but never seen, and it pleased him
-to hear the genial printer rehearse his experiences, ranging all the way
-from Belfast, Ireland, where he was born, to all the nooks and corners
-of the United States, including the little settlement where the
-plantation newspaper was published. Mr. Snelson had been a tramp and
-almost a tragedian, and he was pleased on many occasions to give his
-little apprentice a taste of his dramatic art. He would stuff a pillow
-under his coat and give readings from Richard III, or wrap his wife's
-mantilla about him and play Hamlet.
-
-[Illustration: 0047]
-
-When tired of the stage he would clear his throat and render some of the
-old ballads, which he sang very sweetly indeed.
-
-One night, after the little domestic concert was over and Joe was
-reading a book by the light of the pine-knot fire, a great fuss was
-heard in the hen-house, which was some distance from the dwelling.
-
-"Run, John," exclaimed Mrs. Snelson; "I just know somebody is stealing
-my dominicker hen and her chickens. Run!"
-
-"Let the lad go," said Mr. Snelson, amiably. "He's young and nimble,
-and whoever's there he'll catch 'em.--Run, lad! and if ye need help, lift
-your voice and I'll be wit' ye directly."
-
-The dwelling occupied by Mr. Snelson was in the middle of a thick wood,
-and at night, when there was no moon, it was very dark out of doors; but
-Joe Maxwell was not afraid of the dark. He leaped from the door and
-had reached the hen-house before the chickens ceased cackling and
-fluttering. It was too dark to see anything, but Joe, in groping his way
-around, laid his hand on Somebody.
-
-His sensations would be hard to describe. His heart seemed to jump into
-his mouth, and he felt a thrill run over him from head to foot. It was
-not fear, for he did not turn and flee. He placed his hand again on the
-Somebody and asked:
-
-"Who are you?"
-
-Whatever it was trembled most violently and the reply came in a weak,
-shaking voice and in the shape of another question:
-
-"Is dis de little marster what come fum town ter work in de paper
-office?"
-
-"Yes; who are you, and what are you doing here?"
-
-"I'm name Mink, suh, an' I b'longs to Marse Tom Gaither. I bin run'd
-away an' I got dat hongry dat it look like I bleedz ter ketch me a
-chicken. I bin mighty nigh famished, suh. I wish you'd please, suh,
-excusen me dis time."
-
-"Why didn't you break and run when you heard me coming?" asked Joe, who
-was disposed to take a practical view of the matter.
-
-"You wuz dat light-footed, suh, dat I ain't hear you, an' sides dat, I
-got my han' kotch in dish yer crack, an' you wuz right on top er me 'fo'
-I kin work it out."
-
-"Why don't you stay at home?" asked Joe.
-
-"Dey don't treat me right, suh," said the negro, simply. The very tone
-of his voice was more convincing than any argument could have been.
-
-"Can you get your hand out of the crack?" asked Joe.
-
-"Lord, yes, suh; I'd'a done got it out fo' now, but when you lipt on me
-so quick all my senses wuz skeered out'n me."
-
-"Well," said Joe, "get your hand out and stay here till I come back, and
-I'll fetch you something to eat."
-
-"You ain't foolin' me, is you, little marster?"
-
-"Do I look like I'd fool you?" said Joe, scornfully.
-
-"I can't see you plain, suh," said the negro, drawing a long breath,
-"but you don't talk like it."
-
-"Well, get your hand loose and wait."
-
-As Joe turned to go to the house, he saw Mr. Snelson standing in the
-door.
-
-"It's all right, sir," the youngster said. "None of the chickens are
-gone."
-
-"A great deal of fuss and no feathers," said Mr. Snelson. "I doubt but
-it was a mink."
-
-"Yes," said Joe, laughing. "It must have been a Mink, and I'm going to
-set a bait for him."
-
-"In all this dark?" asked the printer. "Why, I could stand in the door
-and crush it wit' me teeth."
-
-"Why, yes," replied Joe. "I'll take some biscuit and a piece of corn
-bread, and scatter them around the hen-house, and if the mink comes back
-he'll get the bread and leave the chickens alone."
-
-"Capital!" exclaimed Mr. Snelson, slapping Joe on the back. "I says to
-mother here, says I, 'As sure as you're born to die, old woman, that
-B'y has got the stuff in 'im that they make men out of.' I said them very
-words. Now didn't I, mother?"
-
-Joe got three biscuits and a pone of cornbread and carried them to Mink.
-The negro had freed his hand, and he loomed up in the darkness as tall
-as a giant.
-
-"Why, you seem to be as big as a horse," said Joe.
-
-"Thanky, little marster, thanky. Yes, suh, I'm a mighty stout nigger,
-an' ef marster would des make dat overseer lemme 'lone I'd do some
-mighty good work, an' I'd a heap druther do it dan ter be hidin' out in
-de swamp dis away like some wil' varmint. Good-night, little marster."
-
-[Illustration: 0052]
-
-"Good-night!" said Joe.
-
-"God bless you, little marster!" cried Mink, as he vanished in the
-darkness.
-
-That night in Joe Maxwell's dreams the voice of the fugitive came back
-to him, crying, "God bless you, little marster!"
-
-But it was not in dreams alone that Mink came back to Joe. In more than
-one way the negro played an important part in the lad's life on the
-plantation. One evening about dusk, as Joe was going home, taking a
-"near cut" through the Bermuda pasture, a tall form loomed up before
-him, outlining itself against the sky.
-
-"Howdy, little marster!'Tain't nobody but Mink. I des come ter tell you
-dat ef you want anything out'n de woods des sen' me word by Harbert. I
-got some pa'tridge-eggs here now. Deyer tied up in a rag, but dat don't
-hurt um. Ef you'll des spread out yo' hank'cher I'll put um in it."
-
-"Haven't you gone home yet?" asked Joe, as he held out his handkerchief.
-
-"Lord, no, suh!" exclaimed the negro. "De boys say dat de overseer say
-he waitin' fer Mink wid a club."
-
-There were four dozen of these eggs, and Joe and Mr. Snelson enjoyed
-them hugely.
-
-From that time forward, in one way and another, Joe Maxwell kept in
-communication with Mink. The lad was not too young to observe that the
-negroes on the plantation treated him with more consideration than they
-showed to other white people with the exception of their master. There
-was nothing they were not ready to do for him at any time of day or
-night. The secret of it was explained by Har-bert, the man-of-all-work
-around the "big house."
-
-"Marse Joe," said Harbert one day, "I wuz gwine'long de road de udder
-night an' I met a great big nigger man. Dish yer nigger man took an'
-stop me, he did, an' he'low, 'Dey's a little white boy on y o' place
-which I want you fer ter keep yo' two eyes on 'im, an' when he say come,
-you come, an' when he say go, you go.' I'low, ''hey, big nigger man!
-what de matter?' an' he 'spon' back, 'I done tole you, an' I ain't
-gwine tell you no mo'. So dar you got it, Marse Joe, an' dat de way it
-stan's."
-
-And so it happened that, humble as these negroes were, they had it in
-their power to smooth many a rough place in Joe Maxwell's life. The
-negro women looked after him with almost motherly care, and pursued
-him with kindness, while the men were always ready to contribute to his
-pleasure.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III--TRACKING A RUNAWAY
-
-
-One Sunday morning, not long after Joe's adventure with Mink, Harbert
-came to him with a serious face.
-
-"Marse Joe," he said, "dey er gwine ter ketch Mink dis time."
-
-"How do you know?"
-
-"Kaze, soon dis mornin' whiles I wuz a-feed-in' de hogs, I seed one er
-dem Gaither boys cornin' down de road under whip an' spur, an' I ax 'im
-wharbouts he gwine, an' he say he gwine atter Bill Locke an' his nigger
-dogs. He 'low dat he know whar Mink bin las' Friday night, an' dey gwine
-ter put de dogs on his track an' ketch 'im. Dey'll be'long back dis a way
-terreckly."
-
-The lad had witnessed many a fox-chase and had hunted rabbits hundreds
-of times, not only with the plantation harriers but with hounds; but he
-had never seen a runaway negro hunted down, and he had a boy's curiosity
-in the matter, as well as a personal interest in the fate of Mink. So he
-mounted his horse and waited for Mr. Locke and young Gaither to return.
-He knew Bill Locke well, having seen him often in Hillsborough. Mr.
-Locke had been an overseer, but he saved money, bought two or three
-negroes, and had a little farm of his own. He had a great reputation as
-a negro-hunter, mainly because the hunting of runaways was a part of
-his business. His two dogs, Music and Sound, were known all over the
-country, and they were the terror of the negroes, not because they were
-fierce or dangerous, but because of their sagacity. Sound was a small
-brown hound, not larger than a beagle, but he had such powers of scent
-that the negroes regarded him with superstitious awe. He had what is
-called a "cold nose," which is a short way of saying that he
-could follow a scent thirty-six hours old, and yet he was a very
-shabby-looking dog.
-
-When Locke and young Gaither rode by they were joined by Joe Maxwell,
-and his company seemed to be very welcome, especially to the Gaither
-boy, who regarded the affair as a frolic. Mr. Locke was a man of very
-few words. His face was dark and sallow and his eyes sunken. His
-neck was long and thin, and Joe observed that his "Adam's apple" was
-unusually large. As the negroes said, Mr. Locke and his dogs "favored"
-each other. He was small and puny, and his dogs were small and scrawny.
-
-"Do you think you'll catch Mink?" asked Joe. Mr Locke looked at the lad
-almost pityingly, and smiled.
-
-"We'll git the nigger," he replied, "if he's been seed sence Friday
-noon. We'll git him if he ain't took wings. All I ast of him is to stay
-somewheres on top of the ground, and he's mine."
-
-"Why did the negro run away?" said Joe to young Gaither.
-
-"Oh, he can't get along with the overseer. And I don't blame him much.
-I told pap this morning that if I had to choose between Mink and Bill
-Davidson I'd take Mink every time. But the trouble with pap is he's
-getting old, and thinks he can't get along without an overseer, and
-overseers are mighty hard to get now. I tell you right now that when I
-get grown I'm not going to let any overseer bang my niggers around."
-
-Mr. Locke said nothing, but Joe heartily indorsed young Gaither's
-sentiments.
-
-When they arrived at the Gaither place, Mr. Locke asked to be shown the
-house that Mink had occupied. Then he asked for the blankets on which
-the negro had slept. These could not be found. Well, an old coat would
-do--anything that the negro had worn or touched. Finally, a dirty,
-greasy bag, in which Mink had carried his dinner to the field, was
-found. This would do, Mr. Locke said, and, taking it in his hand, he
-called his dogs and held it toward them. Sound smelled it more carefully
-than Music.
-
-"Now, then," said Mr. Locke, "where'bouts was he seed? At the hog-pen
-last Friday night? All right, we'll ride around there and kinder send
-him a message."
-
-Joe was very much interested in all this, and he watched Mr. Locke
-and his dogs very closely. When they arrived at the hog-pen, the negro
-hunter dismounted and examined the ground. Then he spoke to his dogs.
-
-"Sound!" he exclaimed, sharply, "what are you doing? Look about.--Music!
-what are you here for?"
-
-The shabby little dog seemed to be suddenly transformed. He circled
-around the hogpen rapidly, getting farther and farther away each time.
-Mr. Locke never took his eyes from the dog.
-
-"It's cold--mighty cold," he said, presently. Then he spoke to the dog
-again. "Sound! come here, sir! Now git down to your knitting! Come,
-knuckle down! Try 'em, old fellow! try 'em!"
-
-Thus encouraged, the dog, with his nose to the ground, went carefully
-around the hog-pen. At one spot he paused, went on, and then came back
-to it. This performance he repeated several times, and then began to
-work his way toward an old field, going very slowly and carefully.
-
-"Well, sir," said Mr. Locke, heaving a sigh of relief, "I thought it was
-a gone case, but the nigger's been here, and we've got him."
-
-"May be the dog is trailing somebody else," Joe Maxwell suggested.
-
-Mr. Locke laughed softly and pityingly. "Why, I tell you what, buddy,"
-he exclaimed, "if all the niggers in the country had tramped around here
-that dog wouldn't track none of 'em but the special nigger we're after.
-Look at that puppy, how he's working!"
-
-And truly it was an interesting if not a beautiful sight to see the
-dog untangling the tangle of scent. More than once he seemed to be
-dissatisfied with himself and made little excursions in search of a
-fresher clew, but he always returned to the point where he had left off,
-taking up the faint thread of scent and carrying it farther away from
-the hog-pen. The patience and industry of the dog were marvelous. Mr.
-Locke himself was patient. He encouraged the hound with his voice, but
-made no effort to urge him on.
-
-"It's colder than a gravestone," said Mr. Locke, finally. "It's been a
-long time sence that nigger stepped around here. And the ground's
-high and dry. If we can work the trail to the branch yonder, he's our
-meat.--Try for 'im, Sound! Try for 'im."
-
-Gradually the dog worked out the problem of the trail. Across the hill
-he went, with many turnings and twistings, until finally he struck
-into the path that led from the negro quarters to the spring where the
-washing was done. Down this path the hound ran without deigning to put
-his nose to the ground. At the branch he lapped his fill of water, and
-then took up his problem again. A half-dozen wash-pots were scattered
-around, and under the largest a fire was smoldering. On a bench, side
-by side, three tubs were sitting, and it was at this bench that Sound
-picked up the trail again. Evidently Mink had paused to chat with the
-woman who was washing. The ground was moist, and the dog had little
-trouble. As he recovered the trail he expressed his gratification by
-a little whimper. The trail led down the spring branch and into a
-plantation road, then over a fence and across a "new ground" until it
-struck a bypath that led to an arbor near a church, where the negroes
-had been holding a revival meeting. At this point there was another
-problem for the dog. A hundred or two negroes had been gathered here,
-and it was evident that Mink had been one of the crowd, mingling with
-the others and walking about with them.
-
-Young Gaither called Mr. Locke's attention to this. "You'll never get
-the trail away from here in the world," said he. "Why don't you take the
-dog and circle round with him?"
-
-"That dog," said Mr. Locke, watching the hound anxiously, "has got
-notions of his own, and he's bound to carry 'em out. He won't be fooled
-with. Don't say nothing. Just stand off and watch him. He's been in
-worse places than this here."
-
-But it was a tedious task the dog had before him. Winding in and out in
-the mazes of an invisible labyrinth, turning and twisting, now slowly,
-now more rapidly, he pursued with unerring nose the footsteps of the
-runaway, and when he had followed the trail away from the church he
-was going at a brisk pace, and his whimper had changed to an occasional
-yelp. Mr. Locke, who up to this time had been leading his horse, now
-took off his coat, folded it carefully, and laid it on his saddle. Then
-he remounted his horse, and with Gaither and Joe Maxwell trotted along
-after his dog.
-
-Mink must have lingered on the way, for a quarter of a mile farther on
-Music joined Sound in his work, and the two dogs footed it along right
-merrily, their mellow voices rousing a hundred echoes among the old red
-hills.
-
-A mile farther the dogs paused at a tree where there were traces of
-fire. Scattered around were scraps of sweet-potato peelings and bread.
-
-"Here is where the gentleman roosted last night," said Mr. Locke; and
-it must have been true, for Sound, with his head in the air, made a half
-circle, picked up a warmer trail, and the two dogs were off like the
-wind. Joe Maxwell became very much interested. The horse he was riding
-was swift and game, and he drew away from the others easily. Neither
-ditches nor gullies were in his way, and in the excitement a six-rail
-fence seemed to be no obstacle. Mr. Locke shouted something at Joe,
-probably some word of warning, but the meaning failed to reach the lad's
-ears. Butterfly fought for his head and got it, and in the twinkling of
-an eye carried his rider out of hearing of his companions.
-
-The dogs had swerved a little to the left, and were making straight for
-the river--the Oconee. Butterfly ran into a plantation road and would
-have crossed it, but Joe held him to it, and soon discovered that he was
-gaining on the dogs. From slightly different directions the hounds and
-the horse seemed to be making for the same point--and this point, as
-it turned out, was the plantation ferry, where a bateau was kept. Joe
-Maxwell reached the top of the hill overlooking the river just as the
-dogs reached the ferry. Here he drew rein and looked about him. The
-hounds ran about on the river-bank barking and howling. Sound went
-into the water, but, finding that he was drifting down instead of going
-across, he made his way out and shook himself, but still continued to
-bark. A quarter of a mile away there was a great bend in the river. Far
-down this bend Joe could see a bateau drifting. As he watched it the
-thought struck him that it did not sit as lightly in the water as an
-empty boat should. "Suppose," he asked himself, with a laugh--"suppose
-Mink is in the bottom of that bateau?"
-
-He dismissed the thought as Mr. Locke and young Gaither came up.
-
-"That's a thundering slick hoss you're riding," said Mr. Locke. "He'd do
-fine work in a fox-hunt. Where's the nigger?"
-
-"The dogs can tell you more about it than I can," said Joe.
-
-"Well," remarked Mr. Locke, with a sigh,
-
-"I know'd I'd miss him if he ever got to the ferry here and found the
-boat on this side. Why, dang his black skin!" exclaimed the negro-hunter
-vehemently, as he glanced down the river and saw the bateau floating
-away in the distance, "he's gone and turned the boat loose! That shows
-we was a-pushin' 'im mighty close. I reckon you could a' seed 'im if
-you'd looked clos't when you first come up."
-
-"No," replied Joe; "he was out of sight, and the boat was drifting
-around the elbow. You were not more than five minutes behind me."
-
-"Bless your soul, buddy," exclaimed Mr. Locke, "five minutes is a mighty
-long time when you are trying to ketch a runaway."
-
-So ended the race after Mink. To Joe Maxwell it was both interesting and
-instructive. He was a great lover of dogs, and the wonderful performance
-of Sound had given him new ideas of their sagacity.
-
-A few mornings after the unsuccessful attempt to catch Mink, a very
-queer thing happened. Harbert was sweeping out the printing-office,
-picking up the type that had been dropped on the floor, and Joe was
-preparing to begin the day's work. Suddenly Harbert spoke:
-
-"Marse Joe," said he, "when you rid out ter de river Sunday, is you
-happen ter see er bateau floatin' 'roun'?"
-
-Joe looked at Harbert for some explanation of the singular question, but
-the negro pretended to be very busily engaged in picking up scraps of
-paper.
-
-"Yes," said Joe, after a pause, "I saw a boat drifting down the river.
-What about it?"
-
-"Well, suh, I speck ef de trufe waz ter git out, dat dey wuz one er yo'
-ole 'quaintance in dat boat, an' I bet a thrip dat ef you'd a-hollered
-howdy, dey'd a-hollered howdy back."
-
-Harbert was still too busy to look up.
-
-"Hit de funniest boat what I yever come 'cross," he went on, "agwine
-floatin' long down by itse'f, an' den, on top er dat, come floatin' long
-back agin."
-
-"How do you know about the bateau?"
-
-"Whiles you bin gwine'long de road, Marse Joe," said Harbert, still
-making a great pretense of gathering up the trash in the room, "ain't
-you never is see all dem little birds flyin' 'mongst de bushes an' 'long
-de fence? Well, suh, dem little birds kin tell mo' tales ef you listen
-at 'em right close dan all deze yer papers what you bin printin'. Dey er
-mighty cu'us, an' dey er mighty cunnin'. Dey tole me lots mo' dan
-dat. Dey say dat de young Gaither boy took an' sont word ter Marse Tom
-Clemmons dat somebody done gone an' stole de bateau at de ferry, but yit
-when Marse Tom go out fer ter look atter his boat dar she is right spang
-whar he lef' 'er. Now, how you 'count fer dat?"
-
-"Then, Mink--"
-
-"Coon an' 'possum!" interrupted Harbert, as Mr. Snelson appeared in the
-doorway.
-
-"'Possum it is!" exclaimed that genial gentleman. "In season or out of
-season, I'll never refuse it."
-
-"Well, suh," said Harbert, "ef de talk gwine ter fall on 'possum, I'm
-bleeds ter go, kase when I hear folks talkin' 'bout'possum hit make me
-dribble at de mouf." The negro went off laughing loudly.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV--SHADOWS OF THE WAR
-
-
-What with the books in the library and the life out of doors in the
-afternoons, Joe Maxwell grew very fond of his new home. His work at the
-printers' case was not a task, but a pleasure. He grew to be an expert
-in type-setting and won unstinted praise from Mr. Snelson. Sometimes he
-wrote little paragraphs of his own, crediting them to "The Countryman's
-Devil," and the editor was kind enough to make no objection, and
-this fact was very encouraging to the lad, who was naturally shy and
-sensitive.
-
-Only the echoes of the war were heard at the Turner place; but once the
-editor returned from Hillsborough with some very sad news for a lady who
-lived near _The Countryman_ office with her father, Her husband had been
-killed in one of the great battles, and her screams when the editor told
-her of it, and the cries of her little daughter, haunted Joe Maxwell for
-many a long day. Sometimes he lay awake at night thinking about it, and
-out of the darkness it seemed to him that he could build a grim mirage
-of war, vanishing and reappearing like an ominous shadow, and devouring
-the people.
-
-The war was horrible enough, distant as it was, but the people who were
-left at home--the women and children, the boys, the men who were exempt,
-the aged and the infirm--had fears of a fate still more terrible. They
-were fears that grew out of the system of slavery, and they grew until
-they became a fixed habit of the mind. They were the fears of a negro
-insurrection. The whites who were left at home knew that it was in the
-power of the negroes to rise and in one night sweep the strength and
-substance of the Southern Confederacy from the face of the earth. Some
-of the more ignorant whites lived in constant terror.
-
-Once it was whispered around that the blacks were preparing to rise,
-and the fears of the people were so ready to confirm the rumor that the
-plantations were placed in a state of siege. The patrol--called by the
-negroes "patter-rollers"--was doubled, and for a time the negro quarters
-in all parts of the country were visited nightly by the guard. But Joe
-Maxwell noticed that the patrol never visited the Turner plantation, and
-he learned afterward that they had been warned off. The editor of _The
-Countryman_ had the utmost confidence in his negroes, and he would not
-allow them to be disturbed at night by the "patter-rollers." He laughed
-at the talk of a negro uprising, and it was a favorite saying of his
-that the people who treated their negroes right had nothing to fear from
-them.
-
-[Illustration: 0073]
-
-As for Joe Maxwell, he had no time to think about such things. He
-sometimes rode with the patrol on their fruitless and sometimes foolish
-errands, but his curiosity with regard to them was soon satisfied, and
-he was better contented when he was spending his evenings at home with
-his books, or in listening to the wonderful tales that Mr. Snelson
-told for his benefit. In spite of the fact that his work in the little
-printing-office was confining, the lad managed to live an outdoor life
-for a good part of the time. He had a task to do--so many thousand ems
-to set--and then he was through for the day. The thoughtful Mr. Snelson
-added to this task from time to time, but Joe always managed to complete
-it so as to have the greater part of the afternoon for his own.
-
-There was a hat-shop on the plantation presided over by Mr. Wall, a
-queer old man from North Carolina. With the thrift of youth Joe gave
-the amusement of rabbit-hunting a business turn. In the fall and winter,
-when the rabbits were in fur, their skins could be sold at the
-hat-shop at twenty-five cents a dozen, and the little harriers were so
-industrious and so well trained that he sometimes sold as many as three
-dozen skins, a week. In addition to the pleasure and the money he got
-from the sport, he became very much interested in the hat-shop.
-
-The hats were made as they had been during the Revolution, and as they
-were no doubt made in England before the Revolution. The hair on the
-pelts or skins was scraped off with a knife fashioned like a shoemaker's
-knife. The fur was then cut away with a steel blade that had no handle.
-When there was enough fur to make a hat it was placed on a bench or
-counter. Over the counter was suspended a long staff, to which was
-fastened a bowstring. If the staff had been bent it would have had the
-appearance of a huge bow, but it was straight, and the rawhide string
-was allowed a little play. With an instrument not unlike a long spool
-the hatter would catch the bowstring, pull it away from the staff, and
-allow it to whip against the fur as it sprang back into place. This
-whipping was carried on very rapidly, and was kept up until every tuft
-of fur was broken apart. Then the fur was whipped gently into what was
-called a bat, shaped somewhat like a section of orange peel. The hatter
-then spread a cambric cloth carefully over it, pressed it down a little,
-seized the cloth in the middle between thumb and forefinger, gave it a
-flirt in the air and lifted fur and all. To Joe Maxwell it seemed like a
-trick of magic.
-
-The cloth, with the bat of fur lying smoothly and neatly in its fold,
-was then placed on a heating box, and kneaded rapidly but gently.
-When it seemed to be getting too hot it was sprinkled with water. This
-kneading was kept up until the fur shrunk together. When taken from the
-cloth it was in the shape of the hats the clowns used to wear in the
-circus, and it was called a bonnet. The bonnet was then dipped in
-boiling water and pressed and kneaded with an instrument shaped like a
-rolling-pin, but smaller. The workers in this department were compelled
-to protect their hands from the boiling water by means of leather
-fastened to the palms of their hands. The more the bonnets were rolled
-and kneaded, the more they shrunk, until finally they were ready to be
-placed on the blocks that gave them the hat shape. They were fitted to
-these blocks, which were of various sizes, and thrown into a caldron of
-boiling water, where they were allowed to stay until they would shrink
-no more.
-
-When hats became scarce after the breaking out of the war, the editor
-bought Mr. Wall's interest in the hat-shop, and made him foreman.
-Several negroes were placed under him, and they soon became experts
-in hat-making. There was a great demand for the hats from all over
-the South, and on one occasion Joe Maxwell sold a dozen wool hats for
-$500--in Confederate money.
-
-But the most interesting thing about the shop, as Joe thought, was the
-head hatter, Miles Wall, who was the quaintest old man that Joe had ever
-seen. He was illiterate--he didn't know a letter in the book--and yet he
-was not ignorant. The Bible had been read to him until he was grounded
-in its texts and teachings, and he was always ready for an argument on
-politics or religion.
-
-[Illustration: 0076]
-
-"Whenever you hear anybody a-axing anything," he used to say, "'bout how
-I'm a-gettin' on, an' how my family is, un' whether er no my health is
-well, you thess up an' tell um that I'm a nachul Baptis'. You thess up
-an' tell um that, an' I'll be mighty much erbleege to you. Tell um I'm a
-born'd Baptis'."
-
-Although Mr. Wall was unable to read or write, Joe Maxwell found him to
-be a very interesting talker. Perhaps it was his ignorance of books
-that made him interesting. He was more superstitious than any of the
-negroes--a great believer in signs and omens. One night when Joe went to
-visit him, the old man told a story that made a very deep impression on
-the lad. There was nothing in the story, but Mr. Wall identified himself
-with it, and told it in a way that made it seem real, and it was a long
-time before Joe could divest himself of the idea that the story was not
-true. Wherever Mr. Wall got it, whether he dreamed it or heard it, there
-is no doubt that he really believed it.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V--MR. WALL'S STORY
-
-
-This is the way he told it, by the light of a pine-knot fire that threw
-a wavering and an uncertain light over the little room:
-
-"I'm monst'us sorry. Daught ain't here," he began, "'cause she know'd
-the folks thess ez well ez I did; she's been thar at the house an' seed
-um. It thess come inter my min' whilst we been a-settin' here talkin'
-'bout ghostses an' the like er that. Daught's over yander settin' up wi'
-Mis Clemmons, an' I wisht she wuz here. She know'd 'em all.
-
-"Well, sir, it wuz in North Ca'liny, right nex' ter the Ferginny
-line, whar we all cum frum. They wuz a fammerly thar by the name er
-Chambliss--Tom Chambliss an' his wife--an' they had a boy name John, in
-about ez peart a chap ez you ever set your eyes on. Arter awhile, Miss
-Chambliss, she took sick an' died. Tom, he moped aroun' right
-smartually, but 'twan't long fo' he whirled in an' married agin. He went
-away off some'rs for to get his wife, the Lord knows whar, an' she wuz a
-honey! She fussed so much an' went on so that Tom, he took ter drink,
-an' he went from dram ter dram tell he wern't no manner account. Then
-she took arter John, the boy, an' she thess made that child's life
-miserbul a-doggin' arter him all day long an' half the night.
-
-"One Sunday she fixed up an' went ter church, arter tellin' Johnny for
-to stay at home an' keep the chickens outn' the sallid-patch. She locked
-the door of the house before she went off an' took the key wi' 'er. It
-wuz right down coolish, but the sun wuz a-shinin' an' Johnny didn't min'
-the cold. Ther' wuz a big white oak-tree in the yard, an' he clum' up
-that an' crope out on a lim' an' got on top er the house, an' sot up
-thar a straddle er the comb. He wuz a feeling mighty lonesome, an' he
-didn't know what ter do wi' hisse'f skacely.
-
-"I dunno how long he sot thar, but presently a great big acorn dropped
-on the roof--_ker-bang!_ It wuz sech a big one an' it fell so hard that
-it made Johnny jump. It fell on the roof 'bout half-way betwixt the comb
-an' the eaves, an' when Johnny looked aroun' for to see what made the
-fuss he seed the acorn a-rollin' up to'rds whar he wuz a-settin'. Yes,
-sir! stedder rollin' down the roof an' failin' off on the groun', the
-acorn come a-rollin' up the shingles thess like it wuz down grade.
-Johnny grabbed it ez it come. He picked it up an' looked at it good, an'
-then turned it roun' an' 'roun' for to see what kinder consarn it wuz
-that rolled up hill stedder rollin' down hill. While he wuz a turnin'
-the acorn aroun' he spied a worm hole in it, an' he was thess about
-ter break it open when he heard somebody callin'. It sounded like his
-stepmammy wuz a-callin' 'im from a way off yander, an' he answered
-back 'Ma'am!' thess ez loud as ever he could, an' then he sot still an'
-listened. Bimeby he heard the callin' again, an' he answered back:
-'Who is you, an' whar is you?' It seemed like then that he could hear
-somebody laughin' at 'im some'rs. These here sounds sorter put 'im out,
-an' he took an' shot the acorn down the roof like it wuz a marvel. Yit,
-before it could fall off, it seemed ter kinder ketch itself, an' then it
-come a-rollin' back to Johnny.
-
-"This sorter made Johnny feel kinder creepy. He know'd mighty well that
-he didn't have no loadstone in his pocket, an' he couldn't make no head
-ner tail to sech gwine's on. He picked up the acorn an' looked at it
-closeter than ever, an' turned it 'roun' an' 'roun' in his hand, an'
-helt it right up to his eye. Whilst he was a-holdin' it up that a-way
-he heard a little bit er voice ez fine ez a cambric needle, an' it seem
-like it wuz a-singin':
-
-                   "Ningapie, Ningapie!
-
-                   Why do you hol' me at your eye?
-
-                   Ningapie, Ningapee!
-
-                   Don't you know that you can't see?
-
-                   Ningapie, Ningapeer!
-
-                   Why don't you hol' me to your ear?
-
-[Illustration: 0082]
-
-"Johnny didn't know whether to laugh er cry, but he helt the acorn to
-his ear, an' he heard sumpin' er other on the inside holler out:
-
-"'Why don't you hold my house so I can talk out'n my window?'
-
-"'I don't see no window,' says Johnny, sorter shakin' a little, bekase
-the Watchermacollum talked like it was mad. 'Is thish here worm-hole
-your window?'
-
-"'Tooby shore it is,' say the Whatshisname, 'it's my window an' my front
-door, an' my peazzer.'
-
-"'Why, it ain't bigger than the pint of a pin,' says Johnny.
-
-"'But ef it wuzn't big enough,' say the--er--Watchermacollum, 'I'd make
-it bigger.'
-
-"'What is your name?' says Johnny.
-
-"'Ningapie.'
-
-"'It's a mighty funny name,' says Johnny. 'Where did you come from?'
-
-"'Chuckalucker town.'
-
-"'That's in the song,' says Johnny.
-
-"'Me, too," says Ningapie. 'It's in the song. Ain't you never heard it?'
-
-                   "Ningapie! Ningapan!
-
-                   He up an' killed the Booger Man!
-
-                   Ningapie, Ningapitch!
-
-                   'He's the one to kill a witch.'
-
-"Johnny wuz so took up wi' the talkin' an' the singin' of the little
-feller in the acorn that he didn't hear his stepmammy when she come,
-an' when he did hear her he wuz that skeered that he shook like a
-poplar-leaf.
-
-"'Watch out!' says the little chap in the acorn. 'Watch out! Be right
-still. Don't move. I want to show you sumpin'.'
-
-"'She'll skin me alive,' says Johnny.
-
-"'Thess wait,' says the little chap. 'If she calls you, keep right
-still.'
-
-"Mis. Chambliss onlocked the door an' went in the house, an' slammed
-things down like she wuz mad. She flung the tongs down on the h'ath,
-slung the shovel in a corner, an' sot a cheer back like she wuz tryin'
-for to drive it thoo the wall. Then she began to jaw.
-
-"'I'll get 'im! Me a-tellin' 'im to stay an' min' the sallid-patch, an'
-he a-runnin' off! Won't I make 'im pay for it?'
-
-"'That's me,' says Johnny, an' he talked like he wuz mighty nigh ready
-to cry.
-
-"'Thess wait!' says the little chap in the acorn. 'Keep right still!'
-
-"Bimeby Mis. Chambliss come out'n the house an' looked all aroun'. Then
-she called Johnny. She had a voice like a dinner-horn, an' you moughter
-heard her a mile or more. Johnny he shook an' shivered, but he stayed
-still. His stepmammy called an' called, an' looked ever'whar for Johnny
-exceptin' in the right place. Then she went back in the house an'
-presently she come out. She had a little spade in one hand an' a little
-box in t' other.
-
-"'Watch her!' says the little chap in the acorn. 'Keep your eye on her!'
-
-"She went down in the gyarden an' walked along tell she come to a Mogul
-plum-tree, an' then she knelt down an' begun to dig away at the roots of
-it. She dug an' dug, and then she put the box in the hole an' covered it
-up.
-
-"'Oho!' says the little chap in the acorn. 'Now you see whar she hides
-her money an' your daddy's money. Ever'body thinks your daddy has
-been a-throwin' his money away, an' thar's whar it's gone. I've been
-a-watchin' her a long time.'
-
-"'I ain't botherin' 'bout the money,' says Johnny. 'I'm a-thinkin' 'bout
-the frailin' I'm gwine to git.'
-
-"'Well,' says the little chap in the acorn, 'when she goes to the spring
-for to fetch a bucket of water, put me in your pocket an' climb down
-from here. Then go up the road a piece, an' there you'll see a red
-cow a-grazin'. Walk right up to her, slap her on the back, an' say,
-"Ningapie wants you." Fetch her home an' tell your stepmammy that a
-stranger told you that you might have her ef you'd go an' git her.'
-
-"Shore enough, 'twan't long before Mis. Chambliss come out'n the house
-an' started to the spring for to git a bucket of water. She had done
-took an' pulled off her Sunday-go-to-meetin' duds, an' she looked mighty
-scrawny in her calico frock. Time she got out'n sight Johnny put the
-acorn in his pocket an' scrambled down to the groun', an' then he split
-off up the road ez hard ez ever he could go. He didn't go so mighty fur
-before he seed a red cow feedin' by the side of the road, an' she wuz a
-fine cow, too, ez fat ez a butter-ball, an' lookin' like she mought be
-able for to give four gallons of milk a day an' leave some over for the
-calf wharsoever the calf mought be. When she seed Johnny walkin' right
-to'rds her, she raised her head an' sorter blowed like cow creeturs will
-do, but she stood stock still tell Johnny come up an' patted her on the
-back an' says:
-
-"'Ningapie wants you.'
-
-"Then she shook her head an' trotted along at Johnny's heels, an' Johnny
-marched down the road a-swellin' up wi' pride tell he like to bust the
-buttons off'n his coat. When he got home his stepmammy wuz a-stan'in'
-at the gate a-waitin' for him wi' a hickory, but when she seed the cow
-a-followin' long behine him, she took an' forgot all about the whippin'
-she'd laid up.
-
-"'Why, Johnny!' say she, 'whar in the wide world did you git sech a
-be-u-tiful cow?'"
-
-In his effort to mimic a woman's voice, Mr. Wall screwed up his mouth
-and twisted it around to such an alarming extent that Joe Maxwell
-thought for an instant the old man was going to have a spasm. The lad
-laughed so heartily when he found out his mistake that Mr. Wall repeated
-his effort at mimicking.
-
-"'Why, Johnny,' say she, 'whar in the wide world did you git sech a
-be-u-tiful cow?'
-
-"Johnny, he up an' tol' his stepmammy what Ningapie tol' 'im to say, an'
-the ole'oman, she wuz e'en about ez proud ez Johnny wuz. She patted the
-cow on the back, an' muched her up might'ly, an' then she took her in
-the lot an' got ready fer to milk her. Johnny felt the acorn a-jumpin'
-about in his pocket, an' he took it out an' helt it up to his ear.
-
-"'Watch her when she goes to milk,' says Ningapie.
-
-"Johnny clumb the fence an' waited. Thess 'bout the time his stepmammy
-begun fer to milk the cow good, a little black dog come a-rushin' 'roun'
-the yard a-barkin' fit to kill. Time she heard 'im, the cow give a jump
-an' come mighty nigh knockin' ole Mis. Chambliss over. Time everything
-got quiet, here come a big pack of dogs a-chargin' 'roun' the
-lot-palin's in full cry, an' it look like to Johnny that the cow would
-shorely have a fit.
-
-"When night come," Mr. Wall continued, throwing another pine-knot into
-the fire, "Johnny got some milk for his supper, an' then he went to bed.
-He helt the acorn to his ear for to tell the little chap good-night.
-
-"'Don't put me on the shelf,' says Ningapie, 'an' don't put me on the
-floor.'
-
-"'Why?' says Johnny, in a whisper.
-
-"'Bekaze the rats might git me,' says Ningapie.
-
-"'Well,' says Johnny, 'I'll let you sleep on my piller.'
-
-"Some time in the night Johnny felt sump'n run across the foot of his
-bed. He wuz wide awake in a minit, but he kept mighty still, bekaze he
-wuz skeer'd. Presently he felt sump'n jump up on his bed an' run across
-it. Then it popped in his head about Ningapie, an' he felt for the acorn
-tell he found it.
-
-"'Now's your time,' says Ningapie. 'Git up an' put on your clozes quick
-an' foller the little black dog.'
-
-"Johnny jumped up, an' was ready in three shakes of a sheep's tail, an'
-he could hear the little black dog a-caperin' aroun' on the floor. When
-he started, he took the acorn in his han'. The door opened to let him
-out, an' shot itse'f when he got out, an' then the little black dog went
-trottin' down the big road. It wuz dark, but the stars wuz a-shinin',
-an' Johnny could tell by the ell-an'-yard" (the constellation of Orion)
-"that it wuz nigh midnight.
-
-"They hadn't gone fur before they come to a big white hoss a-standin' in
-the road, chompin' his bit an' pawin' the groun'.
-
-"'Mount the hoss,' says Ningapie.
-
-"Johnny jumped on his back, an' the hoss went canterin' down the road.
-'Twan't long 'fore Johnny seed a light shinin' in the road, an' when
-he got a little nigher he seed it was right in the middle of the cross
-roads. A fire was a-blazin' up thar, an' who should be a-feedin' of it
-but his stepmammy? Her hair wuz a-hangin' down, an' she looked like ole
-Nick hisse'f. She wuz a-walkin' 'roun' the blaze, a-mumblin' some kinder
-talk, an' a-makin' motions wi' her han's, an' thar wuz a great big
-black cat a-walkin' 'roun' wi' her, an' a-rubbin' up agin her, and the
-creetur's tail wuz swelled up out'n all reason.
-
-"'Watch out, now,' says Ningapie, 'an''hold on to your hoss.'
-
-"He hadn't more'n spoke the words before a pack of dogs broke out of the
-woods an' made right for the ole'oman, an' Johnny's hoss a-fol-lerin'
- 'em. Thar wuz a monst'us scatteration of chunks an' fire-coals, an' then
-it looked like 'oman, dogs, an' all riz up in the elements, an' thar wuz
-sech another yowlin' an' howlin' an' growlin' ez ain't never been heard
-in them parts before nor sence.
-
-"When Johnny got back home he found his pappy a-waitin' for him, an' he
-looked like a new man. Then they went down into the gyarden, an'
-thar they foun' a pile of gold packed up in little boxes. Ez for
-the ole'oman, she never did come back. She wuz a witch, an' Ningapie
-unwitched her."
-
-"And what become of the acorn?" asked Joe Maxwell.
-
-"Ah, Lord!" said Mr. Wall, with a sigh, "you know how boys is. Like ez
-not, Johnny took an' cracked it open wi' a hammer for to see what kind
-of a creetur Ningapie wuz."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI--THE OWL AND THE BIRDS
-
-
-The Gaither boy grew to be very friendly with Joe Maxwell, and he
-turned out to be a very pleasant companion. He was fifteen years old,
-but looked younger, and although he had no book-learning, he was very
-intelligent, having picked up a great deal of the wholesome knowledge
-that Nature keeps in store for those who make her acquaintance. He could
-read a little, and he could write his name, which he took great pride
-in doing, using a stick for a pen and a bed of sand for a copy-book.
-Walking along through the fields or woods, he would pause wherever
-the rains had washed the sand together, and write his name in full in
-letters that seemed to be wrestling with each other--"James K. Polk
-Gaither." As there was another James in his family, he was called
-Jim-Polk Gaither.
-
-His friendship was worth a great deal to Joe Maxwell, for there was
-not a bird in the woods nor a tree that he did not know the name of and
-something of its peculiarities, and he was familiar with every road and
-bypath in all the country around. He knew where the wild strawberries
-grew, and the chincapins and chestnuts, and where the muscadines, or,
-as he called them, the "bullaces," were ripest. The birds could not hide
-their nests from him, nor the wild creatures escape him. He had a tame
-buzzard that sometimes followed him about in his rambles. He set traps
-for flying squirrels, and tamed them as soon as his hands touched them.
-He handled snakes fearlessly, and his feats with them were astounding
-to the town lad until Joe discovered that the serpents were not of the
-poisonous species. In handling highland moccasins and spreading adders,
-Jim-Polk confined his feats to seizing them by their tails as they ran
-and snapping their heads off. Whenever he killed one in this way he
-always hung it on a bush or tree in order, as he said, to bring rain.
-When it failed to rain, his explanation was that as a snake never dies
-until sundown, no matter how early in the morning it may be killed, it
-had twisted and writhed until it fell from the limb or bush on which it
-was hung.
-
-Jim-Polk had many gifts and acquirements that interested Joe Maxwell.
-Once when the two lads were walking through the woods they saw a pair
-of hawks some distance away. Jim-Polk motioned to Joe to hide under
-a hawthorn bush. Then, doubling his handkerchief before his mouth, he
-began to make a curious noise--a series of smothered exclamations that
-sounded like hoo!--hoo!--hoo-hoo! He was imitating the cry of the swamp
-owl, which Joe Maxwell had never heard. The imitation must have been
-perfect, for immediately there was a great commotion in the woods.
-The smaller birds fluttered away and disappeared; but the two hawks,
-re-enforced by a third, came flying toward the noise with their feathers
-ruffled and screaming with indignation. They meant war. Jim-Polk
-continued his muffled cries, until presently the boys heard a crow
-cawing in the distance.
-
-"Now you'll see fun," said young Gaither. "Just keep right still."
-
-The crow was flying high in the air, and would have gone over but the
-muffled cry of the owl--hoo! hoo! hoo! hoo!--caught its ear and it
-paused in its flight, alighting in the top of a tall pine. Swinging
-in this airy outlook, it sent forth its hoarse signals, and in a few
-minutes the pine was black with its companions, all making a tremendous
-outcry. Some of them dropped down into the tops of the scrub-oaks. They
-could not find the owl, but they caught sight of the hawks, and sounded
-their war-cry. Such cawing, screaming, fluttering, and fighting Joe
-Maxwell had never seen before. The hawks escaped from the crows, but
-they left many of their feathers on the battle-field. One of the hawks
-did not wholly escape, for in his fright he flew out of the woods into
-the open, and there he was pounced on by a kingbird, which Jim-Polk
-called a bee martin. This little bird, not larger than his cousin,
-the catbird, lit on the hawk's back and stayed there as long as they
-remained in sight. The commotion set up by the crows had attracted the
-attention of all the birds, except the smallest, and they flew about in
-the trees, uttering notes of anger or alarm, all trying to find the owl.
-
-The incident was very interesting to Joe Maxwell. He discovered that the
-owl is the winged Ishmael of the woods, the most hated and most feared
-of all the birds. A few days afterward he went with Harbert to see the
-hogs fed, and he told the negro how all the birds seemed to hate the
-owl.
-
-"Lord! yes, sah!" said Harbert, who seemed to know all about the matter.
-"Ain't you never is hear tell er de tale 'bout de owl an' de yuther
-birds? Ole man Remus tole it ter me dis many a year ago, an' sence den I
-bin hear talk about it mo' times dan what I got fingers an' toes."
-
-Of course, Joe wanted to hear--
-
-
-THE STORY OF THE OWL.
-
-"Well, suh," said Harbert, "hit run sorter like dis: One time way back
-yander, fo' ole man Remus wuz born'd, I speck, all de birds wuz in
-cahoots; dem what fly in de air, an' dem what walk on de groun', an' dem
-what swim on de water--all un um. Dey all live in one settlement, an'
-whatsomever dey mought pick up endurin' er de day, dey'd fetch it ter
-der place wharbouts dey live at, an' put it wid de rest what de yuther
-ones bin a-ketchin' an' a-fetchin'.
-
-"Dey kep' on dis away, twel, twant long fo' dey done save up a right
-smart pile er fust one thing an' den anudder. De pile got so big dat dey
-'gun ter git skeered dat some un ud come 'long whilst dey wus away an'
-he'p derse'f. Bimeby some er de mo' 'spicious 'mong um up an' say dat
-somebody bin stealin' fum de provision what dey savin' up ginst hard
-times. Mr. Jaybird, he coyspon' wid Mr. Crow, an' Mr. Crow he coyspon'
-wid Miss Chicken Hawk, and Miss Chicken Hawk she coyspon' wid Mr. Eagle,
-which he was de big buckra er all de birds. An' den dey all coyspon' wid
-one anudder, an' dey 'low dat dey bleeze ter lef' somebody dar fer ter
-watch der winter wittles whiles dey er off a-huntin' up mo'. Dey jowered
-an' jowered a long time, twel, bimeby, Mr. Eagle, he up an' say dat
-de bes' dey kin do is to 'pint Mr. Owl fer ter keep watch. Mr. Owl he
-sorter hoot at dis, but 'tain't do no good, kaze de yuthers, dey say dat
-all Mr. Owl got ter do is ter sleep mo' endurin' er de night an' stay
-'wake endurin' er de day.
-
-"So, den," Harbert went on, pausing as if trying to remember the thread
-of the story, "dey 'pinted Mr. Owl fer ter keep watch, an' dey all flewd
-off, some one way an' some anudder. Mr. Owl, he tuck his seat, he
-did, whar he kin take in a right smart stretch er country wid his big
-eyeball, an' he sot dar right peart. But bimeby he'gun ter git lonesome.
-Dey want nobody ter talk ter, an' de sun shine so bright dat he bleeze
-ter shet his eye, an' 'fo' he know what he doin' he wuz a settin' dar
-noddin' same ez a nigger by a hick'ry fire. Every once in a while he'd
-ketch hissef an' try ter keep 'wake, but, do what he would, he can't
-keep his eye open, an' bimeby he snap his mouf like he mad an' den he
-slapped his head under his wing an' dropped off ter sleep good fashion.
-Kaze when a bird git his head under his wing hit's des de same ez gwine
-ter bed an' pullin' de kiver 'roun' yo' years.
-
-"Well, suh, dar he wuz, settin' up fast asleep. 'Long in de co'se er de
-day, Mr. Crow an' Mr. Jaybird, dey struck up wid one annuder out in de
-woods, an' dey sot down in a popular-tree fer to carry on a confab. Dey
-done bin coy-spon' wid one anudder an' dey bofe bin pullin' up corn. Mr.
-Crow'low ter Mr. Jaybird dat he ain't so mighty certain an' shore 'bout
-Mr. Owl, kaze he mighty sleepy-headed. Wid dat, Mr. Jaybird, he up an'
-say dat he got dat ve'y idee in his min'. Dey sot dar an' swop talk'bout
-Mr. Owl, twel, atter while, dey'gree ter go back fer de settlement an'
-see what Mr. Owl doin'.
-
-"Well, suh, dey went dar, an' dar dey foun' 'im. Yasser! Mr. Owl sholy
-wuz dar. He wuz settin' up on a lim' wid his head flung under his wing,
-an' 'twuz all dey kin do fer ter wake 'im up. Dey hollered at 'im des
-loud ez dey kin, an' bimeby he woke up an' tuck his head out from under
-his wing an' look at um des ez solium ez a camp-meetin' preacher.
-Dey 'buze 'im--dey quoiled--dey call 'im out'n his name--dey jowered
-at 'im--but tain't do no good. He des sot dar, he did, an' look at um,
-an' he ain't say nuthin' 'tall. Dis make Mr. Crow an' Mr. Jaybird mighty
-mad, kaze when folks quoil an' can't git nobody for ter quoil back at
-um, it make um wusser mad dan what dey wuz at fust. Dat night when de
-yuther birds come home, Mr. Crow an' Mr. Jaybird, dey had a mighty tale
-ter tell. Some b'lieved um an' some didn't b'lieve um. Miss Jenny Wren,
-an' Mr. Jack Sparrow, an' Miss Cat Bird, dey b'lieved um, an' dey went
-on so twel de yuther birds can't hear der own years, skacely. But de big
-birds, dey sorter helt off, an' say dey gwine ter give Mr. Owl anudder
-chance.
-
-"Well, suh, dey give Mr. Owl two mo' trials, let alone one, an' eve'y
-time dey lef 'im dar fer ter watch an' gyard, dey'd fin' 'm fast asleep.
-An' dat ain't all; dey skivered dat somebody done bin slippin' in an'
-totin' off der provisions.
-
-[Illustration: 0099]
-
-"Dat settle de hash fer Mr. Owl. De birds sot a day an' fotch Mr. Owl up
-fer ter stan' trial, an' dey laid down de law dat fum dat time forrud
-dat Mr. Owl shan't go wid de yuther birds, an' dat de nex' time dey
-kotch 'im out de word wuz ter be give, an' dey wuz all ter fall foul
-un 'im an' frail'm out. Den dey say dat when he sleep he got ter sleep
-wid bofe eyes wide open, a'n dey lay it down dat he got ter keep watch
-all night long, an' dat whensomever he hear any fuss he got ter holler
-out:
-
-"'Who--who--who pesterin' we all?'
-
-"Dat de way de law stan's," continued Har-bert, placing his basket of
-corn on the top rail of the fence, "an dat de way it gwine ter stan'.
-Down ter dis day, when Mr. Owl asleep, he sleep wid his eye wide open,
-an' when de yuther birds ketch him out, dey light on to 'im like folks
-puttin' out fire, an' when he ups an' hollers in de night-time, you kin
-hear 'im say:
-
-"'Who--who--who pesterin' we all?'"
-
-With a laugh, in which Joe Maxwell heartily joined, Harbert turned
-his attention to calling his hogs, and the way he did this was as
-interesting to Joe as the story had been. He had a voice of wonderful
-strength and power, as penetrating and as melodious as the notes of a
-cornet. On a still day, when there was a little moisture in the air,
-Harbert could make himself heard two miles. The range over which the
-hogs roamed was at least a mile and a half from the pen. In calling them
-the negro broke into a song. It was only the refrain that the distant
-hogs could hear, but as it went echoing over the hills and valleys it
-seemed to Joe to be the very essence of melody. The song was something
-like this:
-
-
-HOG-FEEDER S SONG.
-
-               Oh, rise up, my ladies, lissen unter me,
-
-               Gwoop! Gwoop! Gee-woop! Goo-whee!
-
-               I'm a-gwine dis night fer ter knock along er you.
-
-               Gwoop! Gwoop! Gee-woop! Goo-whoo!
-
-               Pig-goo! Pig-gee! Gee-o-whee!
-
-
-               Oh, de stars look bright des like dey gwineter fall,
-
-               En'way todes sundown you hear de killdee call:
-
-               Stee-wee! Killdee! Pig-goo! Pig-gee!
-
-               Pig! Pig! Pig-goo! Pig! Pig! Pig-gee!
-
-
-               De blue barrer squeal kaze he can't squeeze froo,
-
-               En he hump up he back, des like niggers do--
-
-               Oh, humpty-umpty blue! Pig-gee! Pig-goo!
-
-               Pig! Pig! Pig-gee! Pig! Pig! Pig-goo!
-
-
-               Oh, rise up, my ladies! Lissen unter me!
-
-               Gwoop! Gwoopee! Gee-woop! Goo-whee!
-
-               I'm a-gwine dis night a gallantin' out wid you!
-
-               Gwoop! Gwoopee! Gee-woop! Goo-hoo!
-
-               Pig-goo! Pig-gee! Gee-o-whee!
-
-
-               Ole sow got sense des ez sho's youer bo'n
-
-               'Kaze she tak'n hunch de baskit fer ter shatter out co'n--
-
-               Ma'am, you makes too free! Pig-goo! Pig-gee!
-
-               Pig! Pig! Pig-goo! Pig! Pig! Pig-gee!
-
-
-               W'en de pig git fat he better stay close,
-
-               'Kaze fat pig nice fer ter hide out en' roas'--
-
-               En he taste mighty good in de barbecue!
-
-               Oh, roas' pig, shoo! 'N-yum! dat barbecue!
-
-               Pig! Pig! Pig-gee! Pig! Pig! Pig-goo!
-
-
-               Oh, rise up, my ladies! Lissen unter me:
-
-               Gwoop! Gwoopee! Gee-woop! Goo-whee!
-
-               I'm a-gwine dis night fer ter knock aroun' wid you!
-
-               Gwoop! Gwoopee! Gee-woop! Goo-whoo!
-
-               Pig-goo! Pig-gee! Gee-o-whee!
-
-
-"Marse Joe," said Harbert, after he had counted the hogs to see that
-none were missing, "I got sumpin' at my house fer you. I'm layin' off
-fer ter fetch it dis ve'y night."
-
-"What is it?" asked Joe.
-
-"Tain't much," said Harbert. "Des some 'simmon beer an' some
-ginger-cake."
-
-"I'm very much obliged to you," said Joe.
-
-"Oh,'tain't me," said Harbert, quickly. "I was puttin' up de
-carriage-horses las' night when I hear somebody callin' me, an' I went
-ter de fence, an' dar wuz a nigger'oman wid a jug in one han' an'
-a bundle in de udder, an' she say dar wuz some 'simmon beer an' some
-ginger-cakes, an' she up an' ax me would I be so compleasant fer to give
-um ter Marse Joe Maxwell, an' I 'lowed dat I'd be so compleasant."
-
-"Who was the woman?" Joe asked.
-
-"She some kin ter Mink," answered Harbert, evasively.
-
-"Well, what kin?" asked Joe.
-
-"She ain't so mighty much kin, needer," said Harbert. "She des his wife.
-She 'low dat ef you got any washin' er darnin' dat you want done she be
-glad ter do it, an' den I say, 'Shoo nigger 'oman! G'way fum here! What
-you speck my wife here fer?'"
-
-Here Harbert tried to look indignant, but failed. Presently he
-continued: "Dat are 'simmon beer got sign in it."
-
-"What sign is that?" asked Joe.
-
-"Well, suh, when 'simmonses is ripe hit's a shore sign dat 'possum ready
-ter eat, an' tain't gwine ter be long 'fo' you hear me a-hollerin'
-'roun' thoo de woods, mo' speshually if I kin git holt er dem dogs
-what dat Gaither boy got. When it come ter 'possum an' coon dey er de
-outdoin'est dogs you ever is lay yo' eyes on."
-
-"I can get the dogs any time," said Joe.
-
-"Well, suh," said Harbert with enthusiasm, "atter to-night you can't git
-um too soon."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII--OLD ZIP COON
-
-
-Jim-Polk Gaither was very glad to go hunting with Joe Maxwell, having
-taken a strong boyish liking to the lad, and so one Saturday evening he
-came over to the Turner place with his dogs, Jolly and Loud. They were
-large, fine-looking hounds, and Joe examined them with interest. Their
-color was black and tan, and each had two little yellow spots over his
-eyes. Loud was the heavier of the two, and Jim-Polk explained that he
-had "the best nose" and the best voice, and yet he declared that in some
-respects Jolly was the best dog.
-
-Harbert had already prepared for the hunt, and he soon made his
-appearance with an axe and a bundle of fat twine to be used for torches.
-
-"Now, then," said Jim-Polk, "what kind of game do you want? Shall it
-be 'possum or coon?"
-
-"Dat's for Marse Joe to say," said Harbert,
-
-"These are mighty funny dogs," explained Jim-Polk. "If you start out wi'
-a light, they'll hunt 'possums all night long. If you go into the woods
-an' fetch a whoop or two before you strike a light, they won't notice
-no 'possum; but you better believe they'll make old Zip Coon lift hisself
-off'n the ground. So whichever you want you'll have to start out right."
-
-[Illustration: 0105]
-
-"'Possum mighty good," said Harbert, seeing Joe hesitate.
-
-"Lots of fun in runnin' a coon," said Jim-Polk.
-
-"Well," said Joe, "let's start without a light."
-
-"Dat settles it," exclaimed Harbert, with a good-humored grimace. "I
-done bin hunt wid deze dogs befo'."
-
-"You must have stole 'em out," said Jim-Polk.
-
-"No, suh," replied Harbert, "I went wid Mink."
-
-"I wish to goodness," exclaimed Jim-Polk, "that Mink was at home. Pap,
-he sides with the overseer, but when I get a little bigger I'm a-goin'
-to whirl in and give that overseer a frail-in', if it's the last act."
-
-"Now you talkin'!" said Harbert, with emphasis.
-
-It was some time before they got free of the pasture-land, and then
-they went by Mr. Snelson's, so that Joe might change his clothes for
-a rougher suit. That genial gentleman was very much interested in the
-hunt, and he finally persuaded himself to go.
-
-"I'll go," said he, "joost to pertect the lads. It's a fine mess I'm
-after gettin' into, and it's all on account of me good feelin's. They'll
-be the death of me some day, and thin a fine man'll be gone wit' nobuddy
-to take his place."
-
-Mr. Snelson was so enthusiastic that he wanted to lead the way, but
-after he had fallen over a stump and rushed headlong into a brush-heap,
-he was content to give the lead to Harbert.
-
-Jim-Polk, who was bringing up the rear with Joe Maxwell, gave the latter
-to understand that even if they didn't catch a coon, they'd have a good
-deal of fun with the genial printer.
-
-"We'll have fun with him," said Jim-Polk, "if we don't have to tote him
-home."
-
-Mr. Snelson kept up a running fire of conversation, which was only
-interrupted when he stepped into a hole or a ditch.
-
-"I've often read of chasing the raccoon," he said, "but it never
-occurred to me mind it was anything approachin' this. You're right sure
-it's the regular thing?"
-
-"You'll think so before you get back home," remarked Jim-Polk. Harbert,
-knowing what these words really meant, laughed loudly.
-
-"Well, well," said the genial printer, "if it's all a joke, I'd as well
-turn in me tracks and go home."
-
-"Oh, no!" exclaimed Jim-Polk. "Don't go home. If you think it's a joke
-when we get through with it, you may have my hat."
-
-"Dat's so," cried Harbert. "Dat's so, sho! An' ef he wuz ter git de hat,
-I speck I'd ha' ter he'p'm tote it. Yasser! Dat what I speck."
-
-The enthusiastic Mr. Snelson and Harbert were ahead, and Joe Maxwell and
-Jim-Polk brought up the rear.
-
-"I hope my dogs'll behave their selves tonight," said young Gaither.
-"You went on so about Bill Locke's nigger dogs that I want you to hear
-Jolly and Loud when they get their bristles up. But they're mighty
-quare. If Loud strikes a trail first, Jolly will begin to pout. I call
-it poutin'. He'll run along with Loud, but he won't open his mouth until
-the scent gets hot enough to make him forget himself. If it's a 'possum,
-he'll let old Loud do all the trailin' and the treein'. You'd think
-there was only one dog, but when you get to the tree you'll find Jolly
-settin' there just as natchul as life."
-
-The hunters had now come to the lands bordering on Rocky Creek, and,
-even while Jim-Polk was speaking, the voice of a dog was heard. Then it
-was twice repeated--a mellow, far-reaching, inspiring sound, that caused
-every nerve in Joe Maxwell's body to tingle.
-
-"Shucks!" exclaimed Jim-Polk, in a disgusted tone. "It's old Loud, and
-we won't hear from Jolly till the coon's track is hot enough to raise a
-blister."
-
-Again Loud opened, and again, and always with increasing spirit, and
-his voice, borne over the woods and fields on the night winds, was most
-musical.
-
-"Oh, my goodness!" cried Jim-Polk; "if I had Jolly here, I'd kill him.
-No, I wouldn't, neither!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "Just listen! he's
-a-puttin' in now!" With that he gave a yell that fairly woke the echoes
-and caused Mr. Snelson to jump.
-
-"Upon me soul!" said that worthy gentleman, "ye'll never die wit'
-consumption. In me books I've read of them that made the welkin ring,
-but I've never heard it rung before."
-
-"Shucks!" said Jim-Polk; "wait till Harbert there gets stirred up."
-
-It was true that Jolly, as Jim-Polk expressed it, had "put in." The
-scent was warm enough to cure his sulkiness. Running in harmony and
-giving mouth alternately, and sometimes together, the music the two dogs
-made was irresistibly inspiring, and when Harbert at intervals lifted up
-his voice to cheer them on even Mr. Snelson glowed with excitement and
-enthusiasm.
-
-"Now, then, Harbert," said Jim-Polk, "you can light your carriage-lamps,
-and by that time well know which way we've got to trot."
-
-The torches were soon lit, one for Jim-Polk and one for Harbert, and
-then they paused to listen to the dogs.
-
-"That coon has been caught out from home," said Jim-Polk, after a pause.
-"The dogs are between him and his hollow tree. He's makin' for that
-dreen in pap's ten-acre field. There's a pond there, and old Zip has
-gone there after a bait of frogs. Just wait till they turn his head this
-way."
-
-"Tut, tut, young man!" exclaimed Mr. Snelson, with something like a
-frown. "Ye talk like somebody readin' from a book--upon me word ye
-do--and if that was all I'd not disagree wit' ye; but ye go on and talk
-for all the world like ye had yure two blessed eyes on the coon all the
-time. Come! if ye know all that, how d'ye know it?"
-
-"Well, sir," said Jim-Polk, "the coon is three quarters of an hour ahead
-of the dogs--maybe a little more, maybe a little less. How do I know
-it? Why, because I know my dogs. They ain't on their mettle. They ain't
-runnin' at more than half speed, if that. I can tell by the way they
-open on the trail. Old Loud is takin' his time. When he gets the coon
-started home you'll hear him fairly lumber. How do I know the coon is
-goin' away from home? Shucks! My sev'n senses tell me that. We started
-out early. So did old Zip. He was at the pond huntin' for frogs when he
-heard old Louder open. If he's struck out on t'other side of the dreen
-we'll have to wait tell the dogs fetch him back to the creek. If he
-struck out on this side, he'll come right down the hollow below here.
-Let's see what the dogs say."
-
-"Deyer 'livenin' up," said Harbert.
-
-The hunters walked a few hundred yards to the verge of the slope
-that led to the bed of the creek. Suddenly the dogs were silent. Ten
-seconds--twenty; a half-minute passed, and nothing could be heard of the
-dogs.
-
-"We may as well return home," said Mr. Snelson. "The ravenous beasts
-have overtaken him, and they'll lay by till they've devoured him. Upon
-me soul, it's queer tastes they have!"
-
-"Oh, no," replied Jim-Polk. "Dogs'll eat rabbits and squirrels, but they
-never eat coons nor 'possums. You'll hear from Jolly and Loud terreckly,
-and then they'll be a-gallantin' old Zip home. Just listen!"
-
-As he spoke Loud gave mouth with a roar that filled the woods, and he
-was immediately joined by Jolly, whose quicker and more decisive voice
-chimed in as a pleasant accompaniment.
-
-"They are cornin' right this way!" exclaimed Jim-Polk, breathlessly.
-"Don't make a fuss--just be right still, so's not to skeer the coon
-across the creek. Jewhillikens! Jest listen at old Loud a-lumberin'!"
-
-And it was worth listening to. The mettle of the dog--of both dogs--was
-now fairly up, and they gave voice with a heat and vigor that could
-hardly have been improved upon if they had been in sight of the fleeing
-raccoon. They seemed to be running at full speed. They passed within
-twenty yards of where the hunters stood, snorting fiercely as they
-caught their breath to bark. As they went by, Harbert sent a wild halloo
-after them that seemed to add to their ardor.
-
-"Now, then," exclaimed Jim-Polk, "we've got to go. You take the axe,
-Harbert, and let Joe take your light."
-
-Raising his torch aloft, Jim-Polk sprang forward after the dogs, closely
-followed by Joe Maxwell and Harbert, while Mr. Snelson brought up the
-rear. The clever printer was not a woodsman, and he made his way through
-the undergrowth and among the trees with great difficulty. Once, when he
-paused for a moment to disentangle his legs from the embrace of a bamboo
-brier, he found himself left far in the rear, and he yelled lustily to
-his companions.
-
-"Mother of Moses!" he exclaimed at the top of his voice, "will ye be
-after leavin' me in the wilderness?"
-
-But for the quick ear of Harbert, he would assuredly have been left. The
-other hunters waited for him, and he came up puffing and blowing.
-
-"I could cut a cord o' wood wit' half the exertion!" he exclaimed.
-"Come, boys! let's sit down an' have an understandin'. Me legs and me
-whole body politic have begun for to cry out agin this harum-scarum
-performance. Shall we go slower, or shall ye pick me up an' carry me?"
-
-The boys were willing to compromise, but in the ardor of the chase they
-would have forgotten Mr. Snelson if that worthy gentleman had not made
-his presence known by yelling at them whenever they got too far ahead.
-The dogs ran straight down the creek for a mile at full speed. Suddenly
-Jim-Polk cried out:
-
-"They've treed!"
-
-"Yasser!" said Harbert, with a loud whoop; "dey mos' sholy is!"
-
-"Then," said Mr. Snelson, sarcastically, "the fun is all over--the jig
-is up.'Tis a thousand pities."
-
-"Not much!" exclaimed Jim-Polk. "The fun's just begun. A coon ain't
-kotch jest because he's up a tree."
-
-"Well, sir," said Mr. Snelson, with a serious air, "if they've got
-wings, upon me soul, we should have fetched a balloon."
-
-When the hounds were trailing there was a mellow cadence in their tones
-which was not to be heard when they barked at the tree. They gave mouth
-more deliberately, and in a measured way.
-
-When the hunters arrived the hounds were alternately baying and gnawing
-at the foot of the tree.
-
-"Bark to bark!" exclaimed Mr. Snelson, with much solemnity. His little
-joke was lost on all save Joe Maxwell, who was too much interested in
-the coon to laugh at it.
-
-Much to Harbert's delight, the tree was not a large one, and he made
-immediate preparations to cut it down.
-
-"Wait a minit," said Jim-Polk. "This coon ain't at home, and we'd better
-be certain of the tree he is in."
-
-"You must have been visitin' him," said the genial printer, "for how de
-ye know about his home, else?"
-
-"Some of these days," said Jim-Polk, laughing, "I'll come to your house
-an' stay to dinner, an' tell you about how coons live in holler trees."
-
-"Fetch your dinner wit' ye," responded Snelson, "and ye're more than
-welcome."
-
-Jim-Polk was too busy to make a reply. Holding the torch behind him,
-and waving it slowly, he walked around the tree. He appeared to be
-investigating his own shadow, which flickered and danced in the leaves
-and branches. Now stooping and peering, now tiptoeing and craning his
-neck, now leaning to the right and now to the left, he looked into the
-top of the tree. Finally, he exclaimed:
-
-"Here he is, Joe! Come, take a look at him."
-
-Joe tried his best to see the coon. He looked where Jim-Polk pointed,
-taking sight along his finger, but he was obliged to confess that he
-could see nothing.
-
-"Gracious alive!" cried Jim-Polk, "can't you see his eyes a-shinin' in
-the leaves there?"
-
-"Pshaw!" exclaimed Joe; "I was looking for the whole coon, and I thought
-the shiny things were stars showing between the leaves." But no stars
-ever burned as steadily as the pale-green little orbs that shone in the
-tree.
-
-"Maybe," said Mr. Snelson, after trying in vain to "shine" the coon's
-eyes--"maybe the creature has left his eyes there and escaped." But the
-others paid no attention to his jocularity.
-
-"The thing to do now, Harbert," said Jim-Polk, "is to lay that tree
-where it won't hit up agin no other tree, because if we don't we'll have
-to be a-cuttin' an' a-slashin' in here all night."
-
-"So!" exclaimed Mr. Snelson, in a tragic tone. "Well, then, I'll der-raw
-the der-rapery of me couch about me and lie down to pleasant der-reams!"
-
-"You see," said Jim-Polk, "if that tree hits agin another tree, off goes
-Mr. Zip Coon into t'other one. Coon is quicker'n lightnin' on the jump."
-
-"I'll make'er fall out dat way." Harbert indicated an open place by a
-wave of his hand.
-
-"Upon me soul!" exclaimed Mr. Snelson, "I didn't know you could make a
-tree fall up hill."
-
-"Yes, suh!" said Harbert, with pardonable pride. "I done cleaned out too
-many new groun's. I lay I kin drive a stob out dar an' put de body er
-dish yer tree right 'pon top un it. I kin dat!"
-
-With that Harbert rolled up his sleeves, displaying the billowy muscles
-of his arms, wiped the blade of the axe, spat in his hands, swung the
-axe around his head, and buried it deep in the body of the water-oak. It
-was a sweeping, downward stroke, and it was followed quickly by others
-until in a very short time the tree began to sway a little. The dogs,
-which had ceased their baying, now became restless and ran wildly about,
-but always keeping a safe distance from the tree. Mr. Snelson took his
-stand on one side and Joe Maxwell on the other, while Jim-Polk went out
-where the tree was to fall, after cautioning Harbert to keep a lookout
-for the coon. The advice to Harbert was given with good reason, for it
-is a favorite trick of the raccoon to start down the body of the tree as
-it falls and leap off while the dogs and hunters are looking for him in
-the bushy top.
-
-This coon made the same experiment. As the tree swayed forward and fell,
-he ran down the trunk. Mr. Snelson saw him, gave a squall, and rushed
-forward to grab him. At the same moment Harbert gave a yell that was
-a signal to the dogs, and the excited creatures plunged toward him.
-Whether it was Jolly or whether it was Loud, no one ever knew, but one
-of the dogs, in his excitement, ran between Mr. Snel-son's legs. That
-gentleman's heels flew in the air, and he fell on his back with a
-resounding thump. Stunned and frightened, he hardly knew what had
-happened. The last thing he saw was the coon, and he concluded that he
-had captured the animal.
-
-"Murder!" he screamed. "Run here an' take 'em off! Run here! I've
-got 'em!"
-
-Then began a terrific struggle between Mr. Snelson and a limb of the
-tree that just touched his face, and this he kept up until he was lifted
-to his feet. He made a ridiculous spectacle as he stood there glaring
-angrily around as if trying to find the man or the animal that had
-knocked him down and pummeled him. His coat was ripped and torn, and his
-pantaloons were split at both knees. He seemed to realize the figure he
-cut in the eyes of his companions.
-
-"Oh, laugh away!" he cried. "'Tis yure opportunity. The next time it
-will be at some one else ye're laughing. Upon me soul!" he went on,
-examining himself, "I'd ha' fared better in the battle of Manassus. So
-this is your coon-hunting, is it? If the Lord and the coon'll forgive
-me for me share in this night's worruk, the devil a coon will I hunt any
-more whatever."
-
-Meanwhile the coon had jumped from the tree, with the hounds close
-behind him. They had overrun him on the hill, and this gave him an
-opportunity to get back to the swamp, where the dogs could not follow
-so rapidly. Yet the coon had very little the advantage. As Jim-Polk
-expressed it, "the dogs had their teeth on edge," and they were rushing
-after him without any regard for brake or brier, lagoon or quagmire. The
-only trouble was with Mr. Snelson, who declared that he was fagged out.
-
-"Well," says Jim-Polk, "we've got to keep in hearin' of the dogs. The
-best we can do is to fix you up with a light an' let you follow along
-the best way you can. You couldn't get lost if you wanted to,'cause all
-you've got to do is to follow the creek, an' you're boun' to ketch up
-with us."
-
-So Mr. Snelson, in spite of his prediction that he would get lost in the
-wilderness, and be devoured by the wild beasts, to say nothing of being
-frightened to death by owls, was provided with a torch. Then the boys
-and Harbert made a dash in the direction of the dogs. If they thought to
-leave Mr. Snelson, they reckoned ill, for that worthy man, flourishing
-the torch over his head, managed to keep them in sight.
-
-"The dogs are not very far away," said Joe. "They ought to have gone a
-couple of miles by this time."
-
-"Old Zip is in trouble," said Jim-Polk. "He has been turnin' an'
-doublin', an' twistin', an' squirmin'. He can't shake ole Loud off, an'
-he can't git home. So what's he goin' to do?"
-
-"Climb another tree, I reckon," said Joe.
-
-"Not much!" exclaimed Jim. "He'll take to water."
-
-The dogs got no farther away, but the chase still kept up. The coon
-seemed to be going in all directions, across and around, and presently
-the dogs began to bay.
-
-"He's gone in a-washin'!" exclaimed Jim-Polk, with a yell.
-
-"Bless me soul! and how do ye know that?" exclaimed Mr. Snelson, who
-came up puffing and blowing.
-
-"Oh, I know mor'n that," said Jim-Polk. "The coon's in the water,'cause
-when the dogs bark at him it don't soun' like it did when they had their
-heads in the air; an' he's in swimmin' water,'cause, if he wan't, he'd
-a' been kilt by this time."
-
-It was as Jim-Polk said. When the hunters reached the dogs they could
-see the coon swimming around and around in the center of a small lagoon,
-while the dogs were rushing about on the banks.
-
-"I wish to goodness," exclaimed Harbert, "dat dey wuz some young dogs
-wid us, bekaze den we'd have de biggest kind er fight. Dey'd swim in dar
-atter dat coon, an' he'd fetch um a swipe er two, an' den jump on der
-heads an' duck um. Gentermens! he sholy is a big un."
-
-"You're right!" exclaimed Jim-Polk. "He's one of the old-timers. He'd
-put up a tremen-jus fight if he didn't have old Loud to tackle.--Fetch
-him out, boys!" he cried to the dogs, "fetch him out!"
-
-Long experience had taught the dogs their tactics. Jolly swam in and
-engaged the coon's attention, while Loud followed, swimming sidewise
-toward the center. Jolly swam around slowly, while Loud seemed to drift
-toward the coon, still presenting a broadside, so to speak. The coon,
-following the movements of Jolly, had paid no attention to Loud.
-Suddenly he saw the dog, and sprang at him, but it was too late. Loud
-ducked his head, and, before the coon could recover, fastened his
-powerful jaws on the creature's ribs. There was a loud squall, a fierce
-shake, and the battle was over.
-
-But before the dog could bring the coon to the bank, Mr. Snelson uttered
-a paralyzing shriek and ran for the water. Harbert tried to hold him
-back.
-
-"Ouch! loose me! loose me! I'll brain ye if ye don't loose me!"
-
-Shaking Harbert off, the printer ran to the edge of the lagoon, and
-soused his hand and arm in the water. In his excitement he had held the
-torch straight over his head, and the hot pitch from the fat pine had
-run on his hand and down his sleeve.
-
-"Look at me!" he exclaimed, as they went slowly homeward. "Just look
-at me! The poor wife'll have to doctor me body an' darn me clothes, an'
-they're all I've got to me name. If ye'll stand by me, Joe," he went on
-pathetically, "I'll do your worruk meself, but ye shall have two
-afternoons next week." And Joe Maxwell "stood by" Mr. Snelson the best
-he could.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII--SOMETHING ABOUT "SANDY-CLAUS"
-
-
-Harbert's house on the Turner place was not far from the kitchen, and
-the kitchen itself was only a few feet removed from the big house; in
-fact, there was a covered passageway between them. From the back steps
-of the kitchen two pieces of hewn timber, half buried in the soil, led
-to Harbert's steps, thus forming, as the negro called it, a wet-weather
-path, over which Mr. Turner's children could run when the rest of the
-yard had been made muddy by the fall and winter rains.
-
-Harbert's house had two rooms and two fireplaces. One of the rooms
-was set apart for him and his wife, while the other was used as a
-weaving-room. In one Harbert used to sit at night and amuse the children
-with his reminiscences and his stories; in the other Aunt Crissy used
-to weave all day and sing, keeping time with the flying shuttle and the
-dancing slays. The children might tire of their toys, their ponies, and
-everything else, but they could always find something to interest them
-in Harbert's house. There were few nights, especially during the winter,
-that did not find them seated by the negro's white hearthstone. On
-special occasions they could hardly wait to finish supper before going
-out to see him. Sometimes they found Aunt Crissy there, and as she was
-fat and good-humored--not to say jolly--she was always a welcome guest,
-so far as the children were concerned. As for Harbert, it was all one to
-him whether Aunt Crissy was present or not. To use his own sententious
-phrase, she was welcome to come or she was welcome to stay away.
-Frequently Joe Maxwell would go and sit there with them, especially when
-he was feeling lonely and homesick.
-
-One evening, in the early part of December, the children hurried through
-their supper of bread and butter and milk, and ran to Harbert's house.
-Aunt Crissy was there, and her fat face and white teeth shone in the
-firelight as she sat smiling at the youngsters.
-
-"I done got Chris'mas in my bones," she was saying, as Wattie and Willie
-entered.
-
-"Well, I ain't g wine ter say dat," said Har-bert, "kaze I'm dat ole dat
-I ain't got no roo-mance in my bones fer nothin' 'tall,'ceppin' 'tis
-de rheumatism; yit dat don't hender Chris'mas, an' I ain't makin' no
-deniance but what hit's in de a'r."
-
-"Now you er talkin'," exclaimed Aunt Crissy, with unction. "You mos'
-sholy is."
-
-There was a little pause, and then Harbert cried out:
-
-"In de name er goodness, des lissen at dat!"
-
-What was it? The wind, rising and falling, ebbing and flowing like the
-great waves of the sea, whistled under the eaves, and sighed mournfully
-over the chimney. But it was not the wind that Harbert heard. There was
-a sharp rattling on the shingles and a swift pattering at the windows.
-Harbert and Aunt Crissy looked at each other and then at the children.
-
-"What is it?" asked Wattie, drawing a little closer to Harbert.
-
-"Pshaw! I know what it is," said Willie, "it's sleet." Harbert shook his
-head gravely as he gazed in the fire.
-
-"It mought be," he said, "an' den agin it moughtn't. It mought be ole
-Sandy Claus sorter skirmishin' roun' an' feelin' his way."
-
-"Trufe, too," said Aunt Crissy, falling in with the idea. "He moughtn't
-want to skeer nobody, so he des let folks b'lieve tain't nothin' but
-sleet. Dey tells me dat ole man Sandy Claus is monstus slick."
-
-"He bleedze ter be slick," remarked Har-bert, "kaze I bin livin' yere,
-off an' on, a mighty long time, an' I ain't saw 'im yit. An' I let you
-know hit got ter be a mighty slick man dat kin dodge me all dis time. He
-got to be bofe slick an' peart."
-
-"Yasser," said Aunt Crissy, holding her apron up by the corner, and
-looking at it thoughtfully; "he slick fer true. He light 'pon top er de
-house same ez a jay-bird, an' dey ain't no scufflin' when he slide down
-de chimberly."
-
-"Dey sez," said Harbert, in a reminiscent way--"dey sez dat he rubs
-hisse'f wid goose-grease fer ter make he j'ints limber an' loose; when
-he got dis yere grease on 'im dey can't nobody ketch 'im, kaze he'd slip
-right out'n der han's."
-
-"I speck dat's so," said Aunt Crissy, "kaze one time when I wuz livin'
-wid Marse Willyum Henry an' sleepin' in de house in time er Chris'mas,
-I tuck'n he'p'd de chillun hang up der stockin's. After dey all got ter
-bed, I sot by de fier a-noddin'. How long I sot dar I'll never tell you,
-but all of a sudden I yeard a tumble racket. I gun a jump, I did, an'
-open my eyes. De outside do' wuz open, an' stannin' dar wuz one er Marse
-Willyum Henry's houn' dogs. He stood dar, he did, wid his bristles up,
-an' dar in de middle er the flo' wuz de ole cat. Her back wuz all bowed
-up, an' her tail"--here Aunt Crissy paused and looked all around the
-room as if in search of something with which to compare the old cat's
-tail--"I ain't tellin' you no lie; dat cat tail wuz bigger 'roun' dan my
-arm!"
-
-"I don't 'spute it," exclaimed Harbert, with fervor, "dat I don't."
-
-"An' dat ain't all." Aunt Crissy closed her eyes and threw her head
-back, as if to add emphasis to what she was about to say. "Dat ain't
-all--dem ar stockin's wuz done fulled up wid goodies, an' dey wuz done
-fulled up whilst I wuz a-settin' right dar." No style of type has yet
-been invented that would convey even a faint idea of the impressive tone
-in which Aunt Cissy made this startling announcement.
-
-"Ole Sandy wuz gittin' you in close quarters, mon," exclaimed Harbert.
-
-"Man, you er talkin' now," said Aunt Crissy. "I wuz settin' right spang
-at de fier-place," she went on, describing her position with appropriate
-gestures, "an' I could er des retched out my han'--so--an' totched de
-stock-in's, an' yit,'spite er dat,'long come ole Sandy Claus, whilst I
-wuz settin' dar noddin' an' fulled um up. Dat des what he done. He come,
-he did, an' fulled um up right fo' my face. Ef my eyes had er des bin
-open I'd a seed 'im, an' ef I'd a seed 'im, I'd a grabbed 'im right by
-de coat-tail. Yasser! I'd a grabbed 'im ef he'd a kyar'd me up de
-chimberly."
-
-Wattie and Willie listened open-mouthed, so intense was their interest;
-and so, it may be said, did Joe Maxwell. But now Willie spoke:
-
-"Suppose you had caught him, Aunt Crissy, what would you have done
-then?"
-
-"Shoo, honey! I'd a helt him hard an' fas': I'd a rastled wid 'im, an'
-when he'gun ter git de better un me, I'd a squalled out same ez one
-er dez yere wil' cats. I'd a squalled so loud I'd a fair 'larmed de
-settlement."
-
-Aunt Crissy paused, folded her fat arms across her broad bosom and
-looked in the fire. Harbert, with a long pair of tongs, as musical
-as those that Shakespeare wrote about, put the noses of the chunks
-together, and carefully placed a fat pine knot in the center. Then he
-leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
-
-"Well," said he, after a while, "I dunno ez I bin close to ole Sandy
-Claus as what you is, Sis Crissy, but I bin mighty close, an' 'tain't
-bin so mighty long ago needer. One night des 'fo' Chris'mas I wuz
-gwine'long thoo de woods close by de Ward place. I wuz gwine'long, I
-wuz, sorter studyin' wid myse'f 'bout whedder I ought ter hang up my
-stockin's wid de res' er de folks, when, fus news I know, look like
-I kin year de win' blowin'. Hit soun' so loud dat I stop right in my
-tracks an ax mysef what de name er goodness is de matter. I ain't feel
-no win' an' I ain't see no bush shakin', but up dar in de top er de
-trees hit look like dey wuz a reg'lar hurrycane a blowin'. Man, sir! she
-fair roared up dar, yit I ain't see no win', an' I ain't see no bush
-a shakin'. Hit make me feel so quare dat ef a hick'y-nut had a drapped
-any-whar nigh me, I'd a broke an' run fum dar like de Ole Boy wuz atter
-me. Hit make me feel so funny dat I ain't know whedder it wuz ole man
-Harbert out dar, or some yuther nigger dat done got los' in some new
-country. I stood dar, I did, en des waited fer sump'n ner ter happen,
-but bimeby de noise all quit, an' de roarin' died down, twel you could
-a yeard a pin drop. I kotch my bref, I did, an' I'low ter myself dat
-all dat racket up in de a'r dar mus' sholy a-bin ole Sandy Claus agwine
-sailin' by. Dat what I had in my min', yit I ain't stop dar fer ter make
-no inquirements. I des put out, I did, an' I went a polin' home, an' it
-make me feel mighty good when I got dar."
-
-The children visited Harbert's house every night for several nights
-before Christmas, but somehow they didn't seem to enjoy themselves.
-Harbert was so busy with one thing and another that they felt themselves
-in the way. They had the ardor and the hope of childhood, however, and
-they continued their visits with persistent regularity. They were
-very patient, comparatively speaking, and their patience was finally
-rewarded.
-
-The night before Christmas, when their interests and expectations were
-on the point of culmination, they found Harbert sitting in front of the
-fire, his head thrown back and his hands folded in his lap; and before
-the little ones could fix themselves comfortably, Aunt Crissy walked in
-and flung herself into a chair.
-
-"_Whoo-ee!_" she exclaimed. "I'm dat tired dat I can't skacely drag one
-foot 'fo' de yuther. Look like I bin on my feet mighty nigh a mont', dat
-it do, an' I'm dat stiff, I feel like some er my lim's gwine ter break
-in two. Dey ain't nothin' on dis plantation dat I ain't had my han's
-in, 'specially ef it's work. It's Crissy yere, an Crissy dar, de whole
-blessed time, an' I dun' ner what de lazy niggers'roun' yere would do ef
-Crissy wuz to take a notion ter peg out. Mistiss got old Charity in de
-kitchin' dar a-cookin' an' a-growlin', but when dey's any nice cookin'
-ter be done, Crissy got ter go an' do it. I wouldn't mind it so much,"
-Aunt Crissy went on, "ef dem yuther niggers'd do like dey tuck some
-intruss in what's gwine on, but you know yo'se'f, Brer Harbert, how
-no'count dey is."
-
-"Ah, Lord! you nee'nt ter tell me, Sis Crissy, I know um; I know um
-all. An' yit dey'll all be scrougin' one ane'r 'fo' day arter termorrow
-mornin' fer ter see which gwine ter be de fus fer ter holler Chris'mas
-gif' at marster an' mistiss. Now you watch um! dey'll all be dar, an'
-dey ain't none un um skacely yearned der salt. I'm mighty nigh run down.
-Dis mornin' de stock in de lot wuz a hollerin' fer der feed, an' it wuz
-broad daylight at dat. Den dar wuz de milkin': hit wuz atter sun-up
-'fo' dat Marthy Ann got ter de cow-pen. Dat gal blood kin ter you, Sis
-Crissy, but I done laid de law down; I done tole'er dat de nex' time
-she come creepin' out dat late, I wuz gwine to whirl in an' gi' 'er a
-frailin', an' I'm gwine to do it ef de Lord spar's me."
-
-"Nummine'bout no kinnery, Brer Harbert," said Aunt Crissy, with
-emphasis. "You des git you a brush an' wa'r dat gal out. She new han'
-wid de cows, but tooby sho' she kin git out 'fo' sun-up."
-
-"I'm mighty glad," Harbert remarked, glancing at the children, who
-were not at all interested in the "worriments" of those faithful
-negroes--"I'm mighty glad dat Chris'mas is so nigh. De corn done in de
-crib, de fodder in de barn, de cotton'n de gin-house, de hogs done kilt
-an' put up, an' ef Charity ain't might'ly behindhand de turkey done in
-de pot. Dat bein' de case, what mo' kin we ax,'ceptin' we git down yere
-on de flo' an' ax a blessin'?"
-
-"Trufe, too!" exclaimed Aunt Crissy. "I ain't quollin', but dem niggers
-is so owdacious lazy dat dey keeps me pestered."
-
-"Yasser!" continued Harbert, "de signs all look like deyer right. When I
-sets right flat down an' run it all over, hit make me feel so good dat
-I got a great mine fer ter hang up my sock right dar side er de
-chimbly-jam, an' set up yere an' watch fer ter see ole Sandy Claus come
-a-slidin' down. Ef his foot wuz ter slip, an' he wuz ter drap down on
-dat pot-rack dar, I lay he'd wake up de whole plantation. My sock ain't
-so mighty long in de leg," Harbert went on, reflectively, "but she
-mighty big in de foot, an' ef ole Sandy Claus wuz ter take a notion fer
-ter fill'er plum up, she'd lighten his wallet might'ly."
-
-"Did you ever hang up your stockings, Harbert?" asked Willie.
-
-"Why, tooby sho' honey," replied the negro, laughing. "I bin hang um up
-way back yander 'fo' you wuz born'd. An' I used ter git goodies in um,
-too. Lord! dem wuz times, sho' nuff. I used ter git goodies in um dem
-days, but now I speck I wouldn't git so much ez a piece er 'lasses
-candy. But, nummine'bout dat! I'll des take en hang um up dis night, an'
-I'll be mighty glad ef I git a slishe er cracklin' bread. Dat kinder
-bread good nuff for me,'specially when it right fresh."
-
-"Man, don't talk!" exclaimed Aunt Crissy. "Look like I kin in about
-tas'e it now!"
-
-"Aunt Crissy, are you going to hang up your stockings?" asked Wattie.
-
-"Bless yo' soul, honey! I mos' got in de notion un it. Ef 'twan't dat I'm
-a sleepin' up in old Granny Chaney house fer ter sorter keep'er comp'ny,
-I speck I would hang um up. But dey tells me dat 'twon't do no good ef
-you hang up yo' stockin's in some un else house. 'Sides dat, ole Granny
-Chaney so restless dat she'd in about skeer old Sandy Claus off ef he 'uz
-to start ter come. I'm a tellin' you de trufe, Brer Harbert, dat ole
-creetur done got so dat she don't skacely close'er eyes fer sleep de
-whole blessed night. She take so many naps endurin' 'er de day, dat when
-night come she des ez wakeful ez dat ole black cat what stay up dar at
-de barn."
-
-"Dat ole'oman gittin' ole, mon," said Har-bert. "She wuz done grown an'
-had chillun when I wuz little baby. She lots older dan what I is, an' I
-ain't no chicken myse'f. I speck ef she 'uz ter go back an' count up 'er
-Chris-'mases, she done seed mighty nigh ez many ez what ole Sandy Claus
-is."
-
-"Well," said Aunt Crissy, changing the subject, "I ain't gwine hang up
-no stockin', kaze I speck dat whatsomever ole Sandy Claus got fer me,
-he'll drap it som'rs in de big house, an' when I holler at marster an'
-mistiss in de morn-in', dey'll fetch it out."
-
-"Dat's so," said Harbert. "Yit I got a mighty good notion fer ter hang
-up mine an' take de resk. But I'd a heap ruther git sumpin' dat's too
-big fer ter go in um."
-
-"Well, we are going to hang up our stockings," said Willie. "I'm going
-to hang up both of mine, and Wattie says she's going to hang up both of
-hers."
-
-"Dat's right, honey; an' if dat ain't 'nuff' whirl in an' hang up a
-meal-sack. I done bin year tell 'fo' now 'bout folks what hang up great
-big bags stidder der stocking. Whedder dey got any mo' dan t'er folks is
-mo' dan I kin tell you."
-
-"Harbert," said Wattie, "do you reckon we'll git anything at all?"
-
-"Oh, I speck so," said the negro. "I ain't year talk er you bein' so
-mighty bad dis long time. You cuts up scan'lous sometimes, but it's kaze
-yo' buddy dar pesters you."
-
-This suggestion made Willie so angry that he threatened to go back to
-the big house and go to bed, and he would have gone but for a remark
-made by Aunt Crissy--a remark that made him forget his anger.
-
-"Dey tells me," said Aunt Crissy, in a sub-dued tone, "dat de cows know
-when Chris'mas come, an' many's de time I year my mammy say dat when
-twelve o'clock come on Chris'mas-eve night, de cows gits down on der
-knees in de lot an' stays dat-away some little time. Ef anybody else had
-er tole me dat I'd a des hooted at um, but, mammy, she say she done seed
-um do it. I ain't never seed um do it myse'f, but mammy say she seed
-um."
-
-"I bin year talk er dat myse'f," said Harbert, reverently, "an' dey
-tells me dat de cattle gits down an' prays bekaze dat's de time when de
-Lord an' Saviour wuz born'd."
-
-"Now, don't dat beat all!" exclaimed Aunt Crissy. "Ef de dumb creeturs
-kin say der pra'rs, I dunner what folks ought ter be doin'."
-
-"An' dar's de chickens," Harbert went on--"look like dey know der's
-sump'n up. Dis ve'y night I year de roosters crowin' fo' sev'n o'clock.
-I year tell dat dey crows so soon in sign dat Peter made deniance un his
-Lord an' Marster."
-
-"I speck dat's so," said Aunt Crissy.
-
-"Hit bleedze ter be so," responded the old man with the emphasis that
-comes from conviction.
-
-Then he intimated that it was time for the children to go to bed if
-they wanted to get up early the next morning to see what Sandy Claus had
-brought. This was a suggestion the youngsters could appreciate, and they
-scrambled out of the door and went racing to the big house.
-
-Before sunrise the plantation was in a stir. The negroes, rigged out in
-their Sunday clothes, were laughing, singing, wrestling, and playing.
-The mules and horses having been fed and turned in the pasture for
-a holiday, were capering about; the cows were lowing in a satisfied
-manner, the dogs were barking, the geese screaming, the turkeys
-"yelping" and gobbling, and the chickens cackling. A venerable
-billy-goat, with a patriarchal beard and the rings of many summers
-marked on his broad and crumpled horns, had marched up one of the long
-arms of the packing-screw and was now perched motionless on the very
-pinnacle of that quaint structure, making a picturesque addition to the
-landscape, as he stood outlined against the reddening eastern sky.
-
-Willie and Wattie were up so early that they had to feel for their
-stockings in the dark, and their exclamations of delight, when they
-found them well filled, aroused the rest of the household. By the time
-breakfast was over the negroes were all assembled in the yard, and
-they seemed to be as happy as the children, as their laughter and their
-antics testified. Towering above them all was Big Sam, a giant in size
-and a child in disposition. He was noted for miles around for his feats
-of strength. He could shoulder a bale of cotton weighing five hundred
-pounds, and place it on a wagon; and though he was proud of his ability
-in this direction, he was not too proud to be the leader in all
-the frolics. He was even fuller of laughter and good-humor than his
-comrades, and on this particular morning, while the negroes were waiting
-for the usual Christmas developments, Big Sam, his eyes glistening and
-his white teeth shining, struck up the melody of a plantation play-song,
-and in a few minutes the dusky crowd had arranged itself in groups,
-each and all joining in the song. No musical director ever had a more
-melodious chorus than that which followed the leadership of Big Sam. It
-was not a trained chorus, to be sure, but the melody that it gave to the
-winds of the morning was freighted with a quality indescribably touching
-and tender.
-
-In the midst of the song Mr. Turner appeared on the back piazza, and
-instantly a shout went up:
-
-"Chris'mas gif, marster! Chris'mas gif!" and then, a moment later, there
-was a cry of "Chris'mas gif, mistiss!"
-
-"Where is Harbert?" inquired Mr. Turner, waving his hand and smiling.
-
-"Here me, marster!" exclaimed Harbert, coming forward from one of the
-groups.
-
-"Why, you haven't been playing, have you?"
-
-"I bin tryin' my han', suh, an' I monst' us glad you come out, kaze I
-ain't nimble like I useter wuz. Dey got me in de middle er dat ring dar,
-an' I couldn't git out nohow."
-
-"Here are the store-room keys. Go and open the door, and I will be there
-directly."
-
-It was a lively crowd that gathered around the wide door of the
-store-room. For each of the older ones there was a stiff dram apiece,
-and for all, both old and young, there was a present of some kind. The
-presents were of a substantial character, too. Those who had made crops
-of their own found a profitable market right at their master's door.
-Some of them had made as much as two bales of cotton on the land
-they were permitted to cultivate, while others had made good crops of
-corn--all of which was bought by their master.
-
-Then the big six-mule wagon was brought into service, and into this was
-packed the horse-collars, made of shucks and wahoo-bark, the baskets,
-the foot-mats, the brooms, the walking-canes, and the axe-helves, that
-were to find a market in the town nine miles away.
-
-In spite of the war, it was a happy time, and Joe Maxwell was as happy
-as any of the rest.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX--DESERTERS AND RUNAWAYS
-
-
-All was peace on the plantation, but war has long arms, and it dropped
-its gifts of poverty and privation in many a humble home with which Joe
-Maxwell was familiar. War has its bill of fare, too, and much of it was
-not to Joe's taste. For coffee there were various substitutes: sweet
-potatoes, chipped and dried, parched meal, parched rye, parched
-okra-seeds, and sassafras tea. Joe's beverage was water sweetened with
-sorghum-sirup, and he found it a very refreshing and wholesome drink.
-Some of the dishes that were popular in the old colonial days were
-revived. There was persimmon bread; what could be more toothsome than
-that? Yet a little of it went a long way, as Mr. Wall used to say. And
-there was potato pone--sweet potatoes boiled, kneaded, cut into pones,
-and baked. And then there was callalou--a mixture of collards, poke
-salad, and turnip greens boiled for dinner and fried over for supper.
-This was the invention of Jimsy, an old negro brought over from the West
-Indies, whose real name was Zimzi, and who always ran away when anybody
-scolded him.
-
-[Illustration: 0144]
-
-The old-fashioned loom and spinning-wheel were kept going, and the women
-made their own dyes. The girls made their hats of rye and wheat straw,
-and some very pretty bonnets were made of the fibrous substance that
-grows in the vegetable known as the bonnet squash.
-
-It was agreed on all sides that times were very hard, and yet they
-seemed very pleasant and comfortable to Joe Maxwell. He had never seen
-money more plentiful. Everybody seemed to have some, and yet nobody had
-enough. It was all in Confederate bills, and they were all new and fresh
-and crisp. Joe had some of it himself, and he thought he was growing
-rich. But the more plentiful the money became, the higher went the price
-of everything.
-
-After a while Joe noticed that the older men became more serious. There
-were complaints in the newspapers of speculators and extortioners--of
-men who imposed on and mistreated the widows and wives of the soldiers.
-And then there was a law passed preventing the farmers from planting
-only so many acres of land in cotton, in order that more food might be
-raised for the army. After this came the impressment law, which gave
-the Confederate officials the right to seize private property, horses,
-mules, and provisions. And then came the conscription law.
-
-There was discontent among the men who were at home, but they were not
-left to make any serious complaints. One by one the conscript officers
-seized all except those who were exempt and hurried them off to
-the front. Those who thought it a disgrace to be conscripted either
-volunteered or hired themselves as substitutes.
-
-This is the summing up of the first three years of the war, so far as
-it affected Joe Maxwell. The impression made upon him was of slow and
-gradual growth. He only knew that trouble and confusion were abroad in
-the land. He could see afterward what a lonely and desperate period it
-must have been to those who had kinsmen in the war; but, at that
-time, all these things were as remote from him as a dream that is half
-remembered. He set up the editor's articles, criticising Governor
-Joe Brown for some attacks he had made on the Confederate Government,
-without understanding them fully; and he left Mr. Wall, the hatter, who
-was a violent secessionist, to discuss the situation with Mr. Bonner,
-the overseer, who was a Whig, and something of a Union man.
-
-Late one afternoon, after listening to a heated dispute between Mr. Wall
-and Mr. Bonner, Joe concluded that he would take a run in the fields
-with the harriers. So he called and whistled for them, but they failed
-to come. Harbert thought they had followed some of the plantation hands,
-but, as this rarely happened, Joe was of the opinion that they had gone
-hunting on their own account. They were very busy and restless little
-dogs, and it was not uncommon for them to go rabbit-hunting for
-themselves. Going toward Mr. Snelson's, Joe thought he could hear them
-running a rabbit on the farther side of the plantation. He went in that
-direction, but found, after a while, that they were running in the Jack
-Adams place, and as he went nearer they seemed to get farther away.
-Finally, when he did come up with the dogs, he found that they were not
-the harriers at all, but a lot of curs and "fices." And then--how it
-happened he was never able to explain--Joe suddenly discovered that he
-was lost.
-
-Perhaps if the idea had never occurred to him he would never have been
-lost, but the thought flashed in his mind and stayed there. He stood
-still in his tracks and looked all around, but the idea that he was
-really lost confused him. He was not frightened--he was not even uneasy.
-But he knew he was lost. Everything was strange and confusing. Even
-the sun, which was preparing to go to bed, was in the wrong place. Joe
-laughed at himself. Certainly he could return the way he came, so he
-faced about, as he thought, and started home.
-
-Walking and running he went forward rapidly, and he had need to, for the
-sun had gone behind a cloud, and the cloud, black and threatening, was
-rising and filling the sky. How long he had been going Joe did not know,
-but suddenly he found himself near an old cabin. It was built of logs,
-and the chimney, which had been made of sticks and red clay, had nearly
-fallen down. The lad knew that this cabin was neither on the Turner
-plantation nor on the Jack Adams place. He had never heard any of the
-negroes allude to it, and he realized the fact that he had been running
-away from home.
-
-Near the deserted house were the remnants of an orchard. A pear-tree,
-jagged and unshapely, grew not far from the door, while an apple-tree,
-with a part of its trunk rotted away, stood near a corner of the cabin.
-A growth of pines and scrub-oak showed that the place had been deserted
-for many a long year. A quarter of a mile away, through the gathering
-darkness, Joe could see a white fringe gleaming against the horizon. He
-knew that this was a fog, and that it rose from the river. Following
-the line of the fog, he could see that the cabin was in a bend of the
-river--the Horseshoe, as he had heard it called--and he knew that he was
-at least four miles from home. By this time the cloud had covered all
-the heavens. Away off in the woods he could hear the storm coming,
-sounding like a long-drawn sigh at first, and then falling with a
-sweeping rush and roar. Joe had no choice but to seek shelter in the old
-house. He was a stout-hearted youngster, and yet he could not resist
-the feeling of uneasiness and dread that came over him at the thought of
-spending the night in that lonely place. But there was no help for it.
-He could never find his way home in the darkness, and so he made the
-best of what seemed to him a very bad matter. The cabin was almost a
-wreck, but it served to keep off the rain.
-
-Joe went in and explored the inside as carefully as he could in the
-darkness. A wood-rat or flying-squirrel rattled along the rafters as he
-entered, and the loose puncheons of which the floor was made bumped up
-and down as he walked across them. In one corner, as he went groping
-about, he found a pile of shucks--corn-husks--and straw, and he judged
-that the old cabin had sometimes been used as a temporary barn. After
-satisfying himself that no other person or creature had taken shelter
-there, Joe tried to close the door. He found this to be a difficult
-matter. The sill of the house had settled so that the door was on the
-floor. He pushed it as far as it would go, and then groped his way back
-to the shucks and quickly made a bed of them. He was fagged out, and the
-shucks and straw made a comfortable pallet--so comfortable, indeed, that
-by the time he had made up his mind that it was a pleasant thing to lie
-there and listen to the rain rushing down on the weather-beaten roof, he
-was fast asleep.
-
-How long he slept he did not know, but suddenly he awoke to discover
-that he was not the only person who had sought shelter in the cabin. The
-rain was still falling on the roof, but he could hear some one talking
-in a low tone. He lay quite still and listened with all his ears. He
-soon discovered that the new-comers were negroes, whether two or three
-he could not tell. Presently he could distinguish what they said. The
-storm had ceased so that it no longer drowned their voices.
-
-"I tell you what, mon," said one, "ole Injun Bill kin run ef he is
-chunky."
-
-"Lor'! I had ter run ef I gwine fer keep up wid old Mink." said the
-other.
-
-"Bless you!" responded the first voice, "I kin run when I git de
-invertation, else ole Bill Locke an' his nigger dogs would a done cotch
-me long ago."
-
-"Dey ain't been atter me," said the second voice, "but I'm a spectin'
-un um eve'y day, an' when dey does--gentermen! I'm a-gwine ter scratch
-gravel! You hear what I tell you!"
-
-"I come so fas'," remarked the first voice, "dat all dem ar buckeyes
-what I had done bounce outer my pocket."
-
-"What you gwine fer do wid so many buckeyes?" asked the second voice.
-
-"Who? Me! Oh, I wuz des savin' um up fer dat ar white boy what stay 'long
-wid de printin' machine," said the first voice. "He holp me 'long one
-time. Harbert, he say dat white boy is des ez good ter niggers ez ef
-dey all b'long ter im, an' he say he got a head on 'im. Dat what Harbert
-say."
-
-"I bin see 'im," said the second voice. "I don't like white folks myse'f,
-but I speck dat boy got good in 'im. He come fum town."
-
-Joe Maxwell knew at once that one of the voices belonged to Mink, the
-runaway, and he judged that the other belonged to Injun Bill, whose
-reputation was very bad. He knew also that the two negroes were talking
-about him, and he was not only gratified at the compliments paid him,
-but felt safer than if he had been alone in the cabin. In a spirit of
-mischief he called out in a sepulchral tone of voice:
-
-"Where's Mink? I want Mink!"
-
-He tried to imitate the tone that he had heard mothers sometimes employ
-when they are trying to frighten crying children into silence with the
-bogie man. There was no reply from Mink, but Joe could hear the two
-negroes breathing hard. Then, imitating the voice of a woman, he cried
-out:
-
-"Where's Injun Bill? I want Injun Bill!"
-
-[Illustration: 0153]
-
-Imagining how horrified the negroes were, and how they looked as they
-sat on the floor quaking with terror, Joe could not restrain himself.
-He fell into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that caused him to scatter
-the shucks all over the floor. This proceeding, wholly unaccountable,
-added to the terror of the negroes. Injun Bill, as it afterward
-appeared, made a wild leap for the door, but his foot caught in a crack
-in the floor and he fell headlong. On top of him fell Mink, and each
-thought he had been caught by the thing that had frightened him. They
-had a terrific scuffle on the floor, writhing over and under each other
-in their efforts to escape. Finally, Mink, who was the more powerful of
-the two, pinned Injun Bill to the floor.
-
-"Who dis?" he cried, breathing hard with fear and excitement.
-
-"Me! Dat who 'tis!" said Injun Bill, angrily. "What you doin' 'pon top
-er me?"
-
-This complication caused Joe Maxwell to laugh until he could scarcely
-catch his breath. But at last he managed to control his voice.
-
-"What in the name of goodness are you two trying to do?"
-
-"Name er de Lord!" exclaimed Mink, "who is you, anyhow?"
-
-"Dat what I like ter know," said Injun Bill, in a surly tone.
-
-"Why, you've just been talking about me," replied Joe. "I lay there on
-the shucks and heard you give me a great name."
-
-"Is dat you, little marster?" cried Mink. "Well, suh! Ef dat don't beat
-my time! How come you sech a fur ways fum yo' surroundin's?"
-
-Joe explained as briefly as possible that he was lost.
-
-"Well, well, well!" said Mink, by way of comment. "You sholy gimme a
-turn dat time. Little mo' an' I'd a thought de ole boy had me. Ef I'd a
-bin by myse'f when I hear dat callin' I lay I'd'a to' down de whole side
-er de house. Dish yer nigger 'long wid me, little marster, he name Injun
-Bill. He say--"
-
-"'Sh--sh!" said Injun Bill, softly. Then in a whisper--"watch out!"
-
-Joe was about to say something, but suddenly he heard the sound of
-approaching footsteps. The negroes by a noiseless movement stepped close
-against the wall. Joe lay still. The new-comers entered the door without
-hesitation. They had evidently been there before.
-
-"I'll take an' put my gun in the corner here," said one. "Now, don't go
-blunderin' aroun' an' knock it over; it might go off."
-
-"All right," said the other. "Where is it? I'll put mine by it."
-
-Then they seemed to be unfastening their belts.
-
-"Hain't you got a match?" said one. "I'm as wet as a drownded rat.
-I've got some kindlin' somewheres about my cloze. My will, ef I had it
-fried," he went on, "would be to be set down in front of a great big
-fireplace adryin' myse'f, an' a knowin' all the time that a great big
-tray of hot biscuit an' 'leven pounds of butter was a waitin' for me in
-the kitchen."
-
-"Thunderation!" exclaimed the other, "don't talk that way. You make me
-so nervous I can't find the matches."
-
-"Oh, well," said the first, "I was jist a think-in' about eatin'. I wish
-Mink'ud come on ef he's a-comin'."
-
-"I done come, Mars John," said Mink.
-
-"Confound your black hide!" exclaimed the man; "if I had my gun I'd
-shoot a hole spang throo you! Whadder you want to skeer me outn a year's
-growth for? If you're here, whyn't you sesso befo' you spoke?"
-
-"Kaze I got comp'ny," said Mink.
-
-The man gave a long whistle, denoting surprise. "Who've you got?" he
-asked, almost savagely.
-
-"Injun Bill."
-
-"Who else?"
-
-"A white boy."
-
-"Well, the great snakes! What sort of game is you up to? Who is the
-white boy?"
-
-"He stay on the Turner plantation at de printin'-office," explained
-Mink.
-
-"You hear that, don't you?" said the man to his companion. "And now
-it'll all be in the paper."
-
-"Bosh!" exclaimed Joe. "I don't know you from a side of sole-leather. I
-got lost while rabbit-hunting, and came in here out of the rain."
-
-"He's a peart-talkin' chap," said the man who wanted to eat a trayful of
-hot biscuits and eleven pounds of butter.
-
-"He came fum town," said Mink, by way of explaining Joe's "peartness."
-
-"How long since?" asked one of the men.
-
-"Two years ago," said Joe.
-
-After a little, one of the men succeeded in finding a match, and making
-a light with the pine kindlings that one of the two had brought. In a
-corner Mink found some pieces of dry wood and the small company soon had
-a fire burning. The weather was not cold, but the fire must have been
-very agreeable to the white men, who, as one of them expressed it, was
-"wringin, wet." These men took advantage of the first opportunity to
-examine Joe Maxwell very closely. They had evidently expected to find a
-much more formidable-looking person than he appeared to be, for one of
-them remarked to the other:
-
-"Why, he hain't bigger'n a pound er soap arter a hard day's washin'."
-
-"Naw!" said the other. "I've saw 'im be-fo'. He's that little rooster
-that useter be runnin' roun' town gittin' in all sorts er devilment. I
-reckon he's sorter out er his element here in the country."
-
-"I've seen you, too," said Joe. "I've seen both of you. I used to see
-you drilling in the Hillsborough Rifles. I was at the depot when the
-company went off to the war."
-
-The two men looked at each other in a peculiar way, and busied
-themselves trying to dry their clothes by the fire, standing close to
-the flickering flames. They were not handsome men, and yet they were
-not ill looking. One was short and stout, with black hair. He had a
-scar under one of his eyes that did not improve his appearance. But the
-expression of his face was pleasant in spite of this defect. The other
-was thin, tall, and stoop-shouldered. His beard was scanty and red, and
-his upper teeth protruded to such an extent that when his face was in
-repose they were exposed to view. But there was a humorous twinkle in
-his eyes that found an echo in his talk. Both men were growing gray. The
-dark man was Jim Wimberly, the other John Pruitt, and both had evidently
-seen hard times. Soldier-fashion, they made seats for themselves by
-sticking the ends of loose boards through the cracks, and allowing the
-other ends to rest on the floor. Thus they could sit or lie at full
-length as they chose. Joe fixed a seat for himself in the same
-way, while Mink and Injun Bill sat on the floor on each side of the
-fireplace.
-
-"What do you call those here fellers," asked Mr. Pruitt, lighting his
-pipe with a splinter, and turning to Joe--"these here fellers what
-jines inter the army an' then comes home arter awhile without lief or
-license?"
-
-"Deserters," replied Joe, simply.
-
-"So fur, so good." said Mr. Pruitt. "Now, then, what do you call the
-fellers what jines inter the army arter they'er been told that their
-families'll be took keer of an' provided fer by the rich folks at home;
-an' then, arter they'er been in a right smart whet, they gits word
-that their wives an' children is a lookin' starvation in the face, an'
-stedder gittin' better it gets wuss, an' bimeby they breaks loose
-an' comes home? Now what sort er fellers do you call them? Hold on!"
-exclaimed Mr. Pruitt, as Joe was about to reply. "Wait! They hain't got
-no money an' no niggers; they hain't got nothin' but a little piece er
-lan'. They goes off expectin' their wives'll be took keer of, an' they
-comes home an' fines 'em in the last stages. What sorter fellers do you
-call them?"
-
-"Well," Joe replied, "I've never heard of such a thing before."
-
-"No," said Mr. Pruitt, "an' I'm mighty sorry you've heard about it now.
-It ain't a purty tale."
-
-"Who are the men?" Joe asked.
-
-"Yours, respectfully, John Pruitt an' Jeems Wimberly, Ashbank deestrict,
-Hillsborough Post-Office, State of Georgia," said Mr. Pruitt, solemnly.
-
-Joe had heard it hinted and rumored that in some cases, especially
-where they lived remote from the relief committees, the families of the
-soldiers were not so well provided for as they had a right to expect.
-He had even set up some editorials in _The Countryman_ which hinted that
-there was suffering among the soldiers' wives and children; but he
-never dreamed that it was serious enough to create discontent among the
-soldiers. The story that Mr. Pruitt and his companion told amazed Joe
-Maxwell, but it need not be repeated here in detail. It amounted
-to this, that the two soldiers had deserted because their wives and
-children were suffering for food and clothing, and now they were
-fugitives.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X--THE STORY-TELLERS
-
-
-The strange company was silent for a long time. Mr. Pruitt and Mr.
-Wimberly sat with their elbows on their knees and their faces in their
-hands, and gazed into the fireplace, while the two negroes, true to
-their nature, began to nod as the talking ceased. The silence at last
-became painful to Joe Maxwell.
-
-"Mink," he said, "suppose you should hear somebody coming, what would
-you do?"
-
-"I wuz des worryin' 'bout dat 'while ago," replied the stalwart negro,
-passing his hand swiftly across his face. "I 'speck I'd be like de ole
-sheep you hear talk about in de tale."
-
-"What was the tale?" asked Joe.
-
-"Oh,'tain't no long tale," said Mink. "One time dey wuz er ole sheep
-what had two chilluns. She call um up one day an' tell um dat dey better
-keep a sharp lookout whiles dey er eating kaze ef dey don't sumpin' n'er
-sholy gwine git um. Dey say 'Yessum,' an' dey went ter frolickin' up an'
-down de fiel'. Bimeby dey come runnin' back, an' 'low: "'Oh, mammy,
-yon's, a man! Mus' we-all run?'
-
-[Illustration: 0163]
-
-"Ole mammy sheep, she 'low: 'No! Go 'long and play.'
-
-"Atter while, dey come runnin' back an' low: 'Mammy, mammy! yon's a
-hoss! Mus' we all run?'
-
-"Ole mammy sheep 'low: ''G'way frum here! Go on an' play.'
-
-"Bimeby dey come runnin' back. 'Mammy, mammy! yon's a cow! Mus' we all
-run?'
-
-"Ole mammy sheep say: 'Go on an' play, an' quit yo' behavishness!'
-
-"Atter while dey come runnin' back. 'Mammy! oh, mammy! yon's a dog! Mus'
-we-all run?'
-
-"'Yes, yes! Run, chillun, run!'
-
-"Dat de way wid me," said Mink. "Ef I wuz ter hear some un cornin' I
-wouldn't know whedder ter set still an' nod, or whedder ter break an'
-run."
-
-"That hain't much of a tale," remarked Mr. Pruitt, "but ther's a mighty
-heap er sense in it, shore."
-
-"Shoo!" exclaimed Mink, "dat ain't no tale. You oughter hear dish
-yer Injun Bill tell um. He kin set up an' spit um out all night
-long.--Bill," said he, turning to his companion, "tell um dat un 'bout
-how de mountains come 'bout."
-
-"Oh, I can't tell de tale," said Injun Bill, marking nervously in the
-floor with a splinter. "Ef I could tell dem like my daddy, den dat 'ud
-sorter be like sumpin'. Me an' my mammy come from Norf Ca'liny. My daddy
-wuz Injun, Ef you could hear him tell dem tales, he'd make you open yo'
-eyes."
-
-"How wuz de mountains made, Bill?" asked Mink, after a pause.
-
-"I wish I could tell it like my daddy," said Bill. "He wuz Cher'kee
-Injun, an' he know all 'bout it, kaze he say de Injuns wuz here long
-time fo' de white folks wuz, let 'lone de niggers.
-
-"Well, one time dey wuz a great big flood. Hit rain so hard an' it rain
-so long dat it fair kivver de face er de yeth. Dey wuz lots mo' water
-dan what dey is in our kind er freshets, an' it got so atter while dat
-de folks had ter find some place whar dey kin stay, kaze ef dey don't
-dey all be drownded, dem an' de cree-turs, too.
-
-"Well, one day de big Injun man call dem all up, an' say dey got ter
-move. So dey tuck der cloze an' der pots an' der pans an' foller 'long
-atter de big Injun, an' de creeters dey come 'long, too. Dey march an'
-dey march, an' bimeby dey come whar dey wuz a big hole in de groun'. Dey
-march in an' de big Injun he stay behine fer stop up de hole so de water
-can't leak in. 'Twant long 'fo' dey know dey wuz in de middle er de
-worl', deep down under de groun', an' dey had plenty room. Dey built
-der fires an' cook der vittles des same ez ef dey'd a been on top er de
-groun'.
-
-"Dey stayed in dar I dunner how long, an' bimeby dey got tired er
-stayin' in dar, an' dey want ter come out. Some un um went off fer hunt
-fer de hole whar dey come in at, but dey can't fine it, an' den dey say
-dey skeered dey ain't never gwine ter git out. But de big Injun say dey
-plenty time, kaze fo' dey go out dey got ter know whedder de rain done
-stop. He say ef de smoke kin git out dey kin git out. Den dey ax 'im
-how he gwine fine out 'bout de rain, an' he say he gwine sen' some er de
-creeturs fer fine de hole whar de smoke go out, an' see 'bout de rain.
-
-"Den de big Injun he went off by hisse'f an' study an' study how he
-gwine fine de hole whar de smoke go out. He sent de dog--de dog can't
-fine it. He sent de coon--de coon can't fine it. He sent de rabbit--de
-rabbit can't fine it. Den he went off by hisse'f an' study some mo', an'
-'bout dat time de buzzud come 'long an' he ax de big Injun what make him
-look so lonesome.
-
-[Illustration: 0167]
-
-"Den de big Injun tell de buzzud 'bout 'im tryin' fer fine de hole whar
-de smoke went fru. De buzzud he 'low dat him an' his ole 'oman kin fine
-it, an' den de big Injun tuck an' sent um off.
-
-"Dey riz up, de buzzuds did, an' flewd de way de smoke went. Dey flewd
-up an' dey flewd down, an' dey flewd all 'roun' an' 'roun,' but dey
-ain't seed no hole whar de smoke go out at. Den dey come back, an' dis
-make de big Injun feel mo' lonesomer dan befo'. He study an' he study,
-un' bimeby he sent um out agin, an' tole um ter go high ez dey kin an'
-spy out de hole.
-
-"So dey riz an' flewd up agin, an' dis time dey flewd right agin de top
-er de yeth, up an' down an' 'roun' an' 'roun'. It bin rainin' so long
-dat de crust er de yeth wuz done wet plum fru, an' it wuz saft, an' when
-dey struck agin it dey made de print whar dey bin fly in'. Bimeby, de
-old man buzzud, he got mad, an' he sail 'roun' twel he git a good start,
-an' den he plow right 'long agin de roof. De ol' 'oman buzzud, she done
-de same, an' bimeby dey fine de hole whar de smoke went out. Dey peeped
-out, dey did, an' dey seed dat de rain done stop, but it monstus damp
-outside.
-
-"Den dey went back an' de big Injun feel mighty good kaze dey done fine
-de hole. After so long a time he giv de word, an' dey all marched out
-fum de inside er de yeth an' went back ter whar dey useter live. It tuck
-um a mighty long time ter fine de place, kaze when dey went away de lan'
-wuz level, but when dey come back hit wuz full er hills an' mountains
-dat look like great big bumps an' long ridges. Dey ax dey se'f how come
-dis, an' dey study an' study. Bimeby de buzzud, he up'n say dat dem wuz
-de print he lef' when him an' his ole 'oman wuz a-flyin' roun' tryin'
-fer fine de hole whar de smoke went out. De groun' wuz saft, an' eve'y
-time de buzzuds 'ud fly agin it dey'd make hills an' mountains. Dat what
-my daddy say," said Injun Bill, decisively. "He wuz Injun man, an' he
-oughter know ef anybody do."
-
-"What did I tell you?" exclaimed Mr. Wimberly, who, up to this time,
-had said nothing. "Mix Injun wi' nigger an' they hain't no kind er
-rigamarole they won't git up."
-
-They all agreed, however, that Injun Bill's story was amusing, and after
-a while Mink said:
-
-"I speck Marse John dar mought match dat tale ef he wuz ter try right
-hard."
-
-Mr. Pruitt turned his pocket inside out to get some tobacco-crumbs for
-his pipe.
-
-"Buddy," he remarked, turning to Joe Maxwell, "did you ever hear tell
-how the fox gits rid er fleas?"
-
-Joe had never heard.
-
-"Weil," said Mr. Pruitt, "it's this away. When the fox, speshually
-ef it's one er these here big reds, gits full er fleas, which they er
-bleedze ter do in hot weather, he puts out an' goes tell he finds a
-flock er sheep. Then he runs in amongst 'em, an' runs along by the side
-er one tell he gits a chance ter pull a mouffle er wool out. Then he
-makes a break fer the creek an' finds him a wash-hole an' wades in.
-
-"He don't, ez you may say, splunge in. He jest wades in, a little bit at
-a time. Fust he gits in up ter his knees, an' then he goes in deeper
-an' deeper. But he hain't in no hurry. When the water strikes the fleas,
-nachally they start fer high-water mark. The fox feels 'em crawl up, an'
-then he goes in a little deeper. When they crawl up ez high ez his back
-he goes in furder, an' then they-crawl to'rds his head. He gits a little
-deeper, an' they crawl out on his nose. Then he gits deeper, tell they
-hain't nothin' out er the water but the pint er his nose.
-
-"Now all this time he's got that chunk er wool in his mouf, an' when the
-fleas hain't got nowheres else ter go they make fer that. Then when
-the fleas is all in the wool, the fox drops it in the water, comes out,
-shakes hisse'f, an' trots off ter do some other devilment."
-
-"Dat cert'ny is one way fer ter git red er fleas," exclaimed Mink,
-laughing heartily. Then he turned to Injun Bill.
-
-"Bill, what tale is dat I been hear you tell 'bout ole Brer Rabbit an'
-de overcoat? Dat ain't no nigger tale."
-
-"Naw!" said Injun Bill, contemptuously. "Dat ain't no nigger tale. My
-daddy tell dat tale, an' he wa'nt no nigger. I wish I could tell it like
-I near him tell it."
-
-"How did it go?" asked Mr. Wimberly.
-
-"Well," said Injun Bill, rolling his eyes to-ward the rafters, "it
-sorter run dis way, nigh ez I kin reckermember: De time wuz when Mr.
-Beaver wuz de boss er all de creeturs. He wa'nt de biggest ner de
-strongest, but he wuz mighty smart. Fine cloze make fine folks in
-dem days, an' dat what Mr. Beaver had. Eve'ybody know him by his fine
-overcoat. He look slick all de week, an' he mighty perlite--he ain't
-never fergit his manners. Mr. Rabbit see all dis an' it make 'im feel
-jealous. He dunner how come Mr. Beaver kin be sech a big man, an' he
-study how he gwine make hisse'f populous wid de yuther creeturs.
-
-"One time dey all make it up dat dey wuz gwine ter have a big meetin',
-an' so dey 'gun ter fix up. De word went 'roun' an' all de creeturs make
-ready ter come. Mr. Beaver he live up in de mountains, an' it wuz lots
-mo' dan a day's journey fum his house ter de place whar de creeturs
-gwine ter hoi' der big meetin'. But he waz bleedze ter be dar, kaze he
-de head man. Ole Mr. Rabbit 'low ter hisse'f dat sumpin' got ter be done,
-an' dat mighty quick, an' so he put out fer Mr. Beaver house. Mr. Rabbit
-sho is a soon mover, mon, an' he git dar in little er no time. He say
-dey all so 'fraid Mr. Beaver ain't comin' ter de meetin' dat dey sont
-'im atter 'im, an' he help Mr. Beaver pack his kyarpet-bag, an' went on
-back wid 'im fer comp'ny.
-
-"Mr. Beaver can't git 'long ez peart ez Mr. Rabbit, kaze he so fat
-an' chunky, yit he don't lose no time; he des keep gwine fum sunup
-ter sundown. Des 'fo' dark dey come ter whar dey wuz a river, an' Mr.
-Rabbit, he 'low dey better camp out on de bank, an' git soon start in de
-mornin'. So dey built up a fier, an' cook der supper, an' 'bout de time
-dey wuz gittin' ready ter go ter bed Mr. Rabbit 'low:
-
-"'Brer Beaver, I mighty feared we gwine ter have trouble dis night!' Mr.
-Beaver say, 'How comes so, Brer Rabbit?'
-
-"Mr. Rabbit 'low: 'Dis country what we er in is called Rainin' Hot
-Embers, an' I don't like no sech name. Dat de reason I wanter stop close
-ter water.'
-
-"Mr. Beaver ax, 'What de name er goodness we gwine do, Brer Rabbit?'
-
-"Mr. Rabbit sorter scratch his head an' say, 'Oh, we des got ter put up
-wid it, an' do de bes' we kin.' Den he sorter study, an' 'low: 'I speck
-you better pull off dat fine overcoat er yourn, Brer Beaver, an' hang it
-up in de tree dar, kaze ef de wuss come ter de wuss, you sholy want ter
-save dat.'
-
-"Den Mr. Beaver tuck off his overcoat an' hang it up in de tree, an'
-atter while dey lay down fer ter take a nap. Mr. Rabbit he stay wake,
-but twa'nt long 'fo' Mr. Beaver wuz done gone ter sleep an' snorin'
-right along. He sno' so loud dat Mr. Rabbit laugh ter hisse'f, an' 'low:
-'Hey! Ole Brer Beaver pumpin' thunder fer dry wedder, but we gwine ter
-have some rain, an' it'll be a mighty hot rain, mon.'
-
-"Den Mr. Rabbit raise hisse'f on his elbow an' look at Mr. Beaver. He
-soun' asleep, an' he keep on a snorin'. Mr. Rabbit got up easy, an'
-slipped roun' an' got 'im a great big piece er bark, an' den he slip
-back ter de fier an' run de piece er bark un' de hot embers des like it
-wuz a shovel. He flung um up in de air, he did, an' holler out:
-
-"'Run fer de water, Brer Beaver! run fer de water! It's a rainin' hot
-embers! Run, Brer Beaver! run!'
-
-"De hot embers drapped on Mr. Beaver, an' he scuffled 'bout mightily.
-Time Mr. Rabbit hollered, he flung an'er shower er embers on 'im, an'
-Mr. Beaver gun one loud squall an' splunged inter de water head over
-heels. Mr. Rabbit grab de fine overcoat an' run down de bank twel he
-come ter whar dey wuz a canoe, an' he got in dat an' went cross, an' den
-he put out ter whar de creeturs gwine ter hol' der big meetin'. Des 'fo'
-he got dar, he put on de overcoat, an' he ain't do it none too soon,
-nudder, kaze some un um had done got so unpatient 'long er waitin' fer
-Mr. Beaver dat dey went out on de road a little fer ter meet 'im.
-
-"De overcoat wuz lots too big fer Mr. Rabbit, but it bin sech a long
-time sence de creeturs had seed Mr. Beaver dat it look all right ter
-dem, an' so dey gallanted Mr. Rabbit ter de meetin'-place same like he
-wuz big man ez Mr. Beaver. Dey tuck 'im dar an' gallanted 'im up on de
-flatform, an' sot 'im down in de big cheer, an' made 'im de boss er de
-meetin'. Mr. Rabbit 'gun ter speak an' tell um he mighty much 'blige fer
-all deze favers, an' 'bout dat time Mr. Fox 'low:
-
-"'Hey! Mr. Beaver done los' his voice!'"
-
-[Illustration: 0175]
-
-"Mr. Rabbit say he can't have no talkin', an' he kep on wid his speech.
-Bimeby Mr. Wolf say: 'Hey! Mr. Beaver bin sick, kaze his cloze ain't
-fit 'im.' Mr. Rabbit say he bleeze ter have order in de 'sembly, an' he go
-on wid his speech. 'Twan't long 'fo' Mr. Fox jump an' holler out:
-
-"'Hey! Mr. Beaver done bought 'im some new years!'
-
-"Mr. Rabbit cock up one eye, an' see dat bofe er his long years done
-come out fum un' de overcoat, an' den he know dat he better be gwine. He
-make er break, he did, an' bounced off'n de flatform, an' start fer de
-bushes, but some er de yuther creeturs head 'im off an' kotched 'im, an'
-den dey tuck 'im an' tried 'im, an' de jedge what sot on 'im say he mus'
-have mark on 'im so he can't fool um no mo'. Den dey tuck er sharp flint
-rock an' split his upper lip, an' dat how de rabbits is got der lip
-split."
-
-"Shoo!" said Mink. "Dat Injun rabbit. Nigger rabbit would 'a' fooled dem
-creeturs right straight along, an' he wouldn't 'a' bin cotch, nudder."
-
-"Jim," said Mr. Pruitt to Mr. Wimberly, "would it strain you too much
-ter whirl in an' tell us a tale? We wanter show this young un here that
-country folks hain't ez no 'count ez they look ter be."
-
-"Jesso!" exclaimed Mr. Wimberly, with much animation. "I wuz jest
-a-thinkin' about one that popped in my min'. It ain't much of a tale,
-but it tickled me might'ly when I fust heard it, an' I hain't never
-fergot it."
-
-"Well," said Mr. Pruitt, "out wi' it. It ain't nigh bedtime, an' ef it
-wuz we hain't got no beds ter go ter--that is, we hain't got none ter
-speak of."
-
-"One time," Mr. Wimberly began, smacking his lips, "there wuz a man what
-took the idee that he had done gone an' larnt ever' blessid thing under
-the sun that thar' wuz ter larn, and it worried him might'ly. He took
-the idee wi' 'im ever 'whar he went. Folks called 'im Ole Man Know-all.
-He sarched in ever' hole an' cornder arter sump'n that he didn't know,
-but, hunt whar he would an' when he might, he couldn't fin' it. It
-looked like he know'd ever'-thing ther' wuz an' had been. Nobody
-couldn't tell 'im nothin' that he didn't know, an' it made 'im feel
-mighty lonesome. He studied an' studied, an' at last he said ter
-hisse'f, sezee, that ef thar' wan't nothin' more fer 'im ter larn, he
-jest might ez well lay down an' die. He said ter hisse'f, sezee, that
-may be Grandsir Death could larn 'im sumpin. Jesso!
-
-"Well, he went home one night an' built 'im up a big fire an' fixed his
-pallet an' lay down. 'I won't lock the door,' sezee; 'I'll jist leave
-it onlatched so Grandsir Death can come in, an' maybe he can larn me
-sump'n.' Jesso!
-
-"Ole Man Know-all lay thar on the pallet an' waited. He'd doze a little
-an' then he'd wake up, an' he rolled an' tossed about tell purty nigh
-day. He wan't oneasy, so to speak, but he wuz mighty restless. To'rds
-mornin' he heard some un knock on his door--bam-bam! bam-bam! He wan't
-skeered, but he got right weak. His mouth got dry, an' a big holler
-place come in his stomach. He sez ter hisse'f, sezee, 'Shorely that's
-Grandsir Death at the door.' Then he kivvered up his head an' shuck all
-over. 'Twan't long 'fo' the knock come agin:
-
-"Bim-bim! bim-bim! bim!
-
-"Ole Man Know-all thought his time wuz done come, certain an' shore, an'
-so he hollered:
-
-"'Come in!'
-
-"The door opened, but stedder it's bein' Grandsir Death it wuz a little
-nigger boy. Ole Man Know-all sez, sezee:
-
-"'What you want this time er night?'
-
-"The little nigger boy sez, sezee, 'Mammy sent me arter some fier.'
-
-"Old Man Know-all told 'im ter come in an' git it. The little nigger boy
-went in an' started ter the fireplace.
-
-"'They ain't no chunks thar,' sez Ole Man Know-all. 'Go git a shovel.'
-
-"'Don't want no shovel,' sez the little nigger.
-
-"' How you gwine ter take it?' sez Old Man Know-all.
-
-"'Easy enough,' sez the little nigger.
-
-"Ole Man Know-all turned over an' watched 'im. He went ter the h'ath,
-filled the palm er one hand full er dead ashes, made a little nest in
-the middle, an' then picked up a fire-coal this way."
-
-Suiting the action to the word, Mr. Wimberly picked up a glowing coal of
-fire, dropped it in the palm of his hand, whirled it around rapidly,
-and then neatly transferred it to the bowl of his pipe, where it lay
-glowing.
-
-"The little nigger picked up the coal that way," Mr. Wimberly continued,
-"an' then he started out. Ole Man Know-all hollered at 'im.
-
-"'Hol' on!' sezee; 'how you gwine ter kindle a fire from jest one coal?'
-
-"'Easy enough,' sez the little nigger.
-
-"Ole Man Know-all jumped up an' follered 'im, an' when the little nigger
-come ter his mammy's house he got two fat pine splinters, picked up the
-coal er fire wi' 'em jest ez ef they'd 'a' been tongs, whirled it once-t
-er twice-t aroun' his head, an' thar wuz the blaze.
-
-"'Well,' sez Ole Man Know-all, 'I'm mighty glad Grandsir Death gimme the
-go-by last night,'cause I've larnt sump'n new. An' I reckon, ef I keep
-my eyes open, I can larn lots more.' Jesso!"
-
-"I've saw folks that thought they know'd it all," said Mr. Pruitt, "an'
-it most inginer'lly happens that all what they know wouldn't make the
-linin' fer a bug's nest."
-
-There was some further talk, in which Joe Maxwell joined, or thought he
-did, and then the cabin and all its occupants seemed to fade before his
-eyes. He seemed, as in a dream, to hear Mr. Pruitt say that he wished to
-the Lord that his little boy was as healthy and as well fed as the boy
-from town, and Joe thought he heard the deserter telling his companions
-of the desperate condition in which he found his wife and two little
-children, who were living in a house remote from any settlement. The
-lad, much interested in this recital, opened his eyes to ask Mr. Pruitt
-some of the particulars, and, lo! it was morning. The fire was out, and
-the deserters and negroes had disappeared. In the east the sky
-glowed with the promise of the sun, the birds were singing in the old
-apple-trees, and the cows were lowing. In the distance Joe could hear
-the plow-hands singing as they rode to their tasks, and, when the sound
-of their song had died away, he thought he could hear, ever so faintly,
-the voice of Harbert calling his hogs.
-
-Mink had told Joe where he was, and how to get home, and he had no
-difficulty in finding his way.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI--THE RELIEF COMMITTEE
-
-
-Joe Maxwell was very tired the day after his experience in the cabin
-with the deserters and the runaways, but he was not too tired to
-joyfully accept an invitation to visit Hillsborough with the editor of
-_The Countryman_. For months the town had been practically in a state of
-siege. As the war progressed, it had been made a hospital station. The
-old temperance hall and many of the other buildings in the town had been
-fitted up for the accommodation of the sick and wounded. There were also
-many refugees in Hillsborough from Tennessee and north Georgia. While
-the town was crowded, the small-pox broke out, and for a month or more
-the country people were prevented from going there. Guards were placed
-on all the roads leading into the town; but this was not necessary, for
-the country people were not anxious to visit the place when they learned
-of the small-pox. Hillsborough was placed under martial law, and a
-provost-marshal given charge of affairs. This was necessary, not only to
-control the small-pox, but to control the convalescing soldiers, among
-whom were some very rough characters.
-
-Joe had stayed away so long that the town seemed to be new to him. The
-playground in front of the old school-house was full of dingy hospital
-huts; the stores with which he had been familiar had been put to new
-and strange uses; and there were strange faces everywhere. Squads of
-soldiers were marching briskly here and there; men with crutches at
-their sides, or bandages on their heads, or with their arms in slings,
-were sunning themselves on every corner. Everything was strange. Even
-the old china-trees under which Joe had played hundreds of times had an
-unfamiliar look. Dazed and confused, the lad sat down on one of the long
-benches that were placed along the wall in front of some of the stores.
-The bench was tilted back against the wall, and one end of it was
-occupied by two men who were engaged in earnest conversation. Joe paid
-little attention to them at first, but a word or two that he heard
-caused him to observe them more closely. One of them was Mr. Deometari,
-the Greek exile and lawyer; the other was a man whom Joe did not know.
-He noticed that, although Mr. Deometari wore a faded and shabby uniform,
-his linen was spotless. His cuffs and shirt-bosom shone in the sun, and
-the setting of a heavy ring on his chubby finger sparkled like a star.
-"He has forgotten me," Joe thought, and he sat there determined not to
-make himself known, although he and Mr. Deometari had been great friends
-before the lad left Hillsborough.
-
-"There's another thing I'm troubled about," Joe heard Mr. Deometari say
-to his companion. "Pruitt has come home."
-
-"What's the matter with him?" asked the other.
-
-"Deserted!" exclaimed Mr. Deometari.
-
-"Well," said the other, "it's a big risk for a grown man to take. If
-he's caught, he'll have to pay the penalty."
-
-"No!" exclaimed Mr. Deometari, bringing his fist down on his broad knee.
-"He'll be caught, but he won't pay the penalty."
-
-"Why, what do you mean, Deo?" asked his companion.
-
-"Don't you know him?" exclaimed Mr. Deometari. "He belongs to the Relief
-Committee!"
-
-"Phew!" whistled the other, raising both his hands in the air, and
-letting them fall again.
-
-"Don't you know him?" Deometari went on, with increasing earnestness.
-"He's the man that shot the otter."
-
-Again Mr. Deometari's companion gave a long whistle of astonishment.
-"Jack Pruitt?" he asked.
-
-"The identical man," said Deometari. "And do you know who this
-provost-marshal here is--this Captain Johnson?"
-
-[Illustration: 0187]
-
-"Oh, yes," said the other; "he's the chap that stole the last dust of
-meal we had been saving to make soup for poor Tom Henderson."
-
-"And what happened then?" inquired Mr. Deometari, as if trying to
-refresh his own memory instead of that of his companion. "Didn't Jack
-Pruitt give him a whipping?"
-
-"Why, bless my life!" exclaimed the other. "What am I thinking about?
-Why, of course he did!" Saying this, Mr. Deometari's companion rose to
-his feet, and caught sight of Joe Maxwell as he did so. Instantly he
-laid his hand on Mr. Deometari's shoulder and remarked:
-
-"It is fine weather for birds and boys."
-
-Joe was not at all disconcerted. He was not eavesdropping, though he
-was very much interested in what he had heard. The way to interest a boy
-thoroughly is to puzzle him, and Joe was puzzled.
-
-"I saw Mr. Pruitt last night," he remarked, and then, as his old friend
-turned, he said:
-
-"How do you do, Mr. Deo? You haven't forgotten me, have you?"
-
-Joe advanced and offered his hand. As Mr. Deometari took it, the frown
-cleared away from his face.
-
-"Why, my dear boy!" he exclaimed, pulling the lad toward him and giving
-him a tremendous hugging, "I am delighted to see you! I could count on
-my ten fingers the people who are left to call me Deo. And if I counted,
-my boy, you may be sure I'd call your name long before I got to my
-little finger. Why, I'm proud of you, my boy! They tell me you write the
-little paragraphs in the paper credited to 'The Countryman's Devil'?
-Not all of them! Ah, well! it is honor enough if you only write some of
-them. Forget you, indeed!"
-
-Mr. Deometari's greeting was not only cordial but affectionate, and the
-sincerity that shone in his face and echoed in his words brought tears
-to Joe Maxwell's eyes.
-
-"Blandford," said Mr. Deometari, "you ought to know this boy. Don't you
-remember Joe Maxwell?"
-
-"Why, yes!" said Mr. Blandford, showing his white teeth and fixing his
-big black eyes on Joe. "He used to fight shy of me, but I remember him
-very well. He used to stand at the back of my chair and give me luck
-when I played draughts."
-
-Mr. Blandford had changed greatly since Joe had seen him last. His black
-hair, which once fell over his shoulders in glossy curls, was now gray,
-and the curls were shorn away. The shoulders that were once straight and
-stalwart were slightly stooped. Of the gay and gallant young man whom
-Joe Maxwell had known as Archie Blandford nothing remained unchanged
-except his brilliant eyes and his white teeth. Mr. Blandford had, in
-fact, seen hard service. He had been desperately shot in one of the
-battles, and had lain for months in a Richmond hospital. He was now, as
-he said, just beginning to feel his oats again.
-
-"Come!" said Mr. Deometari, "we must go to my room. It is the same old
-room, in the same old tavern," he remarked.
-
-When the two men and Joe Maxwell reached the room, which was one of
-the series opening on the long veranda of the old tavern, Mr. Deometari
-carefully closed the door, although the weather was pleasant enough--it
-was the early fall of 1864.
-
-"Now, then," said he, drawing his chair in front of Joe, and placing
-his hands on his knees, "I heard you mention a name out yonder when you
-first spoke to me. What was it?"
-
-"Pruitt," said Joe.
-
-"Precisely so," said Mr. Deometari, smiling in a satisfied way. "John
-Pruitt. Now, what did you say about John Pruitt?"
-
-"Late of said county, deceased," dryly remarked Mr. Blandford, quoting
-from the form of a legal advertisement.
-
-"I said I saw him last night," said Joe, and then he went on to explain
-the circumstances.
-
-"Very good! and now what did you hear me say about Pruitt?"
-
-"You said he would be caught and not punished because he belonged to the
-Relief Committee."
-
-"Hear that!" exclaimed Mr. Deometari. "If any but these friendly ears
-had heard all that, we'd have been put on Johnson's black list, and
-maybe we'd have been transferred from the black list to the guard-house.
-Now, then," continued Mr. Deometari, "you don't know anything about the
-Relief Committee, of course, and as you might be inquiring around about
-it, and asking what John Pruitt, the deserter, has to do with the Relief
-Committee, I'll tell you. But, my dear boy, you must remember this: It's
-not a matter to be joked about or talked of anywhere outside of this
-room. Now, don't forget. It isn't much of a secret; it is simply a piece
-of business that concerns only a few people. Do you remember reading or
-hearing about the retreat from Laurel Hill?" asked Mr. Deometari, moving
-his chair back and unwinding the stem of his Turkish pipe. "That was
-in the early part of the war, and it will never cut much of a figure in
-history, but some of those who were in that retreat will never forget
-it. In the confusion of getting away a little squad of us, belonging
-mostly to the First Georgia Regiment, were cut off from the main body.
-When we halted to get our bearings there were not more than a dozen of
-us."
-
-"Seventeen, all told," remarked Mr. Blandford.
-
-"Yes," said Mr. Deometari, "seventeen. We were worse than lost. We
-were on the mountains in a strange country. Behind us was the enemy and
-before us was a forest of laurel that stretched away as far as the eye
-could reach. To the right or to the left was the same uncertainty. We
-could hear nothing of the rest of the command. To fire a gun was to
-invite capture, and there was nothing for us to do but push ahead
-through the scrubby growth."
-
-"The commissary was absent on a furlough," remarked Mr. Blandford.
-
-"Yes," said Mr. Deometari, laughing. "The commissary was missing, and
-rations were scanty. Some of the men had none at all. Some had a little
-hard-tack, and others had a handful or so of meal. Though the weather
-was bitter cold, we built no fire the first night, for fear of
-attracting the attention of the enemy. The next day and the next we
-struggled on. We saved our rations the best we could, but they gave out
-after a while, and there was nothing left but a little meal which John
-Pruitt was saving up for Tom Henderson, who was ill and weak with fever.
-Every day, when we'd stop to breathe awhile, Pruitt would make Henderson
-a little cupful of gruel, while the rest of us ate corn, or roots, or
-chewed the inside bark of the trees.''
-
-"And nobody begrudged Tom his gruel," said Mr. Blandford, "though I'll
-swear the sight of it gave me the all-overs."
-
-"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Mr. Deometari. "Somebody did begrudge Tom the
-gruel. One night this Captain Johnson, who is lording it around here
-now, thought Pruitt and the rest of us were asleep, and he made an
-effort to steal the little meal that was left. Well, Pruitt was very
-wide awake, and he caught Johnson and gave him a tremendous flogging;
-but the villain had already got into the haversack, and in the struggle
-the meal was spilled."
-
-Mr. Deometari coiled the stem of his pipe around his neck, and blew a
-great cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.
-
-"But what about the Relief Committee, Mr. Deo?" inquired Joe.
-
-"Why, to be sure! A nice story-teller am I!" exclaimed Mr. Deometari.
-"I had forgotten the Relief Committee entirely. Well, we went forward,
-growing weaker and weaker every day, until finally we came to a ravine."
-
-"It was a gorge," observed Mr. Blandford, stretching himself out on Mr.
-Deometari's bed, "and a deep one too."
-
-"Yes, a gorge," said Mr. Deometari. "When we reached that gorge we were
-in a famished condition. Not a bird could be seen except crows and
-buzzards. The crows would have made good eating, no doubt, but they were
-very shy. We had lived in the hope of finding a hog, or a sheep, or a
-cow, but not a sign of a four-footed creature did we see. I don't know
-how it was, but that gorge seemed to stretch across our path like the
-Gulf of Despair. Some of the men dropped on the ground and declared that
-they would go no farther.
-
-[Illustration: 0194]
-
-"They said they had no desire to live; they were as weak and as foolish
-as children. Of the seventeen men in the squad, there were but five
-who had any hope, any spunk, or any spirit--Blandford there, Pruitt,
-Henderson, this Captain Johnson, and myself."
-
-"You ought to put yourself first," said Mr. Blandford. "You were as fat
-as a pig all the time, and as full of life as a grasshopper in July."
-
-"This ravine or gorge," continued Mr. Deometari, paying no attention to
-the interruption, "was our salvation. Mr. Blandford and Pruitt explored
-it for a little distance, and they found a little stream of water
-running at the bottom. It was what you call a branch. When they came
-back there was considerable disagreement among the men. The poor
-creatures, weak and irritable from hunger, had lost all hope, and would
-listen to no argument that didn't suit their whims. There was this
-question to settle: Should we cross the gorge and continue in the course
-we had been going, or should we' follow the gorge? It was a very serious
-question. We had not the slightest idea where we were. We had been
-wandering about in the mountains for eight days, and if we were going to
-get out at all it was necessary to be in a hurry about it.
-
-"Then there was another question. If the gorge was to be followed, which
-way should we go? Should we follow the running water or should we go
-the other way? Blandford and Pruitt had already made up their minds to
-follow the running water, and of course I was going with them."
-
-"That's because it was down hill," remarked Mr. Blandford, laughing.
-"Deo always said his legs were never made for going up hill."
-
-"We had a great discussion. My dear boy, if you want to see how peevish
-and ill-natured and idiotic a grown man can be, just starve him for a
-matter of eight or nine days. Some wanted to go one way and some wanted
-to go another, while others wanted to stay where they were. Actually,
-Blandford and I had to cut hickories and pretend that we were going to
-flog the men who wanted to stay there and die, and when we got them
-on their feet we had to drive them along like a drove of sheep, while
-Pruitt led the way.
-
-"Pruitt's idea was that the running water led somewhere. This may seem
-to be a very simple matter now, but in our weak and confused condition
-it was a very fortunate thing that he had the idea and stuck to it. We
-found out afterward that if we had continued on the course we had been
-going, or if we had followed the gorge in the other direction, we would
-have buried ourselves in a wilderness more than a hundred miles in
-extent.
-
-"The next day a couple of hawks and two jay-birds were shot, and, though
-they made small rations for seventeen men, yet they were refreshing, and
-the very sight of them made us feel better. The walls of the gorge grew
-wider apart, and the branch became larger as we followed it. The third
-day after we had changed our course Pruitt, who was ahead, suddenly
-paused and lifted his hand. Some of the men were so weak that they
-swayed from side to side as they halted. The sight of them was pitiful.
-We soon saw what had attracted Pruitt's attention. On the rocks, above a
-pool of water, an otter lay sunning himself. He was as fat as butter. We
-stood speechless a moment and then sank to the ground. There was no
-fear that the otter could hear our voices, for the branch, which had now
-grown into a creek, fell noisily into the pool. If he had heard us--if
-he had slipped off the rocks and disappeared--" Mr. Deometari paused and
-looked into his pipe.
-
-"Great heavens, Deo!" exclaimed Mr. Blandford, jumping up from the bed.
-"I'll never forget that as long as I live! I never had such feelings
-before, and I've never had such since."
-
-"Yes," continued Mr. Deometari, "it was an awful moment. Each man knew
-that we must have the otter, but how could we get him? He must be shot,
-but who could shoot him? Who would have nerve enough to put the ball in
-the right spot? The man who held the gun would know how much depended on
-him; he would be too excited to shoot straight. I looked at the men, and
-most of them were trembling. Those who were not trembling were as white
-as a sheet with excitement. I looked at Pruitt, and he was standing up,
-watching the otter, and whistling a little jig under his breath. So I
-said to him, as quietly as I could:
-
-"'Take your gun, man, and give it to him. You can't miss. He's as big as
-a barn-door.'
-
-"Pruitt dropped on one knee, put a fresh cap on his gun, shook his hand
-loose from his sleeve, leveled his piece, and said, 'Pray for it, boys!'
-
-[Illustration: 0200]
-
-"Then he fired. He was so weak that the gun kicked him over. When I
-looked at the otter it seemed that the creature had never moved, but
-presently I saw a leg quivering, and then we rushed forward as fast as
-we could, the happiest lot of men you ever saw on this earth. The otter
-was shot through the head. The men were so ravenous they acted like
-maniacs. It was all that Blandford and Pruitt and I could do to keep
-them from falling on the otter with their knives and eating it raw, hide
-and all.
-
-"But it saved us," Mr. Deometari went on, "and we had something to
-spare. The next day we met with a farmer hunting his stray sheep, and we
-soon got back to the army. Four of us formed the Relief Committee before
-we parted. Blandford, Pruitt, Tom Henderson, and myself--the men who
-had never lost hope--promised each other, and shook hands on it, that
-whenever one got in trouble the others would help him out without any
-questions.
-
-"Now, it isn't necessary to ask any questions about Pruitt He deserted
-because his family were in a starving condition."
-
-"Yes," said Mr. Blandford, bringing his heavy jaws together with a snap,
-"and I believe in my soul that Johnson has kept food and clothes away
-from them!"
-
-"I know he has," said Mr. Deometari, calmly. "Tom Henderson is one
-of Johnson's clerks, and he keeps the run of things. He is to meet us
-to-night, and then you'll see a man who has been blazing mad for three
-months.--Now, my boy," continued Mr. Deometari, "forget all about this.
-You are too young to be troubled with such things. We're just watching
-to see how Captain Johnson proposes to pay off the score he owes Pruitt.
-Should you chance to see John, just tell him that the Relief Committee
-has taken charge of Hillsborough for a few weeks. Another thing," said
-Mr. Deometari, laying his hand kindly on the boy's shoulder, "if you
-should be sent for some day or some night, just drop everything and
-come with the messenger. A bright chap like you is never too small to do
-good."
-
-The two men shook hands with Joe, and Mr. Blandford gravely took off his
-hat when he bade the boy good-by.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII--A GEORGIA FOX-HUNT
-
-
-For a few days Joe Maxwell forgot all about Mr. Deometari, Mr.
-Blandford, and Mr. Pruitt. There was distinguished company visiting
-the editor of The Countryman--a young lady from Virginia, Miss Nellie
-Carter, and her mother, and some young officers at home on furlough. One
-of these young officers, a kinsman of the editor, brought his pack
-of fox-hounds, and arrangements were made for a grand fox-hunt. The
-plantation seemed to arouse itself to please the visitors. The negroes
-around the house put on their Sunday clothes and went hurrying about
-their duties, as if to show themselves at their best.
-
-Joe was very glad when the editor told him that he was to go with the
-fox-hunters and act as master of ceremonies. Fox-hunting was a sport
-of which he was very fond, for it seemed to combine all the elements
-of health and pleasure in outdoor life. Shortly after Joe went to the
-plantation the editor of _The Countryman_ had brought from Hillsborough
-a hound puppy, which had been sent him by a Mr. Birdsong. This Mr.
-Birdsong was a celebrated breeder of fox-hounds, having at one time the
-only pack south of Virginia that could catch a red fox. He was a great
-admirer of the editor of _The Countryman_, and he sent him the dog as
-a gift. In his letter Mr. Birdsong wrote that the puppy had been raised
-under a gourd-vine, and so the editor called him Jonah. Joe Maxwell
-thought the name was a very good one, but it turned out that the dog was
-very much better than his name. The editor gave the dog to Joe, who
-took great pains in training him. Before Jonah was six months old he had
-learned to trail a fox-skin, and by the time he was a year old hardly a
-morning passed that Joe did not drag the skin for the pleasure of seeing
-Jonah trail it. He developed great speed and powers of scent, and he was
-not more than two years old before he had run down and caught a red fox,
-unaided and alone. Naturally, Joe was very proud of Jonah, and he was
-glad of an opportunity to show off the dog's hunting qualities.
-
-In training Jonah, Joe had also unwittingly trained an old fox that
-made his home on the plantation. The fox came to be well known to
-every hunter in the county. He was old, and tough, and sly. He had been
-pursued so often that if he heard a dog bark in the early morning hours,
-or a horn blow, he was up and away. The negroes called him "Old Sandy,"
-and this was the name he came to be known by. Jonah when a puppy had
-trailed Old Sandy many a time, and Joe knew all his tricks and turnings.
-He decided that it would be well to give the young officer's pack some
-exercise with this cunning old fox.
-
-All the arrangements for the hunt were made by the editor. Joe Maxwell
-was to escort Miss Nellie Carter, who, although a Virginian and a good
-horsewoman, had never ridden across the country after a fox. The lad was
-to manage so that Miss Carter should see at least as much of the hunt
-as the young men who were to follow the hounds, while Harbert was to
-go along to pull down and put up the fences. To Joe this was a new and
-comical feature of fox-hunting, but the editor said that this would be
-safer for Miss Carter.
-
-When the morning of the hunt arrived, Joe was ready before any of the
-guests, as he had intended to be. He wanted to see to everything, much
-to Harbert's amusement. Like all boys, he was excited and enthusiastic,
-and he was very anxious to see the hunt go off successfully. Finally,
-when all had had a cup of coffee, they mounted their horses and were
-ready to go.
-
-"Now, then," said Joe, feeling a little awkward and embarrassed, as he
-knew that Miss Nellie Carter was looking and listening, "there must be
-no horn-blowing until after the hunt is over. Of course, you can blow
-if you want to," Joe went on, thinking he had heard one of the young men
-laugh, "but we won't have much of a hunt. We are going after Old Sandy
-this morning, and he doesn't like to hear a horn at all. If we can keep
-the dogs from barking until we get to the field, so much the better."
-
-"You must pay attention," said Miss Carter, as some of the young men
-were beginning to make sarcastic suggestions. "I want to see a real
-fox-hunt, and I'm sure it will be better to follow Mr. Maxwell's
-advice."
-
-Joe blushed to here his name pronounced so sweetly, but in the dim
-twilight of morning his embarrassment could not be seen.
-
-"Are your dogs all here, sir?" he asked the young man who had brought
-his hounds. "I have counted seven, and mine makes eight."
-
-"Is yours a rabbit-dog?" the young man asked.
-
-"Oh, he's very good for rabbits," replied Joe, irritated by the
-question.
-
-"Then hadn't we better leave him?" the young man asked, not unkindly,
-"He might give us a good deal of trouble."
-
-"I'll answer for that," said Joe. "If everybody is ready, we'll go."
-
-"You are to be my escort, Mr. Maxwell," said Miss Carter, taking her
-place by Joe's side, "and I know I shall be well taken care of."
-
-The cavalcade moved off and for a mile followed the public road. Then it
-turned into a lane and then into a plantation road that led to what
-was called the "Turner old field," where for three or four years, and
-perhaps longer, Old Sandy had made his headquarters. By the time the
-hunters reached the field, which was a mile in extent, and made up
-of pasture-land overgrown with broom-sedge, wild plum-trees, and
-blackberry-vines, the dawn had disappeared before the sun. Red and
-yellow clouds mingled together in the east, and a rosy glow fell across
-the hills and woods. As they halted for Harbert to take down the fence,
-Joe stole a glance at his companion, and as she sat with her lips parted
-and the faint reflection of the rosy sky on her cheeks, he thought
-he had never seen a prettier picture. Jonah seemed to be of the same
-opinion, for he stood by the young lady's horse, looking into her face,
-and whistled wistfully through his nose.
-
-"That is your dog, I know!" said Miss Carter. "Why, he's a perfect
-beauty! Poor fellow!" she exclaimed, stretching her arm out and
-filliping her fingers. Jonah gathered himself together, leaped lightly
-into the air, and touched her fair hand with his velvet tongue. Joe
-blushed with delight. "Why, he jumped as high as a man's head!" she
-cried. "I know he will catch the fox."
-
-"I think we have stolen a march on Old Sandy," said Joe, "and if we
-have, you'll see a fine race. I hope the other dogs can keep up."
-
-"Ah," said their owner, "they are Maryland dogs."
-
-"My dog," said Joe, proudly, "is a Birdsong."
-
-By this time the hunters had crossed the fence, and the dogs, with the
-exception of Jonah, were beginning to cast about in the broom-sedge and
-brier-patches.
-
-"I hope Jonah isn't lazy," said Miss Carter, watching the dog as he
-walked in quiet dignity by the side of her horse.
-
-"Oh, no," said Joe, "he isn't lazy; but he never gets in a hurry until
-the time comes."
-
-The young men tried to tease Joe about Jonah, but the lad only smiled,
-and Jonah gradually worked away from the horses. It was noticed that he
-did not hunt as closely as the other dogs, nor did he nose the ground as
-carefully. He swept the field in ever-widening circles, going in an
-easy gallop, that was the perfection of grace, and energy, and strength.
-Presently Harbert cried out:
-
-"Looky yonder, Marse Joe! Looky yonder at Jonah!"
-
-All eyes were turned in the direction that Harbert pointed. The dog
-was hunting where the brown sedge was higher than his head, and he had
-evidently discovered something, for he would leap into the air, look
-around, and drop back into the sedge, only to go through the same
-performance with increasing energy.
-
-"Why don't he give a yelp or two and call the other dogs to help him?"
-exclaimed one of the young men.
-
-"He's no tattler," said Joe, "and he doesn't need any help. That fox has
-either just got up or he isn't twenty yards away. Just wait!"
-
-The next moment Jonah gave tongue with thrilling energy, repeated the
-challenge twice, and was off, topping the fence like a bird. The effect
-on the other dogs was magical; they rushed to the cry, caught up the
-red-hot drag, scrambled over the fence the best they could, and went
-away, followed by a cheer from Harbert that shook the dew from the
-leaves. The young men were off, too, and Joe had all he could do to hold
-his horse, which was in the habit of running with the hounds. The sound
-of the hunt grew fainter as the dogs ran across a stretch of meadow-land
-and through a skirt of woods to the open country beyond; and Joe and
-Miss Carter, accompanied by Harbert, proceeded leisurely to the brow of
-a hill near by.
-
-"If that is Old Sandy," said Joe, "he will come across the Bermuda field
-yonder, turn to the left, and pass us not very far from that dead pine."
-Joe was very proud of his knowledge.
-
-"Why, we shall see the best of the hunt!" cried Miss Carter,
-enthusiastically.
-
-They sat on their horses and listened. Sometimes the hounds seemed to
-be coming nearer, and then they would veer off. Finally, their musical
-voices melted away in the distance. Joe kept his eyes on the Bermuda
-field, and so did Harbert, while Miss Carter tapped her horse's mane
-gently with her riding-whip, and seemed to be enjoying the scene. They
-waited a long time, and Joe was beginning to grow disheartened, when
-Harbert suddenly exclaimed:
-
-"Looky yonder, Marse Joe! what dat gwine 'cross de Bermuda pastur'?"
-
-Across the brow of the hill slipped a tawny shadow--slipped across and
-disappeared before Miss Carter could see it.
-
-"That's Old Sandy," cried Joe; "now watch for Jonah!"
-
-Presently the hounds could be heard again, coming nearer and nearer.
-Then a larger and a darker shadow sprang out of the woods and swept
-across the pasture, moving swiftly and yet with the regularity of
-machinery. At short intervals a little puff of vapor would rise from
-this black shadow, and then the clear voice of Jonah would come ringing
-over the valley. Then the rest of the dogs, a group of shadows, with
-musical voices, swept across the Bermuda field.
-
-"Oh, how beautiful!" exclaimed Miss Carter, clapping her little hands.
-
-"Wait," said Joe; "don't make any noise. He'll pass here, and go to
-the fence yonder, and if he isn't scared to death you'll see a pretty
-trick."
-
-It was a wide circle the fox made after he passed through the Bermuda
-field. He crossed the little stream that ran through the valley, skirted
-a pine thicket, ran for a quarter of a mile along a plantation path, and
-then turned and came down the fallow ground that lay between the creek
-and the hill where Joe and Miss Carter, with Harbert, had taken their
-stand. It was a comparatively level stretch of nearly a half-mile. The
-old corn-rows ran lengthwise the field, and down one of these Old Sandy
-came in full view of those who were waiting to see him pass. He was
-running rapidly, but not at full speed, and, although his tongue was
-hanging out, he was not distressed. Reaching the fence two hundred yards
-away from the spectators, he clambered lightly to the top, sat down on
-a rail and began to lick his fore-paws, stopping occasionally, with one
-paw suspended in the air, to listen to the dogs. In a moment or two more
-Jonah entered the field at the head of the valley. Old Sandy, carefully
-balancing himself on the top rail of the fence, walked it for a hundred
-yards or more, then gathering himself together sprang into the air and
-fell in the broom-sedge fully twenty feet away from the fence.
-
-"Oh, I hope the dogs won't catch him!" exclaimed Miss Carter. "He surely
-deserves to escape!"
-
-"He got sense like folks," said Harbert.
-
-"He stayed on the fence too long. Just look at Jonah!" cried Joe.
-
-The hound came down the field like a whirlwind. He was running at least
-thirty yards to the left of the furrow the fox had followed.
-
-"Why, he isn't following the track of the fox," exclaimed Miss Carter.
-"I thought hounds trailed foxes by the scent."
-
-"They do," said Joe, "but Jonah doesn't need to follow it as the other
-dogs do. The dog that runs with his nose to the ground can never catch a
-red fox."
-
-"Isn't he beautiful!" cried the young lady, as Jonah rushed past, his
-head up and his sonorous voice making music in the air. He topped the
-fence some distance above the point where the fox had left it, lost the
-trail, and made a sweeping circle to the right, increasing his speed as
-he did so. Still at fault, he circled widely to the left, picked up the
-drag a quarter of a mile from the fence, and pushed on more eagerly than
-ever. The rest of the dogs had overrun the track at the point where the
-fox had turned to enter the field, but they finally found it again, and
-went by the spectators in fine style, running together very prettily.
-At the fence they lost the trail, and for some minutes they were casting
-about. One of the younger dogs wanted to take the back track, but
-Harbert turned him around, and was about to set the pack right, when the
-voice of Jonah was heard again, clear and ringing. Old Sandy, finding
-himself hard pushed, had dropped flat in the grass and allowed the hound
-to overrun him. Then he doubled, and started back. He gained but little,
-but he was still game. Jonah whirled in a short circle, and was after
-the fox almost instantly. Old Sandy seemed to know that this was his
-last opportunity. With a marvelous burst of speed he plunged through the
-belated dogs that were hunting for the lost drag, slipped through
-the fence, and went back by the spectators like a flash. There was a
-tremendous outburst of music from the dogs as they sighted him, and for
-one brief moment Joe was afraid that Jonah would be thrown out. The next
-instant the dog appeared on the fence, and there he sighted the fox. It
-was then that the courage and speed of Jonah showed themselves. Nothing
-could have stood up before him. Within a hundred yards he ran into the
-fox. Realizing his fate, Old Sandy leaped into the air with a squall,
-and the next moment the powerful jaws of Jonah had closed on him.
-
-[Illustration: 0216]
-
-By this time the rest of the hunters had come in sight. From a distance
-they witnessed the catch. They saw the rush that Jonah made; they saw
-Miss Carter and Joe Maxwell galloping forward; they saw the lad leap
-from his horse and bend over the fox, around which the dogs were jumping
-and howling; they saw him rise, with hat in hand, and present something
-to his fair companion; and then they knew that the young lady would ride
-home with Old Sandy's brush suspended from her saddle.
-
-These hunters came up after a while. Their horses were jaded, and the
-riders themselves looked unhappy.
-
-"Did you notice which one of my dogs caught the fox?" asked the young
-man to whom the pack belonged.
-
-"No, sir, I did not," said Joe.
-
-"I declare that is too funny!" exclaimed Miss Carter, laughing merrily,
-and then she went on to describe the chase as she saw it. The young man
-smiled as though he thought it was all a joke, and that night he called
-up Harbert, and offered him a dollar in Confederate money if he would
-tell the truth about the matter. Harbert told him the truth, but it was
-so unpleasant that the young man forgot all about the money, although a
-dollar at that time was worth not more than twelve and a half cents.
-
-Miss Carter seemed to be almost as proud of Jonah's performance as Joe
-was, and this made the lad feel very proud and happy. But, as they were
-going home, an incident happened which, for the time, and for some days
-afterward, drove all thoughts of Jonah and fox-hunting out of his mind.
-The hunters went back the way they had come, and shortly after they
-entered the public road they met a small procession that turned out to
-be very interesting, especially to Joe. First, there was a spring wagon,
-drawn by one horse and driven by a negro. On the seat with the negro,
-and securely fastened with ropes, was Mr. John Pruitt, the deserter.
-Behind the negro and Mr. Pruitt were two soldiers with guns, and three
-soldiers mounted on horses, and armed, acted as escort. The young
-officers who had been hunting with Joe Maxwell stopped the wagon and
-made inquiries until they had satisfied their curiosity. Joe would
-have spoken to Mr. Pruitt, but the latter, by an almost imperceptible
-movement of the head, seemed to forbid it. His face was as serene as
-if he had been on dress parade. As the wagon was about to move on, he
-spoke:
-
-"Ain't that the young chap that works in the printin'-office down by
-Phoenix school-house?" he asked, nodding his head toward Joe, without
-looking at him.
-
-"Yes," said one of the young officers.
-
-"Well, sir," said Mr. Pruitt, drawing a long breath, "I wish you'd
-please tell him to be so good ez to git word to my wife down in the
-Yarberry settlement that I won't have a chance to come home in a week or
-more, an' she'll hafter do the best she kin tell I git back."
-
-Joe said he would be glad to do so.
-
-"I 'low'd he would," said Mr. Pruitt, still speaking to the young
-officer; "an' I'm mighty much erbliged."
-
-Then the little procession moved on toward Hillsborough, and the hunters
-went homeward. Miss Nellie Carter was very much interested.
-
-"He doesn't look a bit like a deserter," she said, impulsively, "and
-I'm sure there's some mistake. I don't believe a deserter could hold his
-head up."
-
-Joe then made bold to tell her what he had heard--that Mr. Pruitt and
-several other soldiers had come home because they heard their families
-were suffering for food. Miss Carter was very much interested, and
-wanted to go with the lad to visit Mrs. Pruitt.
-
-"But I can't go," said Joe; "there's nobody to do my work in the
-printing-office. I'll send Mrs. Pruitt word to-night by some of the
-negroes."
-
-"No, no!" cried Miss Carter, "that will never do. I'll see my cousin
-and tell him about it. You must go to-day, and I'll go with you. Oh, it
-mustn't be postponed; you must go this very afternoon! Why, what is this
-little newspaper you are printing out here in the woods? The woman may
-be suffering."
-
-Miss Carter saw her cousin, the editor, and lost no time in telling him
-about Mr. Pruitt and his family. The editor, who was one of the best of
-men, was so much interested that, instead of sending Joe with the young
-lady, he went himself, taking in his buggy a stout hamper of provisions.
-When they came back, Miss Carter's eyes were red, as if she had been
-crying, and the editor looked very serious.
-
-"I'm very glad you didn't go," he said to Joe, when Miss Carter had
-disappeared in the house.
-
-"Was anybody dead?" asked Joe.
-
-"No," replied the editor. "Oh, no; nothing so bad as that. But the woman
-and her children have been in a terrible fix! I don't know who is to
-blame for it, but I shall score the county officers and the Ladies' Aid
-Society in the next paper. These people have been actually in a starving
-condition, and they look worse than if they had gone through a spell
-of fever. They are nothing but skin and bones. The main trouble is that
-they live in such an out-of-the-way place. The house is a mile from the
-public road, and hard to find."
-
-"I heard," said Joe, "that the provost-marshal had something to do with
-holding back supplies that ought to have gone to Mr. Pruitt's family."
-
-"How could he?" asked the editor; and then he added, quickly: "Why,
-of course he could; he is in charge of everything. He is judge, jury,
-lawyer, and general dictator. Who told you about it?"
-
-"I heard it in town," said Joe.
-
-"Well, he's a mean rascal," said the editor. He bade Joe good-evening,
-and started in the house, but half-way up the steps he paused and called
-to the lad.
-
-"Here's something I forgot to ask you about," he said, taking a letter
-from his pocket. "It is a note from Deo about you. What do you know
-about Deo?"
-
-"About me?" said Joe. "I used to know Mr. Deo when I was a little boy."
-
-"Well, you are not such a big boy now," said the editor, smiling. "Here
-is what Deo says: 'You have a boy working in your printing-office who
-can make himself very useful in a good cause when the time comes. His
-name is Joe Maxwell, and he is a very good friend of mine. At least he
-used to be. Before long I shall send for him, and, whether I send in the
-day or in the night, I want you to let him come. If I were to tell you
-now what I want with him, you would laugh and say that all fat men are
-foolish. What I want him to do can be done only by a woman or a boy. A
-woman is not to be thought of, and I know of no boy I can trust except
-Maxwell. Just give him your permission beforehand, so that there will be
-no delay.' Now what do you think about it?" inquired the editor.
-
-"May I go?" asked Joe.
-
-"That is for you to decide," said the editor. "I have been knowing
-Deometari for nearly twenty years. He's a good lawyer and a clever man.
-But, if you do go, be careful of yourself. Don't get into any trouble.
-Tell Deo that all of us like you out here, and we don't want any
-foolishness."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII--A NIGHT'S ADVENTURES
-
-
-It was the very next afternoon that Joe Maxwell received the expected
-summons from Mr. Deometari. The message was brought by a negro on a
-mule, and the mule seemed to be very tired, although it had come only
-nine miles.
-
-"I never is see no mule like dis," said the negro, indignantly, as he
-took a soiled letter from his hat and handed it to Joe. "I start from
-town at two o'tlocks, an' here 'tis mos' night. I got me a stick an' I
-hit 'er on one side, an' den she'd shy on t'er side de road, an' when I
-hit 'er on dat side, she'd shy on dis side. She been gwine slonchways de
-whole blessed way."
-
-[Illustration: 0224]
-
-Mr. Deomatari's note had neither address nor signature, and it was very
-brief. "Come at once," it said. "You remember the retreat from Laurel
-Hill and the otter? Come in by the jail and around by the Branham place.
-If some one cries, 'Who goes there?' say, 'It is the Relief.'"
-
-Joe turned the note over and studied it. "Who gave you this?" he asked
-the negro.
-
-"Dat chuffy-lookin' white man what stay dar at de tavern. He say you
-mustn't wait for me, but des push on. Dem wuz his ve'y words--des push
-on."
-
-Joe had some trouble in getting away. The editor had gone off somewhere
-in the plantation; and Butterfly, the horse he proposed to ride--the
-horse he always rode--was in the pasture, and a colt in a plantation
-pasture is as big a problem as a hard sum in arithmetic. The colt is
-like the answer. It is there somewhere; but how are you going to get it,
-and when? Harbert solved the problem after a while by cornering the colt
-and catching him; but the sun was nearly down when Joe started, and
-he then had nine miles to ride. Harbert, who was a sort of plantation
-almanac, said there would be no moon until after midnight, and a mighty
-small one then; but this made no difference to Joe Maxwell. Every
-foot of the road was as familiar to him as it was to old Mr. Wall, the
-hatter, who was in the habit of remarking that, if anybody would bring
-him a hatful of gravel from the big road that led to Hillsborough, he'd
-"up an' tell 'em right whar they scooped it up at." Joe not only knew
-the road well, but he was well mounted. Butterfly had all the faults Of
-a colt except fear. He was high-spirited and nervous, but nothing seemed
-to frighten him. When the lad started, Harbert ran on ahead to unlatch
-the big plantation gate that opened on the public-road.
-
-"Good-night, Marse Joe," said the negro. "I wish you mighty well."
-
-"Good-night, Harbert," responded Joe, as he went cantering into the
-darkness.
-
-There was something more than a touch of fall in the evening air, and
-Butterfly sprang forward eagerly, and chafed at the bit that held him
-back. The short, sharp snorts that came from his quivering nostrils
-showed the tremendous energy he had in reserve, and it was not until
-he had gone a mile or more that he settled down into the long, swift,
-sweeping gallop that seemed in the dim light to throw the trees and
-fences behind him. At a cross-road Joe heard the tramp of horses and the
-jingling of spurs and bridle-bits, but he never paused, and it was
-not until long afterward he learned that he had come near forming the
-acquaintance of Wilson's raiders, who were making their way back to
-Atlanta.
-
-By the time the stars had come out, Joe could see the lights of
-Hillsborough twinkling in the distance, and in a short time he had
-turned into the back street that led by the jail and made way across the
-town until he reached the square below the tavern. Then he turned to
-the left, and was soon in front of Mr. Deometari's room. Boy-like, he was
-secretly sorry that some sentinel had not challenged him on the way,
-so that he could give the countersign. A muffled figure, sitting on the
-edge of the veranda, roused itself as Joe rode up.
-
-"Where is Mr. Deometari?" the lad asked.
-
-"He in dar," replied the figure. "Is you fum de plantation, sah?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"Den I'm to take yo' hoss," the negro said.
-
-"Well, you must be careful with him," said the lad.
-
-"Dat I will, suh, kaze Marse Deo say he gwine pay me, an' 'sides dat, I
-stays at de liberty stable."
-
-Joe saw his horse led away, and then he knocked at Mr. Deometari's door.
-
-"Come in!" cried that genial gentleman.
-
-"I'm here, sir," said Joe, as he entered.
-
-"Why, my dear boy! so you are! and glad I am to see you. And you are on
-time. I had just pulled out my watch, and said to myself, 'In one short
-quarter of an hour the boy should be here, and I shall have his supper
-ready for him.' And just then you knocked, and here is my watch still in
-my hand. My dear boy, sit down and rest your bones. I feel better."
-
-Mr. Deomatari had supper for Joe and himself brought to his room, and as
-he ate he talked.
-
-"You are a clever chap," said Mr. Deome-tari. "You don't know how clever
-you are. No," he went on, seeing a curious smile on Joe's face--"no, I'm
-not making fun of you. I mean just what I say. Where is the boy in this
-town who would have galloped through the dark on an errand that he knew
-nothing of? I tell you, he is not to be found. But suppose he could be
-found, wouldn't he bother me with ten thousand questions about what he
-was expected to do, and how he was going to do it, and when, and which,
-and what not? Now, I want to ask you why you came?"
-
-"Because you sent for me," said Joe buttering another biscuit. "And
-because I wanted to find out all about--"
-
-"All about what?" asked Mr. Deometari.
-
-"About Mr. Pruitt, and--everything."
-
-"Well," said Mr. Deometari, "I won't tell you precisely why I sent for
-you--you'll find out for yourself; but one of the reasons is that I want
-you to go with a little party of us to a point not far from your home.
-You know the roads, and you know what the negroes call the short cuts."
-
-"To-night?" asked Joe.
-
-"Yes, to-night. Not now, but a little later."
-
-Joe ate his supper, and then sat gazing into the fire that had been
-kindled on the hearth.
-
-"I was just thinking, Mr. Deo," he said, after a while, "whether I ought
-to go and see mother."
-
-"Now that is the question." Mr. Deometari drew his chair closer to the
-lad, as if preparing to argue the matter. "Of course, you feel as if you
-ought to go. That is natural. But, if you go, you will have to give your
-mother some reason for being here. You could only tell her that I had
-sent for you. This is such a poor reason that she would be uneasy. Don't
-you think so?"
-
-"Well," said Joe, after a pause, "I can come to see her next Sunday."
-
-Rubbing his fat hands together, Mr. Deome-tari looked at Joe a long
-time. He seemed to be meditating. The ring on his finger glistened like
-a ray of sunlight that had been captured and was trying to escape.
-
-"I want to take you around," he said to Joe after a while, "and
-introduce you to Captain Johnson, our worthy provost-marshal."
-
-"Me?" asked the lad, in a tone of astonishment.
-
-"Yes," said Mr. Deometari. "Why not? A bright boy like you should be
-acquainted with all our great military men. Our noble captain would be
-very glad to see you if he knew as much about your visit as I do."
-
-"But as it is," said Joe, quickly, "he doesn't know any more about it
-than I do."
-
-"My dear boy," exclaimed Mr. Deometari, in a bantering tone, "don't get
-impatient. It is so very simple that all our plans might be spoiled if
-I told you. Now, then," he continued, looking at his watch, "if you are
-ready, we will go. You have no overcoat, but my shawl here will answer
-just as well."
-
-Joe protested that he never wore an overcoat, even in the coldest
-weather; but his protest had no effect on Mr. Deometari, who gave the
-shawl a dexterous turn and wrapped Joe in it from head to heels. Then he
-fastened it at the lad's throat with a long steel pin that had a handle
-like a dagger.
-
-"Why, I look just like a girl," said Joe, glancing down at his feet.
-
-"Very well, Miss Josephine," laughed Mr. Deometari; "just take my arm."
-
-The provost-marshal's office was on the opposite side of the public
-square from the tavern, and Mr. Deometari, instead of following
-the sidewalk, went through the court-house yard. There was not much
-formality observed around the office. There was no sentinel stationed at
-the door, which was opened (in response to Mr. Deometari's knock) by a
-small negro boy.
-
-[Illustration: 0232]
-
-Down a little passage-way, or hall, Mr. Deometari went, followed by Joe.
-A light shone from a door at the end of a passage on the left, and
-into this door Mr. Deometari went without ceremony. There was not much
-furniture in the room--four chairs, a lounge, and a table. A sword hung
-on the wall, between lithograph portraits of General Lee and Stonewall
-Jackson; and on one side was a long array of pigeonholes full of papers.
-A man sat at the table, and he was so busily engaged in writing that he
-nodded without looking up from his work.
-
-"Henderson," said Mr. Deometari, "I have company to-night. I want you to
-know this young man. His name is Joe Maxwell. He is an honorary member
-of the Relief Committee."
-
-At this Henderson wiped his pen on his head and laid it down. Then he
-peered across the table at Joe. The two candles that gave him light were
-so close to his eyes that they blinded him when he lifted his face.
-
-"Maxwell, did you say?--All right, Mr. Maxwell; I am glad to see you.
-Excuse my hand; it is full of ink."
-
-Mr. Henderson had a soft, gentle voice, and his hand, although it was
-splashed with ink, was as delicate as that of a woman.
-
-"Is this the Mr. Henderson you were telling me about some time ago?"
-asked Joe, turning to Mr. Deometari. "I mean the Mr. Henderson who was
-sick when you retreated from Laurel Hill?"
-
-"The same," said Mr. Deometari.
-
-Mr. Henderson laughed softly to hide his surprise, pushed his chair
-back, and rose from his seat. Whatever he was going to say was left
-unsaid. At that moment a knock that echoed down the hallway came on
-the outer door, and it was followed almost immediately by the firm and
-measured tread of some newcomer. Then there appeared in the doorway
-the serene face of Mr. Archie Blandford. He glanced around the room
-half-smiling until his eyes fell on Joe, and then the shadowy smile gave
-place to an unmistakable frown. Joe saw it, and for the first time felt
-that his position was a peculiar one, to say the least. He began to feel
-very uncomfortable, and this feeling was not relieved by the curt nod of
-recognition that Mr. Blandford gave him. He was a sensitive lad, and
-it was not pleasant to realize that he was regarded as an intruder. He
-looked at Mr. Deometari, but that gentleman seemed to be absorbed in a
-study of the portraits on the wall. Mr. Blandford advanced a few steps
-into the room, hesitated, and then said, abruptly:
-
-"Deo! let me see you a moment."
-
-The two men went into the hall and as far as the outer door, and,
-although they talked in subdued tones, the passage took the place of a
-speaking-tube, and every word they uttered could be heard by Joe Maxwell
-and Mr. Henderson.
-
-"Deo," said Mr. Blandford, "what under the sun is Maxwell doing here? He
-ought to be at home in bed."
-
-"He is here," Mr. Deometari explained, "at my invitation."
-
-"But your reason must tell you, Deo, that that child ought not to be
-mixed up in this night's business. It is almost certain to be serious."
-
-"That is precisely the reason he is here," said Mr. Deometari. "I might
-preach to you from now until doomsday, and you'd never lis-ten to me.
-But, with that boy looking at you, you'll keep your temper. I know you
-better than you know yourself. You came here tonight with your mind made
-up to do something rash. I read it in your face last night; I saw it in
-your eyes this morning; I hear it in your voice now. My dear fellow, it
-will never do in the world. You would ruin everything. What you intended
-to do, you won't dare to do with that boy looking at you. And there's
-another reason: if this man Johnson is to be taken out of the county,
-the best route is by Armour's Ferry, and Maxwell knows every foot of the
-road."
-
-Then there was a pause, and Mr. Henderson went to the door and said;
-
-"You two might as well come in here and have it out. We can hear every
-word you say."
-
-They came back into the room, Mr. Bland-ford smiling, and Mr. Deometari
-a little flushed.
-
-"I forgot to shake hands with you just now," said Mr. Blandford, going
-over to Joe and seizing the lad's hand. "It wasn't because I don't like
-you."
-
-"Thank you," replied Joe. "I don't understand what you and Mr. Deo were
-talking about, but I don't wan't to be in the way."
-
-"You are not in the way at all," said Mr. Deometari, emphatically.
-
-"I should say not," exclaimed Mr. Blandford, heartily. "Deo is right and
-I was wrong. I'd be happy if I wasn't in anybody's way any more than you
-are. You'll find out when you grow bigger that a man never gets too old
-to be a fool." With that he reached under his overcoat and unbuckled a
-heavy pistol, and placed it on the mantel.--"You see," he said to Mr.
-Deometari, "I am making a complete surrender. I don't want to have
-that gun where I can get my hands on it when I see our friend Captain
-Johnson."
-
-"You may buckle on your pistol," remarked Mr. Henderson, softly. "You
-won't see the captain to-night."
-
-"Thunderation!" exclaimed Mr. Deometari, springing to his feet. "We must
-see him! Pruitt is in the guard-house. Sick or well, Captain Johnson
-must travel with us this night. I don't want him killed or hurt, but the
-scoundrel shall strut around this town no more."
-
-"It's just as I tell you," said Henderson, in his gentle way; "you'll
-not see him to-night."
-
-Mr. Blandford laughed, as though he regarded the matter as a joke,
-while Mr. Henderson began to fumble among some papers on the table. He
-selected from these three little documents, which he spread out before
-him, one on the other. Then he looked at the other two men and smiled.
-
-"Tom," said Mr. Deometari, "this is a very serious matter. You know this
-man Johnson as well as we do, and you know that the time has come to get
-rid of him."
-
-"I know him a great deal better than either of you," said Mr. Henderson,
-still smiling, "and that is the reason he's not here to-night. That is
-the reason you won't see him."
-
-Mr. Deometari paced back and forth on the floor, pulling his whiskers,
-while Mr. Blandford drummed impatiently on the table.
-
-"The trouble is," Mr. Henderson went on, still addressing Mr. Deometari,
-"that we are both afraid of Archie Blandford's temper."
-
-"Now, just listen at that!" exclaimed Mr. Blandford. "Why, you'll make
-this chap here think I'm vicious. He'll believe I'm a man-eater."
-
-"We both know how he feels toward Captain Johnson," Mr. Henderson
-continued, not heeding the interruption, "and we have both been trying
-to prevent him from doing anything he might regret. I think your plan
-would have succeeded; and I'm glad you brought Maxwell, anyhow, because
-I like to meet a bright boy once in a while; but my plan is the best,
-after all, for Captain Johnson is gone."
-
-Mr. Deometari stopped walking the floor, and sat down. "Tell us about
-it."
-
-"Well," said Mr. Henderson, "here is some correspondence that came to
-Captain Johnson through the post-office. There are three letters. We
-will call this number one:
-
-"'Sir: It has been noticed that you have refused to forward supplies
-intended for the wives and children of Confederate soldiers.
-This refers especially to the wife and children of one John Pruitt.'"
-
-"There is no signature," said Mr. Henderson. "This"--taking up another
-document--"we will call number two."
-
-"'Sir: It is known that no supplies have left this post for the wife and
-children of one John Pruitt. Will the Relief Committee have to act?
-
-"Here," continued Mr. Henderson, "is the last. It is number three:
-
-"'Sir: John Pruitt is in jail, where he can not help himself. The Relief
-Committee will meet to-morrow night. Hold yourself in readiness to hear
-again the story of the retreat from Laurel Hill.'"
-
-"Well?" said Mr. Deometari, as Mr. Henderson paused.
-
-"Well, the man was worried nearly to death. He was in a continual
-fidget. At last he came to me and talked the matter over. That was
-yesterday. We went over the Laurel Hill incidents together, and I used
-Archie Blandford's name pretty freely. The upshot of it was that I
-advised Captain Johnson to report to the commander of the post in Macon,
-and he took my advice."
-
-"Do I look like a dangerous man?" asked Mr. Blandford, turning to Joe.
-
-"Not now," replied Joe. "But your eyes are very bright."
-
-"I wish to goodness they were as bright as yours!" said Mr. Blandford,
-laughing.
-
-"So we've had all our trouble for nothing," Mr. Deometari suggested.
-
-"Oh, no," said Mr. Henderson; "we've been saved a great deal of trouble.
-Johnson is gone, and I have here an order for Pruitt's release."
-
-"If we had known all this," remarked Mr. Deometari, "Maxwell would be
-safe in bed, where I suspect he ought to be.--My son," he went on, "it
-is a pity to have you riding back and forth in the night."
-
-"Just to please a fat man with the whimsies," Mr. Blandford observed.
-
-"Oh, it is no trouble to me," Joe protested. "It is almost like a book,
-only I don't exactly understand it all. What were you going to do with
-Captain Johnson?"
-
-"Me? oh, I--well, the fact is, Deo was commanding my regiment to-night,"
-replied Mr. Blandford. He seemed to be embarrassed.
-
-"It is all very simple," said Mr. Deometari.
-
-"When you get a little older you'll find a great many people like
-Captain Johnson. He had a little power, and he has used it so as to turn
-all the people here against him. Another trouble is, that he used to
-belong to the regulars, where the discipline is as strict as it can be.
-He has tried to be too strict here, and these Confederate people won't
-stand it. The private soldier thinks he is as good as a commissioned
-officer, and sometimes better. A provost-marshal is a sort of military
-chief of police, and, when his commander is as far away as Macon, he
-can do a good deal of harm, especially if he has a streak of meanness
-running through him. Johnson has made enemies here by the hundred. Worst
-of all, he has treated the wives of soldiers very badly. You know all
-about his spite at John Pruitt. We were going to take him to-night to
-Armour's Ferry, put him across the river, and give him to understand
-that we could get along without him."
-
-"And he would never come back?" asked Joe.
-
-"No," said Mr. Deometari, "he would never come back."
-
-"Was Mr. Blandford very mad with him?" inquired the lad.
-
-"Yes, I was," that gentleman admitted, laughing a little and looking
-uncomfortable. "He had me arrested once, and tried to make me shovel
-sand into a barrel that was open at both ends. What do you think of
-that?"
-
-"I think it must have been very funny," said Joe, laughing heartily.
-
-"I reckon it was funny," observed Mr. Bland-ford, grimly, "but the
-rascal wouldn't have enjoyed the fun if it hadn't been for this big fat
-man here."
-
-"You are not referring to me, I hope," said Mr. Henderson, so seriously
-that the rest burst out laughing.
-
-"Come, now," Mr. Deometari suggested. "Let's let in some fresh air on
-poor John Pruitt."
-
-There was nothing more to be done after Mr. Pruitt was released from
-the guard-house, and so Joe mounted his horse and cantered off to the
-plantation. Butterfly was very glad to have his head turned in that
-direction, and he went so swiftly that in the course of an hour Joe was
-at home and in bed. His mind was so full of what he had seen and heard
-that he went over it all in his slumber. Mr. Deometari, chunky as he
-was, took the place of Porthos, the big musketeer; Mr. Blandford was
-D'Artagnan; Mr. Henderson was the sleek and slender one (Aramis) whose
-name Joe could not remember in his dreams; and even Mr. Pruitt grew into
-a romantic figure.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV--THE CURTAIN FALLS
-
-
-Somehow, after Joe Maxwell's experience with Mr. Deometari, Mr.
-Blandford, and the rest, events of importance seemed to follow each
-other more rapidly. Some of them were surprising, and all confusing. It
-was in the month of July that Atlanta was taken by General Sherman.
-A few weeks afterward, Harbert, while cleaning and oiling the old
-Washington No. 2 hand-press in _The Countryman_ office, told Joe that
-the Federal army would come marching through the county before long.
-
-"Who told you?" asked Joe.
-
-"De word done come," replied Harbert "Hit bleeze ter be so, kaze all
-de niggers done hear talk un it. We-all will wake up some er deze
-odd-come-shorts an' fin' de Yankees des a-swarmin' all 'roun' here."
-
-"What are you going to do?" Joe inquired, laughing.
-
-"Oh, you kin laugh, Marse Joe, but deyer comin'. What I g wine do? Well,
-suh, I'm gwine ter git up an' look at um, an' may be tip my hat ter some
-er de big-bugs 'mongst um, an' den I'm gwine on 'bout my business. I
-don't speck deyer gwine ter bodder folks what don't bodder dem, is dey?"
-
-Joe had forgotten this conversation until it was recalled to his mind
-one morning shortly after his night ride to Hillsborough. General
-Sherman had swung loose from Atlanta, and was marching down through
-middle Georgia. The people that Joe saw went about with anxious faces,
-and even the negroes were frightened.
-
-[Illustration: 0246]
-
-Before this vast host all sorts of rumors fled, carrying fear and
-consternation to the peaceful plantations. At last, one cold, drizzly
-day in November, Joe Maxwell, trudging along the road on his way to the
-printing-office, heard the clatter of hoofs behind him, and two horsemen
-in blue came galloping along. They reined up their horses, and inquired
-the distance to Hillsborough, and then went galloping on again. They
-were couriers carrying dispatches from the Twentieth Army Corps to
-General Sherman.
-
-There was hurrying to and fro on the plantation after this. The horses
-and mules were driven to a remote field in which there was a large
-swamp. Joe carried Butterfly and tethered him in the very middle of the
-swamp, where he could get plenty of water to drink and young cane
-to eat. During the next ten hours the plantation, just as Harbert
-predicted, fairly swarmed with foraging parties of Federals. Guided by
-some of the negroes, they found the horses and mules and other stock and
-drove them off; and, when Joe heard of it, he felt like crying over the
-loss of Butterfly. The horse did not belong to him, but he had trained
-it from a colt, and it was his whenever he wanted to use it, day or
-night. Yet Butterfly was soon forgotten in the excitement and confusion
-created by the foragers, who swept through the plantations, levying
-in the name of war on the live-stock, and ransacking the not too
-well-filled smoke-houses and barns in search of supplies.
-
-Joe Maxwell saw a good deal of these foragers, and he found them all,
-with one exception, to be good-humored. The exception was a German, who
-could scarcely speak English enough to make himself understood. This
-German, when he came to the store-room where the hats were kept, wanted
-to take off as many as his horse could carry, and he became very angry
-when Joe protested. He grew so angry, in fact, that he would have fired
-the building. He lit a match, drew together a lot of old papers and
-other rubbish, and was in the act of firing it, when an officer ran in
-and gave him a tremendous paddling with the flat of his sword. It was
-an exhibition as funny as a scene in the circus, and Joe enjoyed it
-as thoroughly as he could under the circumstances. By night, all the
-foragers had disappeared.
-
-[Illustration: 0249]
-
-The army had gone into camp at Denham's Mill, and Joe supposed that it
-would march on to Hillsborough, but in this he was mistaken. It turned
-sharply to the left the next morning and marched toward Milledgeville.
-Joe had aimlessly wandered along this road, as he had done a hundred
-times before, and finally seated himself on the fence near an old
-school-house, and began to whittle on a rail. Before he knew it the
-troops were upon him. He kept his seat, and the Twentieth Army Corps,
-commanded by General Slocum, passed in review before him. It was an
-imposing array as to numbers, but not as to appearance! For once and for
-all, so far as Joe was concerned, the glamour and romance of war were
-dispelled. The skies were heavy with clouds, and a fine, irritating
-mist sifted down. The road was more than ankle-deep in mud, and even
-the fields were boggy. There was nothing gay about this vast procession,
-with its tramping soldiers, its clattering horsemen, and its lumbering
-wagons, except the temper of the men. They splashed through the mud,
-cracking their jokes and singing snatches of songs.
-
-Joe Maxwell, sitting on the fence, was the subject of many a jest, as
-the good-humored men marched by.
-
-"Hello, Johnny! Where's your parasol?"
-
-"Jump down, Johnny, and let me kiss you good-by!"
-
-"Johnny, if you are tired, get up behind and ride!"
-
-"Run and get your trunk, Johnny, and get aboard!"
-
-"He's a bushwhacker, boys. If he bats his eyes, I'm a-goin' to dodge!"
-
-"Where's the rest of your regiment, Johnny?"
-
-"If there was another one of 'em a-settin' on the fence, on t'other
-side, I'd say we was surrounded!"
-
-These and hundreds of other comments, exclamations, and questions, Joe
-was made the target of; and, if he stood the fire of them with unusual
-calmness, it was because this huge panorama seemed to him to be the
-outcome of some wild dream. That the Federal army should be plunging
-through that peaceful region, after all he had seen in the newspapers
-about Confederate victories, seemed to him to be an impossibility. The
-voices of the men, and their laughter, sounded vague and insubstantial.
-It was surely a dream that had stripped war of its glittering' trappings
-and its flying banners. It was surely the distortion of a dream that
-tacked on to this procession of armed men droves of cows, horses, and
-mules, and wagon-loads of bateaux! Joe had read of pontoon bridges, but
-he had never heard of a pontoon train, nor did he know that bateaux were
-a part of the baggage of this invading army.
-
-But it all passed after a while, and then Joe discovered that he had
-not been dreaming at all. He jumped from the fence and made his way home
-through the fields. Never before, since its settlement, had such peace
-and quiet reigned on the plantation. The horses and mules were gone, and
-many of the negro cabins were empty. Harbert was going about as busy as
-ever, and some of the older negroes were in their accustomed places, but
-the younger ones, especially those who, by reason of their fieldwork,
-had not been on familiar terms with their master and mistress, had
-followed the Federal army. Those that remained had been informed by the
-editor that they were free; and so it happened, in the twinkling of an
-eye, that the old things had passed away and all was new.
-
-In a corner of the fence, not far from the road, Joe found an old
-negro woman shivering and moaning. Near her lay an old negro man, his
-shoulders covered with an old ragged shawl. "Who is that lying there?"
-asked Joe.
-
-"It my ole man, suh."
-
-"What is the matter with him?"
-
-"He dead, suh! But, bless God, he died free!" *
-
-It was a pitiful sight, and a pitiable ending of the old couple's dream
-of freedom. Harbert and the other negroes buried the old man, and the
-old woman was made comfortable in one of the empty cabins; she never
-ceased to bless "little marster," as she called Joe, giving him all the
-credit for everything that was done for her. Old as she was, she and
-her husband had followed the army for many a weary mile on the road to
-freedom. The old man found it in the fence corner, and a few weeks later
-the old woman found it in the humble cabin.
-
-The next morning, as Joe Maxwell was loitering around the
-printing-office, talking to the editor, Butterfly came galloping up,
-ridden by Mink, who was no longer a runaway.
-
-     * This incident has had many adaptations. It occurred just
-     as it is given here, and was published afterward in _The
-     Countryman_.
-
-"I seed you put 'im out in de swamp dar, Mars' Joe, an' den I seed some
-er de yuther niggers gwine dar long wid dem Yankee mens, an' I say ter
-myse'f dat I better go dar an' git 'im; so I tuck 'im down on de river,
-an' here he is. He mayn't be ez fatez he wuz, but he des ez game ez he
-yever is been."
-
-Joe was pleased, and the editor was pleased; and it happened that Mink
-became one of the tenants on the plantation, and after a while he bought
-a little farm of his own, and prospered and thrived.
-
-But this is carrying a simple chronicle too far. It can not be spun out
-here and now so as to show the great changes that have been wrought--the
-healing of the wounds of war; the lifting up of a section from ruin
-and poverty to prosperity; the molding of the beauty, the courage,
-the energy, and the strength of the old civilization into the new; the
-gradual uplifting of a lowly race. All these things can not be told of
-here. The fire burns low, and the tale is ended.
-
-The plantation newspaper was issued a little while longer, but in a land
-filled with desolation and despair its editor could not hope to see it
-survive. A larger world beckoned to Joe Maxwell, and he went out into
-it. And it came about that on every side he found loving hearts to
-comfort him and strong and friendly hands to guide him. He found new
-associations and formed new ties. In a humble way he made a name for
-himself, but the old plantation days still live in his dreams.
-
-THE END.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's On the Plantation, by Joel Chandler Harris
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON THE PLANTATION ***
-
-***** This file should be named 50701.txt or 50701.zip *****
-This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
-        http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/7/0/50701/
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by Google Books
-
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
-be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
-States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive
-specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this
-eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook
-for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports,
-performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given
-away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks
-not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the
-trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.
-
-START: FULL LICENSE
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
-person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
-1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
-Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country outside the United States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
-on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-
-  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-  most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
-  restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
-  under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
-  eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
-  United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you
-  are located before using this ebook.
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
-other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
-Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-provided that
-
-* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
-  the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
-  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
-  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
-  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
-  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
-  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
-  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
-  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
-  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
-  Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
-  Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
-  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
-  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
-  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
-  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
-  works.
-
-* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
-  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
-  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
-  receipt of the work.
-
-* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
-  distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The
-Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
-www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
-mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
-volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous
-locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
-Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to
-date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
-official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-
-For additional contact information:
-
-    Dr. Gregory B. Newby
-    Chief Executive and Director
-    gbnewby@pglaf.org
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
-spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
-state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-
-Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
-facility: www.gutenberg.org
-
-This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
-