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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3079b50 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69865 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69865) diff --git a/old/69865-0.txt b/old/69865-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 48ea7c2..0000000 --- a/old/69865-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6293 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of North by night, by Peter Burchard - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: North by night - -Author: Peter Burchard - -Release Date: January 24, 2023 [eBook #69865] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was - produced from images made available by the HathiTrust - Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH BY NIGHT *** - - - - - -NORTH BY NIGHT - - - - - [Illustration] - - NORTH - BY - NIGHT - - BY PETER BURCHARD - - [Illustration] - - COWARD-McCANN, INC. NEW YORK - - - - - Second Impression - - © 1962 by Coward-McCann, Inc. - All rights reserved. This book, or parts therefor, may not - be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from - the publishers. Published simultaneously in the Dominion of - Canada by Longmans Canada Limited, Toronto. - Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 61-18609 - Manufactured in the United States of America - - - - - _To the memory of - Captain V. B. Chamberlain - Seventh Connecticut Volunteers_ - - - - - _Also by Peter Burchard_ - - JED: The Story of a Yankee - Soldier and a Southern Boy. - - - - -_Author’s Note_ - - -This story opens on St. Helena Island in July 1863. It is fiction but -the battle and prison experiences of Lieutenant Timothy Bradford are -based on those of Captain V. B. Chamberlain of the Seventh Connecticut -Volunteer Infantry. - -The Seventh Connecticut was part of an expeditionary force which was -sent to South Carolina in October 1861 to occupy the islands along the -coast and establish a base for military operations against the city of -Charleston. - -Union troops occupied the town of Beaufort on Port Royal Island and -made their headquarters and their main base of supplies on the Island -of Hilton Head. - -The first charge on Fort Wagner (called Battery Wagner by the -Confederates) is described in this book. Wagner was probably the -strongest earthwork in the history of modern warfare. - -A second charge on Wagner was mounted just one week after the first. -This second attack was repulsed. Wagner was finally reduced by siege -and occupied by Union troops in September 1863. - - - - -NORTH BY NIGHT - - - - -CHAPTER ONE - - -A big Negro was cleaning fish at the end of a spindly pier. He looked -up as the two Yankee soldiers came toward him. He watched steadily as -they approached but he showed no fear. The hot air shimmered as it rose -from the sandy soil and the marsh grass whispered in a light breeze. -The midday sun flashed on the water, making the white men draw their -eyes into thin horizontal slits. - -The taller soldier raised his hand in a casual greeting and stopped -before his boots touched the gray, weathered boards of the pier. “Good -catch?” he asked. - -The Negro stood up slowly and hunched his massive shoulders and looked -down at a half-cleaned fish. “Good enough,” he said. Then he raised his -head. “I hear talk that most of you are leaving soon.” - -The shorter soldier pulled at his red beard. “Soldiers are always on -the move,” he said. - -“Why must you sail away from here? You buy our vegetables and fish; you -rent our boats. It’s good to have you here.” - -The taller soldier smiled. “We have to fight.” - -The fisherman lowered his head again. “If you must fight, you need a -swim before you go.” He pointed down the creek. “Take my boat and row -across the inlet to the beach.” - -The taller soldier reached into the pocket of his blouse, but the big -man put up his hand. “No money today. Jus’ take the boat.” - -The soldier stepped onto the pier, as if to shake the colored man’s -hand. “Thank you,” he said. “My name is Lieutenant Bradford and this is -my friend Lieutenant Kelly.” - -The fisherman didn’t take the hand, but his mouth formed the hint of a -smile. “Thank you,” he said. “My name is Sam.” - -Red Kelly took the oars of the little boat and Tim Bradford sat on -the sagging seat in the stern as they moved along the creek and into -the inlet that separated St. Helena from the complex of smaller -outer islands. These islands laced the coast of South Carolina from -Georgetown to Hilton Head. The Atlantic Ocean washed their beaches, -and their backs were honeycombed with deep creeks and rivers where -shallow-draft Confederate blockade runners had once found it easy to -move and hide. - -Shortly after the start of the War the first expedition to these -islands had been mapped by President Lincoln and his military planners. -There had been good reasons for taking the War to South Carolina -without delay. The state had been the first to secede, the first to -fire on the flag, and there was need of a base of supplies for the -ships of the North. - -Now Federal forces held most of the outer islands from Savannah to -Charleston. A base of supplies had been set up on Hilton Head, and the -town of Beaufort on Port Royal Island was occupied by Yankee troops. - -Sixty miles northeast was the proud port of Charleston, heavily -fortified, Fort Sumter at the mouth of its beautiful harbor, the -place where the War had begun. Fast Confederate packets still ran -into Charleston under cover of night, taking supplies to the Southern -forces, but the Federal Navy had made it a dangerous game. Nowadays -most of the packets headed for Cape Fear, about a hundred and thirty -miles northeast of Charleston. - -As Tim’s thoughts went back over the past two years, he was troubled by -a familiar restlessness. He looked into the fish-smelling bottom of the -little boat and across the inlet to the palmettos and scrub oaks that -lined the shore of the outer island, and he flexed his hands. - -Red Kelly, watching him with piercing blue eyes, read his thoughts. “We -move tomorrow,” he said. “Be patient. God made this land and the sky -above it. Live at peace this lazy day.” - -“Do you think we can win this war?” - -“We have many more men under arms than the Rebs and we’re backed by the -might of our industry. But this is a big, far-ranging war. The good -Lord knows how long it will last.” - -Tim pushed back his cap and ran his hand through his stiff sandy hair. -“The boys in the West are fighting a war that moves. We’re fighting a -sitting war.” - -“They’ve done their share of sitting in the West and in Virginia. -Before this week is finished you’ll have your chance to fight again and -a chance to die.” - -Tim smiled. “I have no wish to die.” - -Red’s face was flushed as he pulled at the oars. They moved across the -inlet and glided into a tidal pool. They beached the boat, dragging -it into the marsh grass. They moved through the heavy undergrowth, -shielded from the sun by tall mop-headed palmetto trees. As they left -the shadow of the trees the sun flashed pain into their eyes. - -The beach stretched away to the northeast, ending in a point of land -where palmetto trees hung over the sand on great shelves, their roots -stripped bare by stormy seas. The ocean was flat and vast, and on the -horizon the masts of a sailing ship barely moved in a distant, ghostly -mist. To the southwest a big steam frigate moved slowly into Port Royal -Sound. When its ensign had disappeared behind the trees they stripped -off their clothes and splashed into the water. - -Red had never learned to swim, so he stuck close to the shallow places. -Tim swam into deeper water and paddled just out of his depth, letting -the current take him along the shore. Suddenly Red shouted, “Sharks!” - -Tim saw two putty-colored fins sliding obliquely toward him. Terror -struck at his chest and he wheeled and swam for shore. As he reached -shallow water he leapt and dashed, the water dragging at his legs, -pulling him back. At last his ankles broke free. - -Red was white as plaster in the sun, his arms crooked tensely. “Saints -preserve us,” he said, “that was a close one, indeed.” - -Tim stood on the sand, his chest heaving, and scanned the water for -signs of the sharks but the fins were gone. - -Red said, “They gave it up as soon as you started to splash toward -shore.” - -“Thank God for that. I swam as if my feet were made of lead.” - -The men pulled on their pants and sat on the sand. Red was quiet for a -while and then he said, “I’m thinking of Nancy and Tommy back in New -Haven, waiting for me to finish with the War. Tommy would be a little -boy now, not a baby any more. I’ve never even seen his picture. I keep -begging Nancy to send me a photograph of both of them, but I suppose -she doesn’t have the money to have one made.” He smiled. “You single -men are a happy lot. No family worries. Devil may care, that’s what you -are.” - -Tim smiled. Then his face grew serious. “I have a girl,” he said. “We -have an understanding, but I haven’t spoken to her father yet.” - -“A girl is it? Well, you’re a fox, Timmy boy. I’ve lived and fought -with you since we left the North and you’ve never so much as mentioned -a girl.” - -Red’s face took on a faraway look. “Nancy and I were thinking of moving -away from New Haven after the war. Tell me, how is life in a country -town?” - -Tim squinted his eyes. The distant sailing ship had scarcely moved, -but the mist had burned away. “The town is clean,” he said. “The yards -of the houses are neat, and the village green is really green. The -Connecticut River flows wide and deep below the houses. My girl’s name -is Kate. She lives three miles down river. Her eyes are blue and her -hair is dark. She’s full of life. Sometimes I worry that she’ll bust -loose and go to New York or Boston and marry some tall, dark handsome -man.” - -“But she writes you still?” - -“Sure she writes, and she sounds as loving-hearted as she ever did.” - -“Then put away your fears of tall, dark city men.” Red smiled. “Tell me -more about the town. What do the men do for a living?” - -“My father is the only doctor in town. I guess I told you that before. -Then there’s the owner of the general store and the parson and the -blacksmith. Most of the other men are farmers. It’s just like any -country town.” - -Tim reached for a handful of sand and let it trickle through his -fingers. “My father worked so hard he never had time for me or the -twins. That grieved him sorely, I’m afraid.” - -“That’s the way with doctors.” - -The two men finished dressing and turned away from the stretch of -peaceful beach and the limitless ocean. - -They walked to the boat and dragged it through the slime. Red stepped -in and sat in the stern. Tim took the oars. - -Not a breath of air was stirring the trees. One of Tim’s oars smacked -the water, and a white egret flapped suddenly into the air from a -saffron-colored tidal pool, flickering white against the bluish Spanish -moss that clung to the trees along the shore. - - - - -CHAPTER TWO - - -The moon came up above the cooking fires and shimmered behind the heat -that was still held by the sands of St. Helena Island. Mosquitoes rose -from the swamps and pools and sluggish rivers to the west. - -The soldiers unstacked their rifles and cleaned them. They packed their -gear and settled down by the cooking fires and boiled what might be -their last hot meal for quite a while. - -Tim and Red shared a tent with Captain Kautz and Dawson but tonight -they sat at the table alone. Tim had set out a candle in a bright brass -holder. A faint breeze stirred the tent flaps, and the light flickered -on the tin cups and plates. Red’s beard glinted in the yellow light. - -Most of the boys had already struck their tents, but Kautz liked to -keep things set up until the very last so he could spread out maps and -do his work. He was short and fierce and powerfully built. He would -sit for hours before the company went into action, his blouse open and -his head bent, studying the map. He would pull his beard and fuss and -fidget and suddenly get to his feet with his bristling chin thrust -forward. “And that’s how it will go,” he would say and then smile -frostily to himself. “If the Confederates will cooperate.” - -Tonight Kautz was having supper with the colonel. Tim hadn’t seen -Dawson since early morning. Everyone knew the regiment was to sail at -dawn, and the camp hummed with talk of the fighting that lay ahead. The -boys knew they were moving against Charleston, and most of them were -eager to go. - -The candle guttered as the two men finished their meal. Red cupped his -hand around the flame and blew it out. In a nearby tent they heard a -clatter of plates, and a shout went up. Tim leaned back so that he -could see past the tent flap. A man was running wildly around a cooking -fire, stripped to the waist. “It’s Corporal Steele,” Tim said. “Every -company has a clown.” - -Now Sergeant Fitch and some of the other boys joined the fun. They -whooped and hollered and jigged. The firelight struck their bodies like -a patchwork quilt. Tim smiled to himself. - -A voice was suddenly raised above the din. A blond-haired man of middle -height came into the light, with both fists clenched. “You men have -work to do,” he screamed. “Clean your rifles and assemble your gear. -Tomorrow we move up the coast.” - -Tim said, “Dawson’s drunk as a lord.” He stood up and stepped outside -the tent, moving toward the fire. - -Dawson looked up, his chin trembling. “Lieutenant,” he said in a -shaking voice, “are these your men?” - -“Yes, Captain, they’re my men,” Tim said. “Their rifles are clean and -they’re ready to go. They were just letting off a little steam.” - -“Are you being insolent with me?” - -Tim looked down at the captain’s sweat-streaked shirt. He turned to -Sergeant Fitch. “Sergeant,” he said, controlling the anger in his -voice, “you men look over your gear and report back to me.” - -“Captain.” He turned. “Can I help you to a cup of coffee?” - -Dawson put his hands on his hips and swayed a little, focusing his -watery eyes on Tim. “Mind your manners, Lieutenant,” he said and turned -and walked unsteadily away. - -As soon as he’d gone Red staggered out of the tent. He put his hands on -his hips, swayed back and forth and crossed his eyes. “Were you bein’ -inshulent wi’ me?” - -Tim grinned, reached out a long arm and pushed Red so hard that he -staggered back and fell on the grass. - -It wasn’t long before Sergeant Fitch came back with his boys. “Our -rifles are clean and our gear is packed,” he said. - -Tim stood up and kicked some sand into the fire. “Are your buttons nice -and shiny so the Rebs can see them in the dark?” - -“Like diamonds, sir.” - -Corporal Steele was hanging back, but Tim could see that he was -smiling. “Why don’t you boys sit down for a while?” - -Steele sat on an empty hardtack box and the others sprawled on the -grass. Sergeant Fitch cleared his throat. “Lieutenant Kelly, I wonder -would you sing us that Irish lullaby?” - -“Now what would a strapping man like you be wanting with a lullaby?” - -Red sang in his fine tenor voice. - -As other soldiers gathered around, Tim stood up and left the group. -He walked back to the tent. A warm breeze blew in from the ocean. He -reached for his poncho and spread it on the ground not far from the -tent. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head. - -Red’s voice came clear in the silence of the starlit night. Tim thought -of Kate. The last time he’d written her he’d known in his heart he was -writing the thoughts of a boy who had left home two long years before. -If only he and Kate could meet and talk for a while. - -He remembered the first time he’d danced with her, the light from the -chandeliers striking the whirling figures in the white-painted room -of the new Town Hall. As he drifted into sleep Tim thought about the -dresses, pink and salmon and powder blue against the men’s black suits. - - * * * * * - -When reveille sounded Tim woke up and rolled over. Red lay on the sand -a few feet away, groaning as he opened his eyes in the predawn light. -“Last night when I curled up here,” he said in a rasping whisper, “I -thought you had a good idea, sleeping on the ground.” - -Tim felt his poncho and his clothes. They were soaked with dew. - -Captain Kautz was already up, sitting on a keg outside the tent, -straining his eyes to take in every detail of the waking camp, already -thinking about the day that lay ahead. “We break camp now. The -transport moves with the morning tide.” He stood up. “I suppose we have -to set off a charge of powder by Dawson’s head to get him up.” - -Dawson came out of the tent and stared, silent and hostile, at Kautz’s -back. “Very funny, Captain,” he said, putting his hand to his head. - -The four men ate their rations of salt pork and hardtack and bitter -coffee. The companies formed in columns to march to the pier and board -a ferry that would take them across to Hilton Head. - -As they crossed Port Royal Sound the sky in the east was touched by the -light of dawn. A mist hung over the sea. The ferry coasted into the -landing and the soldiers were silent, watching the shore or staring -moodily at the deck, showing none of the spirit of the night before. -The troops waited by the big, gray sheds, built when the islands had -first been occupied. The men talked quietly and some of them realizing -that there would be a wait, took off their cartridge boxes and canteens -and stacked their rifles. - -The pier crossed a narrow strip of beach and jutted more than a hundred -yards into the water. A narrow-gauge railroad track ran out to the end -of the pier where a T-shaped float broadened the docking space. Two -large transports waited at the end of the pier, smoke trailing away -from their single funnels. Just ahead of them a smaller vessel was -being unloaded by half-a-dozen stevedores. Beyond the pier were the -masts and funnels of a score of other ships, the farthest ones dim in -the morning mist. - -Tim went forward to speak to Kautz. The captain turned. “The colonel -says dispense with roll call. No one will want to desert us here.” He -motioned toward the waiting transports and gestured toward a column of -men that waited on the pier. “We board the ship on the left,” he said. -“Company K will occupy the forward deck. We will occupy the stern.” - -Tim made his way back along the wall of one of the sheds. He found Red -no more cheerful than anyone else. Tim said, “At least we’re heading -north.” - -“I suppose there should be comfort in that.” - -Dawson stood close by. “North or south, it’s all the same to me,” he -said. “I want to see the last of these flea-ridden islands. I’d like to -be defending Beaufort. That’s the job for me. The boys in Beaufort sit -on verandas and rock all day.” - -Red smiled. “A veranda in New Haven would look good to me.” - -The branches of a spindly oak showed above the roof of the nearest -shed. The place was colorless and barren in the early morning light. - -Now the columns of soldiers began to move. - -A couple of Navy men dashed past on their way to their ship, holding -their little pie-shaped hats, their bell-bottomed trousers flopping -foolishly around their ankles. A soldier raised a little cheer and the -whole column took it up. One of the sailors blushed and quickened his -pace. - -Kautz and Dawson were waiting at the end of the pier. They motioned the -soldiers forward and directed them to climb the gangplank. - -As the men reached the deck they passed a solemn old sailor with a full -white beard. He watched them closely as one by one they stepped to the -deck, nodding to each in a silent gesture of mournfulness. - -The transport moved through the anchored fleet and into the channel. -She steamed east until she was well away from shore. When she was two -miles out she swung northeast, and some of the soldiers sought shelter -from the heat on the deck below or in the shadows of the boats. - -Tim leaned against the rail with Red, watching the distant shore. Close -by, the air seemed clear and the sun reflected on the water, but the -distance was shrouded in haze. - -Shortly after noon one of the lookouts gave a yell. A big, -black-bearded gunner shouted to his men, and they struggled up from -where they lounged with the soldiers on the deck. - -Two thirty-pound cannon were mounted near the stern, one on either -side. The gunner leaned on the starboard cannon and shielded his eyes, -looking into the mist that veiled the horizon. - -Tim strained his eyes, then clutched Red’s arm and pointed across the -crowded deck. “There she is!” - -A small, gray packet ghosted through the mist, about two miles off -their starboard bow. The transport swung to port and the soldiers were -ordered to stand clear. The gun crew went to work. They sponged and -rammed. The gunner grabbed a big pinch bar and crouched and moved the -gun around its track. He adjusted the screw to suit his judgment. When -the gun seemed ready the gunner sighted again along the barrel and gave -another wrench with the bar. Then he stepped aside and shouted, “Fire!” - -One of his gun crew jerked the lanyard, and the wooden deck trembled -as the cannon thundered and recoiled, straining against the breeching -tackle. The ball arched out of sight, and Tim imagined that he saw a -fleck of white where it hit the water short of its mark. - -Before the gunner could fire a second shot the packet had shown them -her stern and was lost in the mist. - -Red squinted into the distance. “She must have been a phantom surely. -She could hardly expect to run into Charleston in the afternoon. It -must be risky enough at night.” - -“She was probably due to arrive last night. She must have been delayed -somehow. She’s killing time until sundown.” - -The gunner heard Tim and nodded his head. “And now we’ll be on the -lookout for her.” He smiled. “But they’re slippery devils, sure enough.” - -[Illustration: The South Carolina Coast from Hilton Head to Charleston, -1863] - -As the transport approached Folly Island, Captain Kautz spread a map on -the deck. It showed the coast from Savannah to Charleston. Tim’s eyes -traced their course from Hilton Head past St. Helena, Edisto and Kiawa -to Folly Island, Lighthouse Inlet and Morris Island, which lay at the -entrance to Charleston Harbor. - -“We bivouac at the southwest end of Folly tonight,” Kautz said, drawing -a stubby finger across the map, “and tomorrow at dusk we march the -length of the island to the shore of Lighthouse Inlet. We will launch -our attack in small boats. Morris Island is a sparsely covered place.” - -The captain had things figured one, two, three. He straightened up with -his hands on his hips and looked toward Morris Island, as if he were -going to take a bite out of it with his even white teeth. “It shouldn’t -be more than one day’s work to clear the rifle pits and capture the -batteries along the shore. By Saturday night we’ll be cleaning our -rifles inside the fort.” - -Tim studied the map. Morris Island was shaped like a big pork chop, -the thin part curving north toward Fort Sumter. At the end of the thin -part, on Cummings Point, stood Battery Gregg. Guarding this narrow neck -of sand from land assault, Fort Wagner stretched from the ocean on the -east to a tidal creek on the west. - -As he and Red turned away from the map Tim said under his breath, “That -fort is in a strong position. I wish I shared the captain’s confidence.” - -Folly was a thin, sandy island stretching northeast like a crooked -finger. It was already garrisoned by Union forces. - -As the transport ran up Folly River the men could see the tops of -Yankee tents above the undergrowth. - -The troops disembarked at Pawnee Landing. They cut through a little -wood on a well-worn path and made their bivouac in a barren place not -far from the beach, close to another Yankee camp. - -They built no fires that night. Tim and Red, Dawson and Kautz sat -together breaking out their rations, glad for a chance to rest. Captain -Dawson turned to Kautz. “I wonder if the Rebels know what’s up?” - -“It won’t be long before they do.” - -Tim was impatient. “Why can’t we march tomorrow morning?” - -“We can boil up our rations and clean our rifles,” Dawson said. “We can -make good use of the extra time.” - -Red laughed. “If the boys clean their rifles a couple more times -they’ll wear the bores down smooth.” - -Dawson didn’t feel like joking. “Sea air is death to firearms,” he said. - -Kautz gave no sign of having heard. “We’ll have plenty of support for -our initial attack. We have a hidden battery on the shore of Lighthouse -Inlet. As soon as the enemy sees our boats our mortars will open fire.” - - - - -CHAPTER THREE - - -Just before sundown of the following day a corporal from General -Strong’s brigade came around and handed out squares of white cotton -cloth. The men were to sew them to the left sleeves of their blouses to -prevent mistakes if they should be attacked while they marched. - -At midnight came the sounds of quiet commands, the tinkle of buckles -and the creak of leather as the men made ready for the march. - -Tim’s men grouped around. Sergeant Fitch and Steele and the others -leaned on their rifles. - -“We don’t expect trouble tonight but we have to go quiet. General -Strong’s brigade is on our left. We’ll travel close to the beach, with -the Sixth Connecticut just behind.” - -Tim found marching a pleasant relief from the heat and boredom of the -day. The moon rose and traced its path across the sky. The breeze from -the ocean riffled the marsh grass and cooled the sand. They reached the -inlet well before dawn. - -Tim turned to Sergeant Fitch. “Fall out and be silent,” he whispered. -The boys sat around on the sand. - -Captain Kautz moved along the line. “Ten minutes to rest and then we -embark,” he said. “We cross the inlet and wait near shore for a signal -from Colonel Rodman’s boat. When we finally start for the beach, row -fast.” - -In the ghostly light the silhouetted figures fussed with the boats, -setting the oarlocks and putting in the oars. The boatloads departed -one by one. - -The boats were made of rough milled pine primed over with lead and oil. -Tim cautioned his men to step with care. “The bottom’s eggshell thin,” -he said. - -The men rowed silently across the inlet. Tim sat at the tiller in the -stern. - -They waited in the shelter of the grass-covered dunes, dipping their -oars so that the boats wouldn’t drift. Aside from the occasional plop -of a clumsy oar, there was barely a sound. Corporal Steele sat just -across from Tim, rowing and watching the rippling grass. “There must be -Rebels behind those dunes,” he whispered. “We’ll be sitting ducks if -they catch us here.” As he spoke the flat of his right oar smacked the -water. - -Tim whispered fiercely, “You’re doing your best to give us away.” - -The oarsmen rocked and dozed, dipping an occasional oar. Tim started to -worry. Suppose they’d been seen by a random picket as they’d crossed -the inlet, and suppose the picket had held his fire and reported the -presence of Yankee boats? If that had happened, every boat in the inlet -would be blown to bits in the first light of dawn. - -Tim combed the shore for signs of life, but there were none. The -lapping of the water against the boats and the distant whisper of the -sea were broken just once in that early morning vigil when a lone gull -rose with an urgent flapping, circled and rested again. - -As the rising sun blazed fire across the sky, flooding the sea with an -orange light, the silhouettes of the boats took form and shape. - -The silence was shattered by the opening shot. An eight-inch shell from -the Federal battery arched overhead and dropped into the Rebel camp. -The Confederates shouted and ran to their guns. The smoke from the -discharged gun twisted lazily in the morning air. Tim gripped the side -of his boat and watched through the haze for a sign from the colonel. - -Now the water was churned by shot and shell. A near miss doused Tim’s -boat, and the boys went pale. “Why the devil must we wait to move?” Tim -said out loud. - -A trickle of water ran down his cheek and into his mouth. He wanted to -shout the command himself. - -The Yankee battery fired again. The shell burst just behind a nearby -sand hill. A mass of gulls rose against the sun in a speckled cloud and -flew, squawking, toward the open sea. - -Now one of the boats was hit. The man in the stern rose from his seat, -swayed and toppled to the water in a trail of blood. Another was -wounded, and his screaming echoed across the water above the sound -of rifle fire and the yells of the Rebels on the shore. There was a -throbbing in Tim’s head. He could feel his temper rise. Now at last the -signal was given, the oarsmen bent to their work and the boats moved -toward shore. - -Kautz’s boat was one of the first to scrape the sand. He jumped out, -ranging up and down the beach like a fighting cock, urging the men to -move in fast. - -Tim’s boat landed just behind Kautz’s, with other boats following -closely. He jumped over the side and into the water and waded ashore in -a hail of bullets. - -Kautz said, “Hit the beach and start firing.” He knelt near Tim. “Half -a minute to get your breath, then move inland with your men and clear -the rifle pits. If you keep moving, the rest of the company will follow -right behind.” - -The other boats swarmed in to shore and the soldiers started jumping -out, holding their rifles high and dry. - -Sergeant Fitch and the other boys lay close to Tim, their faces -streaming and their chests heaving. Tim fingered his pistol. “A couple -more seconds, then we go.” He raised his hand. “Three yards apart. Keep -me in sight. Move in low and give them a lively target.” - -He moved fast to the crest of the nearest dune. The first line of rifle -pits had been deserted. The enemy camp was deserted too. It was strewn -with boots, canteens and other odds and ends. A cooking fire smoldered -on the sand. Tim and his boys moved past the tents. The Rebel garrison -must have been small. - -A cannon on the right was standing alone. Red and a squad of his men -moved in to swing it around. Tim ran forward to the second dune and -crouched to see what lay beyond. There was a line of rifle pits a -hundred yards or so away. Men peered anxiously over the sides. Tim -signaled to his men. Rising up in full view of the pits, he gave a yell -and ran a zigzag course, with Sergeant Fitch and Steele by his side. -The other men yelled and followed close on their heels. Neither Yankees -nor Rebels stopped to fire. The Rebels, outnumbered as they were, just -jumped the pits and scurried for the rear. - -One of the Rebels was very young. With youthful awkwardness he was -trying all at once to put on his shirt, hold his blouse and rifle, and -run for his life. As he ran his shirt streamed out behind. He dropped -his rifle and when he stopped to pick it up he dropped his blouse. When -the boy’s face turned toward his pursuers Tim raised his pistol as if -to shoot. The boy deliberately picked up his blouse and his rifle and -turned his back; he moved a few steps closer to the shelter of a dune. - -Tim signaled for his men to hold their fire. He lowered his pistol. -They watched the lad as he cut loose and sprinted like a rabbit for the -safety of the dune, his shirt still clinging to one of his arms and -streaming out behind. - -Tim looked back. The Federal force was moving forward in a solid line. -He scrambled up a knob of sand. Beyond him, over a waste of dunes, a -Rebel battery was just about to be deserted. Behind the cannon the -ground was dotted with soldiers in full retreat. - -The attackers paused to catch their breaths. Off to the right Red had -taken prisoners. He was giving orders to three of his men who were -acting as guards. He gestured and pointed toward the rear, then turned -his back on his prisoners, looking over the ground ahead. - -Tim and his boys moved forward again, this time so fast that they -caught a gun crew off its guard. Tim dropped behind a crescent-shaped -drift of sand, and edging forward, found himself staring straight into -the muzzle of a cannon--a parrot rifle not fifty yards beyond. Five of -the gun crew made themselves scarce, but two of the braver ones started -to empty their powder barrels. One of the men saw Tim and grabbed for -a rifle, but Tim brought up his pistol and fired. The Rebel winced and -grabbed his shoulder, dropping to the sand as the other man scurried -away. - -The fleeing man paused in the cover of a little valley and brought up -his rifle. Corporal Steele lay close to Tim, his rifle cradled easily -in his hands. He squeezed the trigger and the man pitched forward and -lay still on the sand. Then one of Steele’s hands left his rifle. He -reached into a hollow in the sand and brought out a speckled sea-gull -egg. Steele slipped the egg into his cartridge box and both men stood -up and moved toward the gun. - -Tim spoke to the man he had shot. “You hurt bad?” - -Blood had soaked through the man’s gray blouse. There were patience and -sadness in his face. “The war is finished for me now,” he said. - -Tim propped the man against the cannon and took up the chase again. - -The sun traveled across the hard blue sky as the Yankees moved along -the shore, taking gun after gun and turning them on men who had manned -them minutes before. - -About midday Tim paused with his men to drink from his canteen and eat -some hardtack and a ration of pork. - -As the Yankees closed on Wagner there was token resistance, but it was -clear that the Rebels would make their stand inside the fort. By late -afternoon the attackers had traversed the ridge and the last of the -coastal guns was theirs. Tim watched Kautz as Red and his men swung a -big seacoast howitzer around and discharged a shell that burst above -the heads of the retreating cannoneers. - -The advance was halted and Tim settled down for a rest. Captain Kautz -sat down close by. From where they rested, part of the fort could be -seen--a great sculptured mound of earth and sand. - -Kautz pointed to a bastion close to the sea, then motioned to the left. -“The other salient is just out of sight behind those little trees. -We’re told the fort holds three hundred men. The parapets are bristling -with artillery.” - -As if to accent what he had said, a shell from the fort arched high -across the sky and exploded short of its mark. The fire from the fort -was fitful now. The enemy was saving its fury for the Yankee assault. - -Kautz spoke again. “We’ll launch our attack at low tide. Just now the -tide is high. The strip of sand between the tidal creek and the sea -wouldn’t hold a company, much less a regiment.” - -Ships of the Federal Navy lay in a flat calm, just out of range of the -Confederate shore batteries. The masts of the ships of the coastal -blockade could be seen in the distance. - -“Looks as if we’ll have Naval support,” Tim said. - -“We’ll need support. As we sit here we’re well within range of the guns -at Sumter and the batteries across the channel on Sullivan’s Island.” -Kautz gestured toward the narrow neck of sand, the pathway to the fort. -“That beach will be a hell on earth when all the batteries open fire.” - -Sergeant Fitch came by. He smiled dryly and motioned toward the fort. -“That place is bulging with angry men.” He put a hand on his hip. “But -there’s one Rebel soldier who comes to my mind who might not find the -heart to shoot at all.” - -Blue uniforms covered the sand as far as the eye could see. Tim said, -“If numbers counted, we could take the place without a fight.” - -“That’s a pretty big ‘if,’ Lieutenant,” Fitch said. “Schoolboys with -slingshots could hold that fort.” - -“If we go in strong we’ll take the place,” Tim said. He turned away. - -He found Red by a little stream on the westerly side of the neck of -land. Red was stripped to the waist, dousing his hair and scrubbing his -beard with a piece of soap. - -Tim took him by surprise. “That beard would frighten the devil himself.” - -Red straightened up, grinning. - -A row of wounded lay on the sandy bank of the stream, waiting to be -taken to the rear. Tim noticed three gray blouses at the end of the -line. Two mounted officers rode along the crest of the hill above the -stream. A ferry service must have been set up to bring the horses and -wagons across from Folly. - -Red finished his washing and the two men moved up the hill. To their -left the tower of Charleston’s St. Michael’s Church was a knife of fire -in the light of the setting sun. - -When his boys had cleaned their rifles and settled for the night -Tim found a place close to the ocean, where he could be alone. A -waning moon climbed the dark blue sky, and the phosphor-lighted waves -that edged the mass of the open sea lapped gently against the shore -below. The black outlines of the ships of the Navy--the monitors and -gunboats--were etched against the hazy distance. He thought of a -springtime more than two years ago when he and Kate had sat on Lookout -Rock high above the river in the warmth and freshness of the sun, -letting their eyes wander over the morning haze, finding patches of -pine and green-gold willow trees. He remembered the sun striking the -river and the trailing smoke from a distant train. When he had seen the -train he had touched Kate’s hand. “Do you ever feel you’d like to bust -loose and sprout wings and fly to the ends of the earth?” - -Kate’s eyes had shone. “You make me feel that way.” - - - - -CHAPTER FOUR - - -It was dark when Tim opened his eyes, and for a moment he couldn’t -remember where he was. Then a passing horseman, giving orders, reminded -him of their position. Tim was conscious of the silent lines of men -stretching away to the rear, and he knew that sentries in the unseen -fort waited quietly in the darkness, straining their eyes toward the -Yankee pickets, wondering when the attack would come. Fear came to him, -then ebbed away. He knew that the hours ahead must be lived a minute at -a time. He got to his feet. - -Muffled voices sounded on the left and Sergeant Fitch came out of the -gloom. “General Strong and Colonel Rodman are up and about.” - -“Did you get some sleep?” - -“Not much. But most of the boys are dead to the world.” - -“Fitch, do you think the men are fit?” - -“Fit enough, I guess. But that new lad Greene, he worries me. He’s so -confounded young.” - -The colonel came along the line. “Turn the boys out. We have a job on -hand. We must have silence as we move to our picket line.” - -In the ghostly light the voices of the sergeants brought the boys to -life. Fitch’s voice came in a pleasant rumble. “Here, Steele, time to -get up. Up now, Bailey. Come along, Campana. That’s it, Greene. Time to -rise, lad, we have a job to do.” - -And from farther away came other voices. “On your feet, grab your -rifles, put on your boots.” - -The colonel’s aide ordered quiet, and the sounds died down to a -restless hum as the men clasped their belts around their waists, -grabbed their cartridge boxes and fixed their bayonets. - -Tim walked among his boys. Most of the faces were chestnut brown from -two years in the southern sun, but one face stood out white as chalk. -Tim stopped to talk to Private Greene. As he faced the boy he thought, -He’s just as I probably was two years ago. - -“Just keep moving,” Tim said in a quiet voice. “It’s dangerous to -falter.” - -They moved forward, keeping their line as straight as they could in -the dark. Just as Tim fancied he could pick out the shape of the fort -against the sky a Yankee picket stood in their path, raising his hand -in silent greeting. The order came to halt and rest. - -In the still, gray hours General Strong, with a yellow bandanna -fluttering at his neck, mounted on a big, stamping horse, moved along -the line. He paused near Sergeant Fitch and looked down at the men. -“Don’t stop to fire. Trust in God and give them the bayonet.” Then he -spurred his horse, and the man and the massive haunches of his charger -and the beast’s switching, whipping tail were swallowed by the gloom. - -Tim noticed that Private Greene stood close. - -“We move with caution till the enemy pickets open fire,” Tim said. -“Then we go in double quick. The Maine and Pennsylvania boys will come -in right behind.” - -The sand gave way with every step, and a lump of impatience grew in -Tim’s chest. - -As the soldiers advanced the ones on the right flank fell back so that -they wouldn’t be forced to walk in the ocean. - -A Rebel picket sent up an earsplitting yell, there was a warning -rifle shot, and the order came for the Yankees to charge. As Wagner’s -batteries opened fire the ground in front of the advancing soldiers was -churned by a stream of shot and shell. - -Tim drew his sword and raced forward, motioning for his men to follow. -The ground was covered with dead and dying, great shell holes loomed -suddenly in their path, and some of the men pitched headlong into the -yawning cavities. - -The figures of the charging men were punched in black against the -brilliance of enemy fire. As Tim moved into the choking, blinding haze -a shell hit close. The familiar bulk of Sergeant Fitch spun around, -suspended for a moment, then crumpled in a gesture of death. Fear cut -into Tim like a knife of ice. His knees were numb but he moved in a -crescendo of speed for the outer work, a soundless screaming tearing at -his throat. - -A dozen or so men had halted just behind the man-made ridge of sand. - -“Don’t stop to fire!” Tim yelled. - -In the light of the exploding shells he caught sight of Captain Dawson -just to the left. Dawson was rocking a man in his arms, rocking and -sobbing in a ghastly burlesque. Tim scrambled over to Dawson’s side. -The light of a following shell showed him that the man Dawson was -holding was dead. Tim wrenched the dead man free, grasped the front of -Dawson’s blouse and hit him full force in the face with the flat of his -hand. “Move on,” he shouted. - -Dawson shook his head in confusion and got to his feet. - -With the shriek of shells splitting his ears Tim grasped his sword and -dashed across the trembling sand toward the water of the moat where it -reflected the flashes of cannon fire. - -A wounded soldier lay at the water’s edge, struggling to rise. Tim -grabbed the man’s blouse and dragged him clear so that he wouldn’t -drown. - -As Tim straightened up he saw a half-familiar figure dashing toward him. - -“It’s Private Greene,” he said aloud. - -Together he and Greene dashed into the moat. Tim heard a splash. Greene -lay in the water, face down. Tim reached for the boy to pull him out -but Greene jumped up. “I’m alive. I only tripped,” he screamed. “Alive, -alive!” - -Tim choked down a desperate laugh as he rushed for the massive, sloping -bank of earth. Scrambling up the rutted parapet, he felt something -sharp prick the seat of his pants. He swung around and looked into the -dogged face of Private Greene. - -“Private Greene,” he said. “Watch what you do with that bayonet.” - -Daybreak was streaking the sky in the east. In the gathering light a -scattering of Yankees had dug in just below the crest of the parapet, -firing rapidly into the fort. The ground below the fort was peppered -with rifle and cannon fire. - -It was clear to Tim that the Federal ranks were threadbare. The -supporting regiments had dropped to the ground behind the outer work. A -shell hit a portion of the work, spraying sand into the air, picking -up men like jackstraws in a gale and sending them sprawling back to -earth. - -Tim whipped the air with his sword and shouted through the smoke and -noise, rallying his men. He slipped and scrambled to the crest where -the sandbags were stacked. He kept moving as he reached the crest, -half sliding, half jumping into the fort. He was blinded for a moment -by a thick cloud of acrid smoke that made him cough and choke. As the -smoke blew away he saw a Rebel sergeant straight in front of him and -cannoneers at either side. He lowered his sword. - -Off to the right a big voice commanded the sergeant, “Hold your -fire.” A Confederate lieutenant moved toward Tim, his pistol ready, a -broken-toothed smile cracking his leathery face. “A prisoner, sir.” - - - - -CHAPTER FIVE - - -Tim sheathed his sword. - -“Your sword and pistol,” the lieutenant said. - -Tim unbuckled his belt, slid off his bolstered pistol and held it -toward the man. “I’ll surrender my sword to the officer who commands -this battery,” he said. - -The lieutenant nodded. “As you wish it, sir,” he said, raising his -voice above the rattle of musket fire and pointing to a man who was -stripped to the waist and covered with grime and sweat. “There’s -Captain Chichester. Surrender your sword to him.” - -The Confederate captain turned as Tim walked toward him. The Captain -nodded respectfully. He reached for his pistol and handed it to a boy -not more than twelve years old who stood by his side. “Guard this -prisoner,” he said, “and mind you don’t shoot him by mistake.” - -Tim walked with the boy to a place near a bombproof shelter where empty -powder barrels were thrown helter-skelter on the sand. “I’ll sit on one -of these,” he said to the boy. “I’m tired.” - -The boy stood nearby, serious and manly, but frightened too. He -pointed the revolver at the ground and looked at it to be sure he knew -how it worked. With his chin down he looked back at Tim. - -Tim sat on the barrel, looking off through the smoke, the racket of -battle in his ears, the screaming of soldiers, the thunder of cannon -and the chatter of rifle fire. His spirit was chilled. Fitch was dead. -He wondered whether Red and Kautz were lying lifeless in the moat, -or were they prisoners too? He thought of the Rebel soldier he had -wounded, was it yesterday? The man had said, “The war is finished for -me now.” And now, Tim thought, the war is finished for me too. - -A huge siege gun was fired close by, shaking the earth and sending -a puff of acrid smoke rolling along the sandbags at the top of the -parapet, making the gunners cough and choke. All at once the firing -stopped, the last musket cracked. The smoke of the battle rose above -the fort and thinned as it was blown away. The sun filtered through the -gloom and there were voices in the silence, loud at first, then soft, -like the voices of schoolboys when the teacher comes into the room. - -Captain Chichester, his shirt draped loosely around his shoulders, -walked toward Tim through the thinning smoke. - -Tim stood up, reached for his sword and handed it to the captain. The -man’s sand-colored hair and eyebrows were dusted with powder that ran -in streaks down his tanned face. His blue eyes reflected a sleepless -night and a morning of battle. “No cause for Yankee shame today,” he -said. - -The powder monkey stood by his captain now, handing him his pistol, -looking up at his face. - -Tim looked toward the big guns. “Captain,” he said, “I wonder if I -could see the field beyond the parapet?” - -The captain lowered his eyes. “It’s a heartbreaking sight,” he said, -and he raised his eyes and held Tim’s gaze, as if he wished he could -say more. - -The two men walked toward the parapet, the boy tagging along behind. -The Rebel soldiers gawked, and one big sergeant spat hard on the -blackened sand. - -“Save your spit for the next assault,” the captain said with a look of -towering disgust. As they reached the gun he turned to Tim. “There’s an -armistice in effect,” he said, “to give your men a chance to carry off -the wounded and bury the dead. The boy and I will stay back here. I’ve -seen enough today.” - -Tim moved up beside a gun and looked across the plain. The dusky, -shadowy world of early morning had given way to a sunlit day. There -were no shellbursts or knifelike tongues of flame--just silence and the -litter of death, scattered in terrible profusion on the sand. - -Under a flag of truce ambulances moved along the beach, hurrying to -gather up the wounded before they were claimed by the incoming tide. A -surgeon who was working at the edge of the moat signaled to a driver. -“Here’s one alive,” he called. An ambulance creaked and rattled to -where the man lay. The surgeon and the driver lifted the wounded man -gently into the canvas-covered vehicle. - -With sickening dread Tim’s eyes moved across the distance, studying the -men who lay on the sand. He fancied he saw a red-haired officer lying -in the distance with his feet to the sun, but he couldn’t be sure. Men -lay at the base of the parapet, almost covered by the waters of the -moat which was fed by the ocean tides. Tim suddenly wondered what had -happened to Private Greene. - -He looked once more across the plain at the dead and broken and dying. -Then he turned to the captain and the boy who stood by his side. - -“There are other prisoners waiting by the sally port,” Chichester said. -He looked down at the boy. “Billy Moore will show you the way.” - -“Thank you for your courtesy, sir.” - -“What is your name?” - -“Lieutenant Bradford, Seventh Connecticut Volunteers.” - -“Maybe we’ll meet again on a happier day,” the captain said. He turned -and walked away with two swords swinging and rattling at his side. - -As Tim followed the boy past the bombproof the boy spoke. “All Yankees -aren’t bad,” he grinned, “but most are devils, sure enough.” - -“You come from Charleston, lad?” - -“I come from Beaufort, sir,” he said with a sudden frown. “It was the -Yankees chased us away.” - -They left the shadow of the bombproof and walked through the sally -port, and there, guarded by half-a-dozen men, were forty or fifty -Yankee captives. There was Dawson, hatless, with his corn-colored hair -shining in the sun, his face like death. An ugly welt ran across his -cheek. - -One guard laughed when he saw the unarmed boy with the tall Yankee. -“Big fish this time, little Billy,” he rasped. “Give him over to me.” - -Tim nodded to the boy and went to Dawson. “Glad to see you still -alive,” he said. - -Dawson looked sullenly at Tim. “I’m tired,” he said with bitterness. -“I’m glad to be out of it, if you want to know the truth.” - -“Any word of Kelly or Captain Kautz?” - -“None that I know of.” - -A big Rebel sergeant moved close to them with studied ease and snapped, -“That’s enough talking. You’ll have plenty of time to talk in jail.” - -Tim thought, If Red is dead I’ll visit his wife and child when I get -home. But I pray to God he lives. - - * * * * * - -Off to the east thunderheads were piling up, and a stiff breeze sprang -up. - -A rusty steamer came puffing and wallowing across the choppy waters and -made fast to the pier just to the west of the Confederate battery at -Cummings Point. - -As the prisoners clattered along the pier Tim wondered if the flimsy -structure would hold them all. It creaked and groaned as one by one the -men jumped to the heaving deck. - -As Tim stood by the rail he caught sight of a familiar face. “Private -Greene,” he said. - -Greene turned a happy face and worked his way behind the crowd of men -along the rail. Tim clasped the boy’s hand. “Glad to see you, lad.” - -Greene just smiled. - -“Have you seen Lieutenant Kelly or Captain Kautz?” - -“No, Lieutenant.” - -As the steamer moved away from the shelter of land it was lifted by -swells that swept in from the open sea. The little ship rolled and -tossed and smacked the waves, sending up sheets of spray and wetting -the men who were wedged along the rails. It seemed to Tim she was -carrying too many men. - -“If we make it to Charleston I’ll be surprised.” - -Greene smiled shyly. “Let’s mutiny,” he said, “and sail to Boston on -the afternoon tide.” - -Suddenly there was a commotion near them at the rail and one of the -prisoners jumped over the side. Tim saw the flash of a shirt then he -saw a boy swimming and drifting swiftly astern. He said, “What chance -does he think he has?” - -A guard dashed out of the wheelhouse onto the shuddering deck. He -raised his rifle and fired. Greene gritted his teeth and clenched his -fists in a helpless fury as he watched the head of the struggling boy. -“For the love of mercy, why don’t they give him a chance?” - -Two shots followed the first, but the boy’s head still bobbed above -the water. The fourth shot hit its mark. One of the swimmer’s hands -thrashed weakly for a moment and he dipped below the surface, leaving a -slick of blood to mark the place where he had disappeared. - -Greene’s face was pale. He quivered with rage and fear. He stared -transfixed and then, with a convulsive shudder, leaned over the rail -and was sick. Tim put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and looked across -the water at the stretch of beach that led to the mouth of the creek -and the freedom of the Yankee lines. - -The steamer made straight for Sumter. The fort stood like a block of -granite in the harbor’s mouth, the sea dashing against the outer walls. - -Now the sky was solid lead, washed across with moving clouds. The -steamer nudged Fort Sumter’s wharf. The sailors looped the hawsers -around the pilings, the sergeant of the guard leaped to the dock and -was admitted to the fort. The steamer creaked and groaned against the -pilings and Tim leaned on the rail with Greene beside him, looking up -at the silent gray walls. - -The sergeant walked back along the pier with his head down and his arms -swinging at his sides. - -As the steamer moved toward Charleston, leaving the silent gun ports in -its wake, Tim noticed a flag at the top of the pole inside the fort. It -snapped in the stiffening breeze, its colors sharp against the flat, -gray sky. I wonder, he thought, how long that flag will fly? - -The harbor was dotted with the sails of fishing boats seeking shelter -from the coming storm. The city of Charleston was strung across the -horizon, her rose-brick and white-walled buildings like spots of color -in a child’s painting, her church towers standing high above the piers -and parks and the houses that lined the waterfront. Off to the right, -masts and spars and a complex of shrouds marked the wharves on the -eastern shore of the peninsula. - -Greene’s voice barely rose above the thump of the paddle wheels. “Where -are they taking us, do you suppose?” - -“There’s a jail in Charleston,” Tim said, “and others scattered -throughout the South.” - -“Are the stories of Rebel prisons true?” - -“I’ve never been in a Rebel jail,” Tim said. “There’s always hope of -being exchanged. The Confederacy can’t afford to have her soldiers -wasting away in Northern prisons.” - -Tim watched Greene’s face. “Promise me something, will you, Greene?” - -“What would that be, Lieutenant?” - -“Promise me if you try to escape you’ll pick a time when you have a -fair chance.” - -Greene spoke earnestly. “I wasn’t thinking of escape just yet. I’ll -have to see the prison first. I’ll have to think on it a while.” - -Tim laughed. “I’ll waste no more of my worry on you.” - -The little steamer swung slowly around as it maneuvered to move toward -one of Charleston’s piers. Now in the moment before the storm Tim saw a -little island at the mouth of the river. Part of the island was struck -by sunlight. On the sandy shore three men struggled to beach a boat, -their figures distinct in the slice of light. - -There was a sudden gust of wind and the rain sluiced down, blotting -out the little scene. It streaked down the faces of the prisoners and -ran down their collars. At first it seemed a blessed thing, but as it -drenched the men on the deck Tim stared across the flat, gray water -whipped by rain, and a cold apprehension took root in his heart. - -As the little steamer docked the rain stopped and the clouds blew -away. The prisoners marched with their guards along the wharf, across -a glistening cobbled street to a shedlike building that faced the -waterfront. A short, sunny-faced woman came out and spoke to the -sergeant of the guard. “We didn’t have much warning,” she said. “You’ll -have to give us a minute or two.” - -The sergeant frowned and mumbled something. Then the woman raised her -chin and looked down the line of men, wet and disconsolate in their -dirty uniforms. “Well, you’ll have to wait,” she said. Without pausing -for an answer she went inside. - -Tim stood on the cobbles and studied the row of fine brick houses that -faced the river. This was the first time in months that he had stood -on a street and looked at houses where people dined and slept, where -children were born and raised. - -The sunny-faced woman came out again, followed by others carrying trays -of coffee and slices of buttered bread on squares of white paper. As -the women moved among the men Greene straightened up and lowered his -chin and brushed his cheek with the back of his hand. - -“They’re just like the ladies of Philadelphia,” Tim said, “who served -us goodies two years ago.” - -One of the women, dark haired and young, turned to him. “Need is need, -wherever it may be,” she said with a sweet, sad smile. - -Tim noticed how graceful she was in her starched white dress and pale -blue shawl. She was so much like Kate that he felt his knees go weak. -As she turned away he was filled with a yearning for home, a longing to -sit on his horse and ride along the river road underneath the sunlit -leaves until Kate’s house came into view. - -When the women had disappeared into the building again the Rebel -sergeant slapped the stock of his rifle. “Quiet,” he said. “Now we -march to the railroad depot.” - -They marched through the streets and alleys lined by houses, sometimes -neat and tidy, sometimes deserted and forlorn. There were gardens -filled with summer flowers still in bloom, palmetto trees along the -sidewalk, dark green painted doors with knobs and knockers of polished -brass. People leaned on their windowsills to watch the passing -prisoners. Some of them hissed or spat. Others watched with expressions -of compassion or concern. A scattering of ragged children ran ahead -of the prisoners, spreading the word that they were on the way. They -rounded a corner and walked along a wide cobbled street where most -of the houses were of the “single style,” narrow at the front, with -piazzas facing lawns and gardens at the sides. - -People were gathering on the sidewalks, and as the prisoners approached -St. Michael’s church the crowd grew thick, surged from under the -portico and broke into catcalls and jeers. The soldiers of the Rebel -guard flashed their bayonets and drove the people back. Most of the -prisoners walked straight and proud. Tim set his jaw and stiffened his -back but he couldn’t stop the trembling in his knees. - -A gang of little boys dodged around the pillars of the church and one -of them skittered through the crowd, made a face and flapped his hands -like donkey ears. He reached into his pocket and brought out a tomato. -Tim saw the boy’s arm arch back as he took deliberate aim. The love -apple caught the Rebel sergeant just over his ear. The sergeant moved -to catch the boy. - -“I was aiming at a Yank,” the little fellow screamed as he dashed -behind the skirts and capes that lined the street. - -People in the crowd began to laugh, the women first, and then the men. -The sergeant’s face turned red, and even Yankee snickers turned to -laughs. Then there was silence. The laughter of the Yanks had made the -joke go sour. - -As they moved along the middle of the street, carriages and wagons -pulled aside to let them pass. The drivers turned hostile faces on the -men in blue. - -Tim brushed past the bright red wheels of a gleaming carriage and for -a moment he looked into the face of a woman in the back seat. She was -about his mother’s age and dressed in black. Her face was beautiful and -filled with sadness. - -Now the urchins who followed the prisoners were joined by others led -by a dark-haired older boy. They screamed and taunted. They threw -pebbles as they surged along the sidewalks and into the street ahead -of the prisoners’ line of march. The sergeant of the guard was flushed -with anger. When the leader of the gang began to taunt the prisoners -the sergeant grasped the boy’s collar, tearing the shirt right off his -back. “Next time I’ll give you the bayonet,” the sergeant said. - -The boy grabbed his shredded shirt from the dirty stones and ran -ahead with his gang behind him to the shelter of a narrow street. The -sergeant and the other guards watched as they passed the street. All -at once the boys appeared again and pelted the column with stones. A -mean-faced Rebel corporal was hit in the leg, and he and the sergeant, -with another guard, dashed after the boys as they scattered like -quicksilver into the alleys and doorways of the dingy street. - -Greene’s face showed his excitement as the column was left with just -one guard. Tim grabbed Greene’s arm. “This is no time to think of -escape. Charleston is a cul-de-sac. They could seal off this peninsula -easier than closing a cracker box.” - -Greene relaxed. “Never even crossed my mind,” he said with a smile. - - - - -CHAPTER SIX - - -The prisoners were shouted to a halt beside a two-story depot with -a turreted top and moss-covered walls. An old man poked his head -out of one of the upper windows and glared at the sergeant through -steel-rimmed spectacles. “Sit them down,” he squawked. “The train won’t -be here for quite a spell. Just got it over the telegraph.” - -“Where’s the Home Guard, granddaddy? We want to get back to the -barracks for dinner.” - -“They’re with the train,” the old man said and shut the window. - -In front of the building three Negro women had set up shop. They sat on -the steps, their bright cotton dresses, straw hats and shawls gleaming -in the sun, oranges and yams and figs and shrimp in baskets and wooden -bowls ranged around their feet. “Gentlemen, buy here!” one of them -called. “Fruits and vegetables, molasses cakes. We still have tobacco -and a few cigars.” - -The Rebel sergeant loosened his collar and slung his rifle over his -shoulder. “Buy if you have money,” he said to the prisoners, “but stay -on the platform. We’ll shoot the first man who wanders. We’ve had -enough running for today.” - -The sergeant walked past the colored women, up the steps and through -the depot door. - -Greene looked at the food. “I could eat it all,” he gulped. - -“We’d better buy what we can and save what we can,” Tim said. “We may -have to make it last a while.” - -The prisoners clustered around the women. Tim noticed Dawson eating and -stuffing his pockets with food. The woman in the center was big and -fat. She was wreathed in smiles. “We give you good exchange,” she said, -“five Confederate dollars to one greenback for Yankee gentlemen.” - -Tim bought some yams and molasses cakes, and Greene cradled five big -oranges in the crook of his arm. - -The mean-faced Confederate corporal yelled, “Fall in at the center of -the platform where I can keep my eyes on you.” - -The prisoners drifted away from the bright little island of smiling, -brown-skinned women and did as they were told. - -Greene fumbled for his money and paid for his oranges. As he slipped -his wallet into his pocket one of the oranges fell to the platform and -rolled toward the track. He chased the orange, clutching the others -against his blouse. Tim had pocketed his food and he started toward -the orange as it rolled to the edge of the platform. The Confederate -corporal watched the orange with cold indifference as it bumped onto -the track. Greene scrambled after it. Suddenly the corporal swung -his rifle around and caught Greene in the side with the point of his -bayonet. - -The wounded boy cried out in pain, the other oranges dropped from his -grasp and bumped and rolled onto the roadbed, bright spots against the -stones. - -Greene crumpled to the ground, holding his side, gasping and sucking -for breath. - -Tim’s eyes blazed fury. “Why, you damned fool,” he said. He turned his -back to the corporal and knelt beside Greene. - -The sergeant appeared from the shadow of the doorway. “Corporal,” he -rasped, “we’ve had enough trouble today without you doing a thing like -that.” - -The color drained from the corporal’s face. “Just doing what you told -us,” he choked, “getting the Yankees back in line.” - -The fat woman dropped to her knees and wailed, “Lord have mercy on us -all. That boy didn’t mean no harm.” - -The sergeant turned on the woman. “Shut your face. You better do your -selling some place else.” - -Tim loosened the boy’s clothing, exposing the white flesh and the ugly -mouth-shaped wound. - -The sergeant squatted. “That’s nothing to worry about.” He reached into -his haversack. “We’ll bandage it and they’ll dress it proper when you -get to your jail.” - -“Where are we going, Sergeant?” Tim asked. - -“I’m not supposed to say.” - -“How long a ride is it?” Tim asked evenly. - -“Three or four hours I guess.” - -Tim stood up slowly. “This man needs a doctor now.” - -“My commanding officer would give me the devil if he knew about this.” - -Tim clenched his fists. “Greene needs care. He needs it now.” - -The sergeant wavered. “The train ...” he said. - -“The train be damned, Sergeant. Stabbing this boy was an act of -cruelty. If you send him to a prison in the shape he’s in, I’ll find a -way to let your commanding general know.” - -Greene was breathing heavily. He had lost a lot of blood. It had soaked -his trousers and formed a little pool on the ground. “Don’t bother, -Lieutenant,” he whispered. “I can make the trip.” - -Tim looked coldly into the Sergeant’s eyes. “Well, Sergeant?” - -The sergeant turned to the corporal. “Leave your rifle with me,” he -said. “Bring a baggage wagon around from the back. You can drive the -Yankee to the hospital. If he dies, it’s on your head.” - -“But ...” the Rebel corporal whined. - -“But nothing. I’ve had enough of you.” - -Greene looked up at Tim. “I’d rather stay with you, Lieutenant.” - -“You can’t do that. You’ll be better off in a hospital. If your wound -had been higher, you might have been killed, but it’s just in the flesh -of the hip. If it’s properly dressed, you’ll be well in a week or two.” - -The colored women were gathering up their bowls and baskets and getting -ready to move away. The prisoners watched in silent anger as the -corporal brought the wagon around and reined the horse to a stop. - -Tim and the sergeant lifted Greene gently to the wagon floor, and -Tim touched the boy’s sleeve. “You’re a brave lad, Greene,” he said -quietly. Greene smiled and turned his face away. - -As the wagon squeaked and rattled off, the sergeant turned to Tim. -“Gather up the boy’s oranges, if you’re a mind to,” he said. - -Tim stepped off the platform and leaned down to pick up the oranges. -The other prisoners sat along the wall of the building. Tim stuffed the -oranges into the bulging pockets of his blouse and settled himself on -the heavy, splintering planks of the baggage platform. He watched the -wagon disappear into the dusty distance and then stared down at the -backs of his hands, tanned and moist and heavily veined. - -He thought of Greene and his other men. With a flash of fear he thought -of Red. He studied the row of prisoners, looking for a familiar face, -and there--turning toward him as if at a signal--was Dawson’s. The eyes -of the two men met and Dawson turned away. - -Tim looked along the length of track. The ribbons of steel reflected -the blinding sun as they converged in the shimmering distance. He -nodded sleepily but his ear caught a sound. A column of men moved along -the street, thinly veiled by a cloud of dust. As they came closer Tim -could see that their clothes were in tatters and they were pitifully -thin. Some of them wore slouch hats and some of them straws. On poles -that rested on their shoulders they carried their belongings: rusty -pots and pans and bits of clothing, a three-legged chair and a couple -of homemade tables. When the column halted Tim looked closely. He was -shocked to see that two of the scarecrows wore dark blue forage caps -and that a barefooted man had a tattered Federal blouse tucked into his -belt at the back. They must be Yankee soldiers captured many months ago. - -Their faces were sunken and vacant. They put down their rattling, -tinkling poles and settled against the wall near the far corner of the -building. - -Tim felt a little sick. He turned his eyes away and rested his head in -the flats of his hands and went to sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER SEVEN - - -The shriek of a whistle brought Tim to his senses. He was steeped in -sweat and he shook his head and blinked at the train as it backed -slowly toward him, its bell clanging, its wheels singing and screeching. - -Six freight cars and a caboose made up the train. Up forward the stack -of the engine stood high above the cars, belching smoke and sparks. -Along the tops of the cars the ragged men and boys of the Home Guard -stood with their muskets held loosely in their hands. On the platform -at the back of the caboose stood a grisled old man with a pistol thrust -into his belt. Beside him was a man, apparently young, in a soiled -Confederate uniform, a slouch hat shading his face. As the train -stopped, Tim could see that the young Confederate’s face was nothing -but an expressionless scar. - -It wasn’t long before another column of men came into sight. They were -all in Yankee uniform, and as they marched out of the shadow Tim’s -heart skipped a beat. At the head of the column, hatless and with his -blouse thrown open, marched Red. There was life in his stride. His -hair blazed in the sun and he held his bearded chin at a jaunty angle. -Alongside Red walked Kautz with a snappy military air. - -Tim could feel the thumping of his heart. He got to his feet, dizzy -with sleep and fatigue. He jumped off the platform and waved to Red. -Red broke ranks as the column halted. “Timmy,” he said, “I knew you -were alive but I didn’t know when we’d meet again.” - -Captain Kautz smiled and held out his hand. “Good to see you, -Lieutenant,” he said. - -The platform was crowded with prisoners. The guards began to shout, -“Form ranks, get back in line” but the men just stood and talked. - -A shout like the bellow of a bull broke through the talk. There was -sudden quiet, and with a broken-toothed smile showing through his -snow-white beard the old man on the back platform of the caboose said, -“Bluebellies, you’re in my charge now.” He took off his gray slouch hat -and bowed his white head in mock respect. “When a prisoner steps out of -line my men will shoot to kill. My sergeant here will stand by one car -at a time and count thirty men into each. Now get to your feet.” - -The old man jumped to the platform and strode down the line until he -saw the derelict prisoners with their pots and pans and furniture. -Some of them were leaning against the wall and others were lying on -the platform in the sun. He bellowed again and the derelicts stared -like sick rats at a ravening dog. Slowly they got to their feet. “Proud -Yankee bucks,” the old man sneered. - -The emaciated prisoners reached for the poles that held their -belongings. - -“What the hell is this?” the old man screamed, frightening one of his -charges so that he dropped the end of a pole, letting his belongings -clatter to the stones. “You can’t take your junk on the train.” - -The men stood silent and timid in the sun. In a treacly voice that -could barely be heard the old man said, “Just leave your stuff here and -bring up the rear.” - -“Filthy, bullying pig,” Tim said between his teeth. - -Then his anger waned and he turned to Red. “I thought I’d never see you -alive again.” - -Red kept his voice low as the old man passed close to them. “A -Confederate captain told us you were still alive.” - -Red moved closer to Tim. “Captain Kautz has a plan of escape,” he -whispered. “It was just to be the two of us. I imagine you’ll want to -be coming too.” - -Tim raised his brows. “That’s why you marched in here happy as a raw -recruit.” - -The old man stood on the platform, his pistol in his hand. “No talking -in the ranks,” he ordered. “Move forward and be counted in.” - -“Stick together from now on,” said Kautz in a tight-lipped whisper. He -looked sharply at Tim. “We jump from the train. I give the sign.” - -They were the last to be counted into the car ahead of the caboose. As -they approached the door Tim held his breath as the scar-faced sergeant -counted, “Twenty-six, twenty-seven....” And Red was twenty-eight. - -The guards kept their places on the tops of the cars. All the doors on -the opposite side of the train were shut and probably locked. - -As the prisoners climbed into the car the smell of cow dung and urine -struck them full in the face. The last ones in sat near the open door. - -Tim’s head ached and he was stiff in every joint, but as he leaned -against the boards of the cattle car with Kautz on his right and Red -on his left he smiled to himself. Friends, that’s what a man needs, he -thought. It’s going it alone that makes it tough. - -Kautz turned to Tim. “I’ve studied maps,” he whispered, slapping a -slight bulge in the lower part of his blouse. “I thought about capture -before we attacked the fort.” - -Tim glanced at Kautz and for a moment he couldn’t believe his ears. -Kautz had never shown the slightest doubt that they would take the fort. - -“On this train,” he heard Kautz say, “we will probably head for -Columbia. If so, we jump south of the city. We might branch west toward -central Georgia. If we do that, I’m for jumping as soon as we see our -chance. In either case, our objective would be Eastern Tennessee. If we -should head south along the coast, we jump near Beaufort.” - -Kautz looked around the car and leaned close to Tim. “The giving of -the signal will depend on the position of the guards, the degree of -darkness and other things.” His whisper became a hiss. “We will be -taking great risks, in any case. I will go first, then Kelly, then you.” - -The sergeant looked into the car. His skin was mottled purple and pink -and white, scarred so badly that his face could express no emotion. -When he talked the glistening skin crinkled dryly around his mouth. His -voice came soft and deep. “We have to put three more men in here,” he -said with something that sounded like regret, “but I’ll keep the door -open if you behave yourselves. In this country,” he said, “escape is -foolish. Don’t forget that.” He clamped his jaw shut and moved along to -inspect the other cars. - -Three of the derelicts crawled into the car and collapsed like -half-empty sacks of meal. - -While Kautz had been talking Red had sagged and fallen asleep. “I’ve -had a little sleep,” Tim said to Kautz, “you sleep now and I’ll stand -watch for an hour or so.” - -“Fine,” Kautz said. He rested his beard on his chest and went to sleep. - -Tim smiled to himself. He even sleeps efficiently, he thought. As he -smiled his eye was caught by the gaze of one of the derelicts. The man -stared into Tim’s face with vacant, luminous eyes. Tim took three of -Greene’s oranges out of the pocket of his blouse and held them toward -the man. “You’re hungry,” he said. “One of these for each of you might -help.” - -The man’s emaciated hands shot out, grasped two of the oranges and -clutched them to his body. He reached for the other with something in -his pitiful face that made Tim draw the third orange back. “One to -each,” he said. - -The man’s lower lip quivered. He grasped the oranges and turned his -back and started to claw at one of them. Another derelict saw his -chance, plucked the other orange from the man and tore at the skin with -his teeth. He sucked and bit as the juice ran down his tattered shirt. - -The train whistle gave a sudden, piercing shriek and the cars bumped -together with violent jerks. The third Yankee derelict, a boy still -in his teens, opened his eyes. Tim leaned over and handed him the -third orange. He took it silently, turned it around and around as if -it were a ball of gold--as if spending the wealth would take some -thought. He put up his knees to make a shield, and with his thumb and -forefinger gently peeled off the first strip of skin ... and the second -... and the third. When the orange was peeled he quartered it and ate -deliberately, gasps of pleasure punctuating every gulp. - -Now the shouts of the guards and the roaring, cracking voice of the -captain rang along the platform, and the train moved slowly forward. -The door on the right was left half open. - -Tim watched the shadow of the train as it moved along beside the -tracks. It must be past noon. Was it this morning they’d attacked the -fort? - -The train jerked and stopped. With a squeaking and clanking of tortured -couplings it started again and gathered speed. Warehouses and sheds -flicked by in a blur, like bits of faded glass in a kaleidoscope. - -As the train left the city by the sea the landscape was flat, dotted -with brown-leaved little trees and tall pines with trunks which reached -high and bare before they branched into thickly needled clusters. Once -when the train slowed down for a moment the face of one of the guards -hung upside down from the roof of the car, then disappeared again. - -As they rattled through the countryside Tim was the only one in the car -who stayed awake. The train swayed and rocked across huge swamps filled -with trees with swollen roots, their branches dripping with Spanish -moss. The pungent odor of stagnant water and rotting wood mixed with -the smell in the cattle cars. - -Tim’s senses dimmed. His head dipped and came up again. He pinched -himself, stood up and steadied himself against the door frame of the -car. - -Kautz’s head snapped up. “Have we changed direction?” - -Tim sat down. “No,” he said. “I judge by the sun that we’re still going -roughly northwest.” - -“How long have we been on the road?” - -“About half an hour.” - -“No chance for Beaufort now,” Kautz said. “They’re taking us to Georgia -or Columbia. There’s a place called Branchville just ahead. If we fork -right, it will be Columbia. I hope that’s what we do. My maps don’t -cover much of Georgia. Then there’s the matter of getting help. We -can’t get to our lines without some help. They say there are Unionists -in North Carolina and Tennessee.” - -“Then we go north, no matter what.” - -“It looks that way,” Kautz said. “Get some rest, Lieutenant. I’ve had -enough sleep.” - - - - -CHAPTER EIGHT - - -The train jerked to a stop, and after a spasm or two was still. Tim -groaned and opened his eyes, got up, and stretched and poked his head -into the blinding light outside the car. The crack of a pistol sounded -in his ears. A bullet sang past his head and dug into the side of the -wooden car. He ducked back into the car, feeling the blood drain away -from his face. Slowly he sat down again on the floor of the car. - -“Damned maniacs!” said Kautz. - -The old man’s voice sounded just outside the car. “Another word like -that and I’ll shoot every bluebelly on this train.” He pointed his -pistol at Kautz’s head. “And I’ll start with you, Yankee Captain.” - -Red looked up sleepily. “Who was doing the shooting?” - -“The captain of the guard,” Tim said. “He nearly hit me in the head.” - -They stared out at the settlement beside the tracks. A skinny horse was -tethered to a lone pine tree. There were one or two white wooden houses -and a chicken shed. A pig ran into view, going in circles, pursued by a -boy of nine or ten. The animal moved with great speed. He and the boy -dropped from sight and appeared again, this time farther away. The boy -dove at the pig and they tumbled in a cloud of dust. He got up, holding -the animal, and took him, wiggling and squirming, to his pen. - -When the train left Branchville it was clear that they were heading -for Columbia. They were going north. The countryside was hilly now. -The swamps gave way to meadows and copses, small farmhouses and cotton -fields. They passed through a stand of trees, and in the blur of -foliage Tim thought, If a man jumped here, he’d be sliced to ribbons by -the trees. - -As evening came on and the light grew dim Tim noticed that Kautz was -edging toward the door. Kautz’s face was tense as he watched the -blackening landscape and deep blue sky. Now the wheels beat a slower -tattoo and the whistle shrieked. There was a different sound as the -train rumbled onto a rickety trestle. Kautz reached out and touched -Tim’s arm. “Soon,” he whispered. - -Tim shook Red’s shoulder to be sure he was awake. “Captain Kautz says -soon.” - -Red lifted his head. “Any time,” he said, crawling past Tim so he could -follow Kautz. - -Kautz crouched tensely by the door. The train droned across the -trestle. Tim thought, Kautz must plan to jump when we get to the other -side. - -Suddenly Kautz reared back and sprang from the train, and Red crouched -to follow him. - -Tim reached out, grabbed Red’s blouse and pulled him back. “We’re over -water and you can’t swim,” he yelled. - -Above the rumble of the train they heard a shot from the caboose and -a yell, and then another shot that echoed against the surface of the -Congaree. Tim looked wildly toward the door. Our chance is gone for -now, he thought. The rumble stopped as the train reached solid ground -again and passed into a wooded area. - -The prisoners began to stir. “Did someone get away?” asked a timid -voice. - -There was a buzz of talk as the train creaked to a stop and the guards -climbed down from the cars. The old man was furious. “Did someone -escape from this car?” he screamed, his figure silhouetted menacingly -in the open doorway. There was silence. - -The old man spoke to the guards who stood in the twilight along -the tracks, “Guards ride inside the cars,” he called in a fury of -frustration. “Fix your bayonets and use them at will. No guard sleeps -until we reach Columbia. If another prisoner gets away, you all better -start to say your prayers.” - -The feet of the guards scraped along the gravel. They moved to -the doors and hoisted themselves into the cars. A skinny boy and -a middle-aged, heavy-set man climbed into Tim’s car and settled -themselves against the left-hand door. - -The old man went down the line and slid all the doors shut. He shouted -to the guards, “If you see a crack of light, strike out with your -bayonet. If any guard sleeps I’ll have him shot.” - -As the train moved forward it seemed to Tim that the heat in the car -had already risen ten degrees. He leaned toward Red. “Do you think -Kautz got away?” - -“Sure he did. The water was high,” Red said, “and you’d be with him if -it wasn’t for me.” - -“We’ll have our chance,” Tim said. - -As the train moved through the night the air in the car became -unbearable. The middle-aged guard stumbled forward and slid the door -half open. “We have to get some air,” he said, “but you all stay clear -of the door.” - -Tim breathed more easily now. The sky was soft and deep, and the stars -touched the crests of the rolling hills with a faint, unearthly light. -Tall pines were etched against the blue, and occasionally the light of -a lamp marked a beckoning square in the dark outline of a house. - -The train moved through the night, its headlamp sending a feeble light -along the rails, its firebox glowing orange, the smoke from the engine -streaming behind. - -In the caboose the old captain laid his pistol on the table and fanned -out his playing cards. He frowned at the scar-faced sergeant who sat -across from him. - -In the other cars the prisoners slept and the guards struggled to stay -awake. - - * * * * * - -When Tim woke, the train had stopped but he could hear the engine’s -slow, metallic puffing sounds and the guards talking outside the cars. -He couldn’t remember where he was and in a sudden panic he reached out -in the dark and put his hand on someone’s arm. - -He heard Red’s voice. “That you, Tim?” - -“Yes.” - -“If they don’t let us out of here, I’m afraid I might be sick.” - -Tim reached into the pocket of his blouse and brought out a couple of -blackstrap molasses cakes. “Eat one of these.” - -Red took the leathery cake and mumbled thanks. - -The door of the railroad car slid open. Tim breathed deeply. - -The old man’s voice rose above the others. “Get out of the cars.” - -The prisoners climbed stiffly from the cars and formed loose ranks -along the platform. “This place smells like an orchard in early -spring,” Tim said. - -“A sinkhole would smell like heaven after that trip.” - -“Quiet,” the scar-faced sergeant said. “The captain is mean as the -devil tonight. Your welcoming committee isn’t here.” - -The old man was bullying up and down the ranks. “Stay in line, you -devils,” he shouted. “Keep them in line, you lazy trash.” He stood in -a circle of gaslight at the end of the platform with his hands on his -hips and greeted a detachment of men in Confederate uniform. “Where -in hell have you been?” he howled to the lieutenant in command of the -guard. “You were supposed to be here when the train came in.” - -The lieutenant was an even-tempered man. “I’ll take the gentlemen now,” -he said. - -The old captain made a vulgar sound. “Gentlemen!” he exploded. “These -men are the lowest of Yankee scum.” - -The lieutenant looked along the line. “Any trouble to report?” - -“One escape from the long bridge trestle on the Congaree. I got him -with my second shot.” - -“You know his name, so I can put it in the report?” - -The old man’s voice was rising again. “Now how the devil would I know -his name?” - -The lieutenant gave a command to his men and they came down the line, -ordering the prisoners to march. - -The column moved along the platform, past the silent cars into the pool -of gaslight, out of the stationyard and along a lamplit street lined -with white wooden houses, cool and dark under the cover of stately -trees. - -The guards spoke to the prisoners now and then, and the prisoners -talked quietly among themselves. “How did you get through the battle -alive?” - -“Kautz and I and some of the others survived the retreat. Did you hear -the order to retreat?” - -“No,” Tim said. “It must have come after I got into the fort.” - -“Saints preserve us, you mean you jumped right into the fort?” Red said. - -“There was no place else to go.” - -Tim stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blouse. “But if you lived -through the retreat, how did they take you prisoner?” - -“After the battle, under a flag of truce. Kautz and I followed the -doctors out to the field to help the wounded and identify our dead.” -Red lowered his head and clenched his fists. “They took us prisoners -while we were out there on an errand of mercy. They broke their word. -An officer from Charleston wanted to let us go back to our lines. It -was a renegade Yankee who put up the fuss. He said the commanding -general would have to approve our release, but of course we heard no -more of that.” - -“Did you know that Sergeant Fitch was killed?” - -“I did. He was a blessed man.” - -The column passed a lamplit printing office. “We need news of our -troops,” Tim said, “if we’re going to head for Union lines.” - -“And maps,” said Red. “Captain Kautz had all the maps.” - -“I wish we could make a break right now.” - -“Quiet in the ranks,” said one of the guards. - -The men’s boots sounded on the pavement; a bell in a nearby tower -tolled the hour. When its echo had died away the voice of the town -crier sounded in the street. “Ten o’clock and all’s well!” - -The Confederate lieutenant called a halt in front of a three-story -building that appeared to be a jail. It was built of brick, and the -windows were heavily barred. Four steps led up to a door in the middle -of the building, and beside the steps, just under a lamp, stood a -prison guard. The man’s features, lit from above, were ghoulish in the -yellow light. - -The lieutenant spoke to the guard. “Captain Senn is nowhere about, I -suppose?” - -“No, sir, he’s not. He won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” - -“Did he leave any orders for these prisoners?” - -“Not that I know of, Lieutenant.” - -“Then we’ll set up camp in the vacant lot at the corner of Gadsden and -Taylor Streets.” - -The lieutenant turned to the prisoners. “Will the officers step -forward, please?” - -Tim, Red, Dawson and two other men stepped out of the ranks. - -“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait till morning for a ration of food,” the -lieutenant said. “Did they feed you before you boarded the train?” - -Tim looked toward Dawson, the ranking officer, but Dawson didn’t speak. -“Most of us have had very little food today, but we’re so tired that if -we have some place to sleep we can manage until morning,” Tim said. - -“I’ll see that you get rations at the crack of dawn,” the lieutenant -said. “The officers will probably be billeted here, but I don’t know -what plans we have for the enlisted men.” - -The prisoners were marched around the corner and settled in an empty -lot, under the watchful eyes of the guards. - -Tim and Red rolled up their blouses for pillows and lay down under a -spindly tree. Red lay on his side. “Why is Captain Dawson avoiding us?” -he asked. - -“Poor devil went to pieces in this morning’s assault. I had to pry a -dead boy loose from him and slap his face to bring him to his senses.” - -“He’s been heading for trouble for a long time now.” - -A soldier near them groaned, “Why don’t you boys go to sleep?” - -Tim lay on his back and looked into the sky. The stars cast a faint -light on the shapes of the prisoners and the sentries standing around -the lot. Tim couldn’t wait to escape. In his mind he raced like a -phantom through the pine forests of North Carolina and across the -mountains into Eastern Tennessee. - - - - -CHAPTER NINE - - -In the morning a warm, westerly breeze was blowing across the river -where it flowed past the city just to the west. Tim noticed that a -railroad ran close by. As he looked to the north he noticed that it -followed the river’s course. In the east the sun was rising, round -and red above the Statehouse roof. The war seemed far away from this -peaceful Southern city. There was a fine green park nearby, and just -across the street, in the side yard of one of a row of neat clapboard -houses, a line of white sheets flapped in the breeze. - -Red was still asleep as Tim got up. He pulled off his boots and shook -out his socks, then put his socks and boots back on again. He walked to -a well near the corner of the lot. A guard standing nearby nodded to -him, and Tim pumped some water and doused his head. “Is the water good -for drinking?” he asked. - -“I reckon so.” - -Tim cupped his left hand and pumped and drank the clear, cool water. -When he straightened up he saw the Confederate lieutenant walking -toward him. “Good morning,” the man said. “The rations will be along -shortly.” - -Tim smiled. “That’s good.” - -“My name is Davis,” the lieutenant said suddenly. “My home’s in -Georgia. How about you?” - -Tim smiled again. “Bradford,” he said. “I’m from Connecticut.” - -The lieutenant raised his hand in a kind of salute and moved off, -walking easily among the prisoners, talking to Dawson first and then to -some of the other men. - -A wagon rattled into the lot, driven by a big young Negro boy perched -high on the wooden seat, smiling proudly and nodding to the Confederate -lieutenant. Some of the early risers helped build a fire. They heated -water for coffee, and the colored boy passed out rations to the men -who were awake. The other prisoners opened their eyes, stretched and -shambled over to stand in line. - -Red was one of the last to stir. When he saw Tim sitting near him with -a corncake in his hand he sat up straight. “Why didn’t you wake me?” he -asked accusingly. - -“There’s plenty of food, and I figured you needed your beauty sleep.” - -“And so I did.” - -When they had finished breakfast and settled themselves with tin cups -filled with steaming bitter coffee Red leaned forward. “You and I -are going to get away,” he said. “From this point forward we’ll bend -ourselves to that one end.” - -“This country is good,” Tim said. “I should think a man could live off -the land.” - -“We can’t depend on doing that. The more supplies we can take, the -better off we’ll be.” Red laughed. “But we’re getting ahead of -ourselves.” - -“By tonight we’ll probably be in that jail,” Tim said, waving toward -the gray roof that stood above the trees “We’ll have to make our break -from there.” - -Red looked along the tracks. “It would help if I could swim,” he said -with a touch of bitterness. - -“We’ll ask the guards to give you lessons in the river yonder.” - -“And then in three or four months, when I’m good and ready, we can beg -their leave,” Red said with a grin. - - * * * * * - -About midmorning a man, who must be Captain Senn, and a fat, -dull-eyed corporal walked with Lieutenant Davis to the middle of -the lot. Senn was a humorless man who wore his immaculate uniform -awkwardly. He sported a blue forage cap and white gloves tucked into -the crimson-edged belt that was looped around his slightly oversized -blouse. He carried no pistol, but a long sword bumped against his side. -His stiffness contrasted with the easy manner of Lieutenant Davis. - -The lieutenant asked the Yankee officers to step forward. “This is -Captain Senn,” he said, “Commandant of the Post Guard.” - -Senn cleared his throat and faced the five. “You will be in my charge,” -he said, looking at Dawson. “You will be imprisoned on the second floor -of the jail. If you try to escape--and you don’t get shot--I’ll give -you a spell of solitary confinement.” He tapped his foot, fingered the -tassel that hung from the handle of his sword, and smiled frostily. -“And where would you go?” - -Senn nodded to the fat corporal, who had a large ring of keys dangling -from his belt. “This is Corporal Addison. He will show you to your -quarters.” - -Addison’s heavy-lidded eyes moved dully from one Yankee face to -the next. He stuck out his lower lip, motioned with his head, and -shouldered his rifle. The five Yankee officers understood that they -were to march at the corporal’s side. - -[Illustration: Richland Jail in Columbia, S. C., 1863 - -Showing Jailyard and Second Floor] - -They crossed the street, walked through a grove of trees and approached -the back of the jail. There was a stout wooden enclosure around the -jailyard. Addison pounded on a solid wooden gate at the back of the -yard. “Addison with prisoners,” he shouted. - -After a sliding of wooden bars the gate was opened. The courtyard had -an earthen floor. Close to the jail building and against the right-hand -fence stood a small one-story brick building with two doorways facing -the courtyard. At the near end of the small building was a rudely -built woodshed, its back wall formed by the courtyard fence, its far -side adjoining the small building. The other two walls were of thin, -weathered planks that bulged outward near the bottom. - -Besides the guard who had admitted the prisoners, there was one other -man who paced off a vigil along the fence. He stared with sharp -hostility as the little column passed his station. The prisoners were -taken through the door at the back of the jailhouse. - -Tim’s spirit was chilled as they passed along a dank corridor to the -stair well at the front of the building. The door to the stairs was -made of heavy wood. It had a small barred window near the top. - -The corporal unclipped the key ring from his belt, and after some -deliberation picked out a key. He inserted it in the lock, turned it -and pulled the door open. The five prisoners waited as the corporal -replaced the key ring and fumbled with his rifle, signaling them to -precede him up the stairs. They waited again in the dusky hallway -on the second floor as the corporal lumbered up. Tim thought how -easily they could overpower this lubberly man, get his keys, and let -themselves out the front door to the street, but he remembered the -guard who had stood under the lamp. He gritted his teeth and clasped -his hands behind his back. - -Corporal Addison pushed a heavy unlocked door on the other side of the -corridor. It swung open, revealing a room about ten feet by twelve, at -the far end of which was a small fireplace flanked by barred windows -facing north. The floor was made up of splintering planks. The room -was without furniture. The corporal pointed to a small doorway in the -right-hand wall. “There are two pails in there, one for water, one for -waste.” He turned on his heel, stepped into the hall and slammed and -locked the door. - -As the sound of the corporal’s footfalls died away Dawson moved to -the window and stared through the bars. For the first time Tim looked -closely at the two strange officers. They appeared to be members of -the derelict group who had joined them at the Charleston depot. They -looked half-starved. Their tattered uniforms hung loosely on their bony -frames. The shorter of the two was already settling on the floor, but -the other smiled faintly. Tim held out his hand and introduced Red, -Dawson and himself. Dawson turned briefly from the window and nodded. - -“I’m Lieutenant Peter Mills of the Eighth Michigan,” the stranger said, -looking mournfully at the little man who had stretched himself out on -the floor. “I was captured more than a year ago at James Island. I’ve -been in Charleston jail all year, treated as a common criminal.” - -For just a moment a flame of anger lit the man’s sunken eyes. “I ran -out of money long ago,” he said, “and I’ve got none from home. The -rations in that jail weren’t good enough to feed a pig. The place was -filled with criminals and slatternly women. I saw hundreds of them come -and go. Once when I was sick they put me in a hospital just behind -the prison yard, but as soon as I was better they put me back in jail -again. Now I’ve lost the will to escape and almost lost the will to -live.” - -The effort of speaking had exhausted the man. He sank down beside the -smaller fellow, who was already lost in sleep. “This man was taken from -a Charleston hospital,” Mills breathed. “He must be sick. He hasn’t -said a word.” - -Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out a molasses cake and the one -remaining orange that had belonged to Private Greene. He handed them -to Lieutenant Mills. “Thank you,” Mills said with an expression of -gratitude. “Do you mind if I eat the orange later?” - -“Eat it when you want,” Tim said. “I’m sorry it couldn’t be more.” - -Dawson turned from the window and clasped his hands behind his back. He -glanced at Red with mild hostility. - -Red scratched his beard and looked at Dawson. “We’re in this together,” -he said. “We have to live together in this room and make whatever plans -might benefit us all.” - -“I guess Bradford has told you about my fault.” - -Tim spoke softly. “Forget about that.” - -Dawson nodded almost gratefully. “But you can leave me out of your -plans,” he said, looking down at Mills who had fallen asleep with the -orange in his hand, “and these poor wretches couldn’t walk as far as -the city limits.” Dawson stared out the window again. “You’d have to -have wings to get away from here,” he said with a bitter laugh. - -Red turned away impatiently and sat down on the floor. Tim moved to -the other window, and reached through the bars and raised the creaking -sash, propping it up with a stick he found on the sill. - -Just across the way Tim saw a white building that seemed to be a -school. It was closed now, but a scattering of children romped in the -yard. Four little girls were playing tag on a patch of grass, and two -boys laughed and wrestled under a tree. - -Beside the school was a one-story house, neat and clean, with a garden -in front. A woman with a basket over her arm was just coming out of the -house. - -In the vacant lot the guards were ordering the prisoners into ranks. -Tim watched as they moved along the street toward the east. - -The river glistened like a sheet of polished steel in the citron light -of the summer sun. Tim could see the shapes of islands where the -Congaree joined the Saluda and the Broad. Columbia Canal followed the -near shore of the Congaree and disappeared behind trees near the edge -of town. The city was laid out in squares, their pattern broken by a -handsome park just across the way. - -He heard a train whistle, and an engine and a line of cars--much like -the ones that had brought them to Columbia--came into view. The train -was heading north. Tim watched until it disappeared among the trees at -the edge of the city and the last bit of smoke blew away. As he turned -from the window the whistle sounded again, this time far away. - -He sat on the floor below the window, reached into the inside pocket of -his blouse and pulled out his billfold and a couple of dog-eared pieces -of paper. He fumbled in a pocket and brought out the stub of a pencil. -The other men were all asleep. Red was slumped in a corner of the -room, sleeping peacefully with a ghost of a smile across his face. Tim -smoothed out a piece of paper against the surface of his billfold. Red -must be dreaming of home, he thought. He sharpened his pencil against a -brick, licked the point and began to write: - - RICHLAND JAIL - COLUMBIA, S. C. - July 12, 1863 - - DEAR MOTHER AND FATHER, - - Yesterday I was taken prisoner and today I find myself in jail. It - seems I will be here for a spell. - - Surely through no fault of yours, I have had no word from home - since May. It might be worth a try to write me at the old address - at Hilton Head, hoping that when the Colonel learns our whereabouts - our mail will be forwarded here. I have heard of mail being taken to - prisons by way of Port Royal Ferry. The Rebels are often kind in such - matters, as we have some of their boys too. - - My health is good and I am cheered by the presence of my friend - Lieutenant Kelly. I have mentioned him in other letters. Of course I - am hoping we may be exchanged, but we have no word of the chances for - that. - - If you can send a box, I know that books will be a special want, and - paper and pencils and a change of underclothes. I have some money but - more would be useful, if it can be spared. I don’t know if a sutler - comes to this jail, but I imagine that things can be bought somehow. - - I long to see your faces more than ever now. Love to the twins, - and when you see Kate in church ask her to send that long-awaited - photograph. - Your loving son, - TIMOTHY BRADFORD - _Lieut. 7th Ct._ - -He folded the letter and put it, with the billfold and remaining sheet -of writing paper, back into his pocket. He measured the pencil stub -between his thumb and forefinger, and shook his head. He slipped it -into his pocket. - -He got up from the floor and looked out the window again, this time -with unseeing eyes. He turned from the window and paced along the wall -and back again. Now that the letter was finished he was tortured by a -feeling of suffocation. He wanted to send it on its way right now, or -better still, deliver it himself. - - - - -CHAPTER TEN - - -As Tim finished his game with Red they heard the familiar rattle of -keys and the sound of the lower door. “There’s Bull Head,” said Red, -“coming to take us to the yard.” Tim swept the chessmen off the board -and set them on the mantle. - -They had been in the jail for nearly five months now. After a week or -so they had been joined by the officers captured in the second attempt -to take Fort Wagner. This room where they had first been imprisoned -wasn’t used for sleeping now. The Army prisoners had been given the run -of the second floor, and this had been kept as a sort of common room. - -They had thought of escape almost constantly, but they hadn’t found a -plan that was good enough. If they worked together they might overpower -the guards, but the hue and cry would come too soon. Some might escape -but some would surely lose their lives. Prisoners went outside under -guard every day, but they were carefully watched. An open wagon came -into the yard several times a week bringing food, but it went out -empty. There was no place to hide on the wagon. - -Shortly after the arrival of his prisoners Captain Senn had realized -that their stay was to be an extended one, and he’d had double-decker -bunk beds installed in the cells along the corridor. The beds were -furnished with straw mattresses and one rough woolen blanket each, -supplied by some kindhearted women of Columbia. - -For a time the floor above the Army officers had been occupied by Army -privates, but these men had been sent to Belle Island prison to suffer -through the winter in the open air. Now the second floor was occupied -by Navy men captured in Admiral Dahlgren’s unsuccessful attempt to land -an assaulting force at Sumter. - -Corporal Addison appeared at the top of the stairs, his holstered -pistol bumping foolishly against the curve of his stomach. Another -guard stood behind Addison, his bayonet glistening in the gloom. “Fall -in,” Addison said. “Time to take you to the yard.” - -He might have saved himself the trouble of giving the command. Most of -the men already waited in line and now they filed along the corridor, -talking to each other in quiet tones. - -The day was warm for late fall, but Tim shivered as he moved down the -stairs and walked through the lower corridor, buttoning his ragged -uniform. - -There was sunlight in the yard. Tim’s spirits rose a little as he and -Red began their walk. Some of the prisoners took out playing cards and -settled against the wall, or marked out games of tick-tack-toe on the -ground, but Tim and Red had discovered they could endure prison life -better if they took regular exercise. They passed the one-story brick -cookshack with its two doors, each leading to a separate kitchen. - -Red kicked at a little mound of dust. “You seem downhearted this -afternoon.” - -There were six guards in the courtyard. Two were standing near them by -the wooden gate at the end of the yard. Tim spoke softly. “It’s been a -week since we’ve talked about escape. Prospects of exchange have grown -dim. There’s been no mail from Kate or your folks or mine for more than -a month. Our money has given out and our rations are poor.” - -While the money had lasted, the Army prisoners had pooled their funds -and paid the colored woman who brought in their rations to bring in -extra food and do the cooking, but when their money was gone Senn, in -his methodical way, had taken seven volunteers, telling each to cook -two meals one day a week. The midday meal was cold. Tim cooked on -Mondays. - -He was glad to do it, to break up the routine, but Red had said he had -no love for stirring pots. The meals were served in a long room on the -first floor of the jail. - -The Navy had a separate mess. Two sailors had volunteered for permanent -duty in the kitchen. One cooked and the other was a kind of handyman -who helped the cook and did the laundry for the Navy boys. - -As Tim and Red swung around the yard they saw the two sailors lounging -by the door. One of them was large and ugly. He had a jolly nature and -a great mop of black hair. The other was slight with bright blue eyes -and light brown hair. Both sailors expected to be exchanged. - -The big man cheerfully bore the name of “Devil” given him by shipmates -of a happier time. When he saw Tim and Red he raised his hand in -greeting, and the little sailor smiled. - -“Hello, Devil,” said Tim. “What are you serving tonight?” - -The smaller sailor, whose name was Bell, said, “Chicken cooked in wine.” - -“Indeed,” said Red. “I’ll dine with the Navy tonight.” He smiled at -Devil. “You boys are privileged characters. How does it happen Senn -lets two Navy men work in the cookshack at once?” - -Devil screwed his face into a grin. “It’s because we’re such capital -fellows and they trust us,” he said. “Nobody can trust an Army man.” - -Tim laughed softly. “And you cook for Senn sometimes.” - -Devil leaned forward and fixed Tim with a roguish stare. “I plan to -poison him,” he whispered. - -There was a pounding at the gate before their time was up, and the -prisoners were ordered into the building again. Tim was on kitchen duty -tonight. He stood with Devil and Bell and watched as the guards opened -the gate and the wagon came through. The colored boy, Tom Jackson, whom -Tim had first seen in the vacant lot months before, was holding the -reins. His mother, whom the prisoners called “Aunty,” sat beside him. -As the wagon pulled up to the cookshack the woman’s thin face wrinkled -into a smile. - -Devil said, “You’re late today.” - -The woman slapped her knee and laughed. “Sorry indeed.” - -Tom shouted, “Evening, Lieutenant. Evening, sailor men.” - -Aunty waited while her son and the white men unloaded the wagon and -stored the food on the shelves in the kitchens. When they had nearly -finished she beckoned to Tim. “Under the canvas just behind the seat -you’ll find a barrel of salt pork. Share it all around.” - -“We have no money,” Tim said. “Did Captain Senn order the pork?” - -“Never mind,” the woman cackled, “but if anyone asks you, tell them you -paid me fair and square.” - -Tim kept his face as straight as he could. “You didn’t steal it did -you, Aunty?” - -Aunty went into gales of laughter, and a guard who watched from a -little distance looked toward her uneasily. - -She screeched, “You shouldn’t talk like that to poor old Aunty. You -unload the wagon now!” - -When they had finished unloading, Tom whipped the horse around, the -guards opened the gate, and the wagon moved toward the end of the yard. -Tim watched as the gate swung wide. - -The guards made Tom rein in when the wagon was halfway through. One of -them hopped to the hub of a front wheel and stabbed the ragged canvas -with the point of his bayonet. - -Aunty screamed, “Don’t you poke my canvas full of holes.” - -Addison came through the jailhouse door, and the guard who had been -watching them mumbled something in the corporal’s ear. - -Addison looked toward Tim. “What were you and the old crow saying?” - -“Aunty was having one of her jokes,” Tim said. - -Addison stuck out his lower lip and motioned with his head toward the -other guard. “This fellow thinks I should inspect the stores.” - -Devil grinned. “Why don’t you do that, Corporal?” - -Addison, with a sour expression on his face, waddled after Tim to the -Army kitchen. He poked his way through sacks of com meal and rice and -boxes of crackers as Devil and Bell looked on from the yard. He shook -a keg of vinegar and kicked the barrel that held the pork. “What’s in -this?” - -“Dried meat or sorghum molasses, I think,” Tim said. “If you want me to -pry off the top we can look.” - -“Never mind,” Addison said, dipping his grubby hand into a tin of salt -and licking his fingers one by one. “I reckon nothing was smuggled in.” - -Devil stood in the doorway, fingering his pie-shaped Navy cap. “What -did you expect to find?” - -Addison frowned darkly and rocked a little from side to side. “Knives -or guns.” - -“Oh,” said Devil, smiling wickedly. - - - - -CHAPTER ELEVEN - - -The following Monday Addison’s shout rang down the hall and the -prisoners began to stir. Tim slept in a second-tier bunk. He opened his -eyes and pulled up his blanket to shield himself from the chilly air. -This left his feet sticking out. He stared, as he had stared a hundred -times before, at the rough-hewn rafters and the boards that formed the -floor above. He threw off his blanket and sat on the edge of his bunk. -One of his boots was lying on the end of the mattress. He reached for -it and turned it over in his hands. As he looked he began to frown. If -he had some money, he could send out his boots to have the soles and -heels repaired. He’d noticed they leaked the last time he walked in the -jailyard after a rain. - -Addison finished checking the beds and poked his head through the door. -“Ready to go to the kitchen, Lieutenant?” - -Tim slid to the floor, found his other boot and pulled it on, balancing -himself against the bunk. “Combed and manicured. Ready for another day.” - -“You seem right cheerful this morning, Lieutenant,” Addison said -accusingly. - -“I like to cook. It makes me happy.” - -Red pulled his blanket away from his face and looked sleepily down from -his bunk. Then he pulled the blanket up again. - -Dawson and Mills were dead to the world. - -When Tim stepped into the yard he could hear Devil singing chanteys in -the Navy kitchen. - -Devil poked his head through the kitchen door and rubbed the bristles -on his chin. “Good morning, Lieutenant.” - -Tim went into the Army kitchen and started a fire in the stove. He -pulled his toothbrush out of his pocket and held it between his teeth -while he drew a cup of water from the big tank. He moistened the -toothbrush, sprinkled it lightly with salt and brushed his teeth. He -drew his thumb across the bristles before putting the brush back into -his pocket. - -He cooked up a mush with cornmeal and sorghum molasses and heated a -pail of coffee. When he finished cooking he took the breakfast to the -Army mess with the help of a guard. - -They carried out pails of tin plates and cups that had been soiled the -night before and set them between the kitchen doors. At ten o’clock a -couple of prisoners would go under guard to the pump at the corner of -the vacant lot to rinse the dishes, while other men, also under guard, -would carry the waste pails to a stream that ran to the river through a -culvert under the canal. - -Tim ate a bowl of mush and drank his coffee. He scraped the stove and -tossed a couple of wooden spoons into one of the pails outside the -door. He had finished his work. He stood in the doorway for a moment, -then wandered into the Navy kitchen. - -Bell was stirring a potful of clothes with the broken handle of a -broom. “Good morning, Lieutenant,” he said. - -“Too busy to talk,” said Devil. - -During warmer weather the prisoners had had a weekly swim in the river -and the Army men had done their laundry in wooden buckets while they -were at liberty in the yard. Now it was too cold for swimming, and -most of the men--finding it unpleasant to do their laundry in the open -air--had given it up. Tim had been waiting for a chance to talk to -Senn, to see if the Army prisoners could have an extra kitchen hand, as -the Navy had, to do the wash and help carry the food. If they couldn’t -have baths, at least they should have a way to wash their clothes. - -Tim passed the time of day with Devil and Bell until it was time to go -back upstairs. - -At ten thirty the prisoners were taken out for their morning airing. -Tim and Red were among the first to enter the yard. They found the Navy -prisoners still there. - -Everyone in the yard was watching Addison and the guards who had -escorted the dishwashers to the pump and the pail carriers to the -stream. Members of the detail were standing by the fence, their faces -white as chalk. - -One of the guards stood close to Addison. His body was racked by sobs. -His hands hung forlornly at his sides and he drew in his breath in -shuddering gasps. “God help me,” he wailed, “I just meant to stop him. -I never meant to kill.” - -The stricken boy was suddenly aware that Army prisoners were filing -into the yard. He shrank back in fear. The guards brought up their -muskets, and the Army men found themselves held at the end of the yard. -An uneasy silence was broken by the intermittent sobbing and wailing of -the guard. Addison finally mumbled something to the sentries, and he -and the boy left the yard by the wagon gate. - -When the Navy prisoners had been taken back into the building a tall -Confederate private sauntered toward the soldiers, his gray overcoat -swinging at his knees. “Take your exercise,” he said gruffly. “Spread -out and take your exercise.” - -Red spoke up. “What happened outside?” - -“Shut your mouth and mind your own affairs.” - -The sentries stood along the fences and by the buildings. The guard was -almost double now. The early morning shift was staying on duty in the -yard. - -The prisoners who had witnessed the shooting mingled with the others. -Now one of them, a man named Frazer, began to explain. “Remember Jones? -Well, he’s dead. Shot by the boy who went out with Addison. We’re -washing the waste pails in the creek, and the guards are joking with -us, and I notice that Jones is working his way downstream to a place -near a thick grove of trees, making a big job of rinsing his pails....” - -The tall Rebel private shouted from his place by the gate, “Break up -that group. Spread out, or I’ll send you back inside.” - -Tim pretended to drift away but he and Red stayed close enough to -Frazer so that they could hear how Jones had been killed. - -Frazer went on. “Suddenly Jones gets up and looks around, smiling at -the guard in what he means to be a casual way, and points to a place -in the creek. Then he says, ‘There’s a pretty stone.’ Well, the guards -kind of notice, because Jones’s voice shakes and his face is pale. -Suddenly Jones wheels and dashes among the trees toward the bridge that -crosses the canal. Two of the guards are older men, but this young one -dashes after Jones, quick as a rabbit, and drops him with one shot. -Then he lets his rifle fall and runs and bends over Jones, quiet, while -we all stand there like mutes. Then the boy starts to shake Jones and -cry and carry on....” - -Frazer kept talking, but Tim and Red had heard enough and they started -their walk around the yard. “Did you know Jones?” asked Tim. - -“Hardly at all. He was a quiet man. I wonder what was in his mind.” - -“There would be sentries on the bridge that crosses Columbia Canal. I -can only think he must have gone mad.” - -“If he went that way he wasn’t heading north. He must have been -thinking of Beaufort, if he was thinking at all.” - -Captain Senn came out of the jail. A soldier was with him, carrying a -pasteboard box. - -Senn raised his voice. “Army prisoners come here.” - -The men gathered around. “You have heard by now,” Senn said, “that -one of your number tried to escape. He was shot. He should have been -shot. It will serve as a lesson to you not to be foolish when you leave -the prison under guard. The soldier who shot this man said he wasn’t -shooting to kill. I told him it is the duty of a prison guard to shoot -an escaping man. I told him I would have shot the man myself. I would -not hesitate to shoot one of you. Not at all.” He fingered the pistol -that hung at his side and smiled his frostbitten smile. “And now there -are better things to talk about. In this box we have some mail.” - -The soldier reached for the letters one at a time and called out names. -There was a letter for Jones. Senn snatched the letter. Red’s name was -called. Red took his letter and turned away. Tim heard his own name -called. - -He reached for the letter and saw that it was addressed in Kate’s fine -hand. His hands trembled as he turned it over several times, then -tucked it into his inside pocket. - -When the mail had been distributed Senn cleared his throat. “Three -of you are lucky. Bradford, Brown and Frazer received money in -the mail. We have a system now.” He frowned. “To prevent illegal -exchange. I give you printed slips. You fill them out. These authorize -our quartermaster to convert your money to Confederate currency at -Government rates. The quartermaster keeps the money in his care....” - -As Senn droned on, Tim lost the hope of ever seeing his cash. He heard -Senn’s words again, “... but the sutler won’t come to the jail as he -did before. You will give your requests for goods to Corporal Addison -or me, and the wagon will deliver your things to the jail. A list -of goods and prices has been posted by the door at the end of your -corridor.” - -Tim reached for his slip. His family had sent him a hundred dollars. He -filled out the slip and gave it back to Senn, who nodded with a show -of friendliness. “Your goods will be brought in on Thursday, if the -quartermaster has what you want.” - -Red’s face was like a happy child’s. “Nancy’s fine, and she says the -little fellow’s well. Looks just like his dad, she says.” - -Tim grinned. “I’m glad she’s well and the little fellow too. I’m glad -he has good health to make up for his looks.” - -Red smiled and walked away. - -Tim sat on the steps of the Army kitchen. He took out Kate’s letter and -read: - - STONE’S BROOK, CONNECTICUT - October 27, 1863 - - DEAR TIM, - - Your letters give great pleasure to us all. We thank God your health - is fine and that you have a friend like Lieutenant Kelly to lighten - your days in that dark jail. I am sure it must work the other way as - well. How fondly I remember the many times when I was blue until you - made me laugh! - - Perhaps I shouldn’t say it in a letter that might be read by your - captors, but it seems the war has taken a turning now. The defeat of - Lee at Gettysburg was a blow to the Confederacy. Now we have news - that General Grant is Supreme Commander in the west. Maybe he will be - paying a call on you soon. Or perhaps your next letter will come from - the comparative freedom of one of our Army camps. How fervently you - must hope for exchange! - -Kate had written the letter on small, thin paper, and Tim was surprised -to see that the second page was blank. But when he looked more closely -he saw that it was double. It was covered with spidery lines and -printed all over with the faintest legends. As he looked Tim heard -footsteps on the stony earth and was startled by a voice close by. - -“Time to go back inside,” Red said. When he saw Tim’s face he laughed. -“Did I frighten you, lad?” - -Red started for the jailhouse door, and Tim read on: - - My prayers will be with you wherever you are. God give you strength - to take whatever course you may deem wise. Your folks have written - and we will post our letters at the same time. We have sent a - surprise in a separate packet. There’s something there from me. Can - you guess what? I hope it will reach you in good time. - - Your loving, - KATE - -At four o’clock as the prisoners moved into the yard Captain Senn -hailed Tim. “Lieutenant,” he said solemnly, holding out an envelope, -“there was a letter with the money your family sent. I’m sorry I had to -open it.” - -“Thank you, Captain.” - -“Here is another,” said Senn, making a ceremony of giving up the second -letter. “Since it came from a soldier, we opened this one too.” - -It hadn’t appeared that Kate’s letter had been opened but suppose -it had? Then Senn would watch him like a hawk. Tim looked sharply at -Senn’s face and saw nothing there but that patient, meaningless smile. - -When they were out of earshot Red said, “That stuffed shirt doesn’t -need to apologize for opening our mail. After all, we’re prisoners of -war. But don’t let me keep you from your mail.” - -They stood in the middle of the yard while Tim read the letter from his -family. He finished reading and said, “Things are fine at home.” - -“What’s in the letter from Hilton Head?” - -Tim looked at the irregular, unfamiliar writing. “Don’t know,” he said. -He unfolded the letter and read the first line. “Here, Red, it’s from -Greene. Did you know Greene?” - -“Hardly at all.” - -“Well read it, anyway.” - -They read: - - HILTON HEAD, S. C. - November 14, 1863 - - DEAR LIEUTENANT, - - Did you think that bayonet had done me in? Well, thanks to you it - didn’t. That Rebel maniac took me to the hospital and the surgeon - there was a fine gentleman and took care of me as a father would. - - The thing that frightened me was getting well. I could see into the - jailyard from the hospital. I pray to God your jail is not like that. - A gallows stands in the middle of the yard and there were puddles all - around and people lived out there in ragged tents, whether by choice - or order I couldn’t say. There were many colored soldiers of the 54th - Massachusetts who were captured in the second assault on the fort - where you were wounded by a private in the seat of the pants. They - were brave fellows, as perhaps you have heard. - - Before they had a chance to throw me in that jail I was lucky enough - to be exchanged. When will you suffer that happy fate? I hope it will - be soon so I can follow you into Charleston and twist that Rebel - corporal’s nose. - - I never told you how I got into the fort. When you went over the - crest I paused for a moment to fuss with my rifle. Well, I owe my - life to that pesky thing. If I’d gone in firing they would have shot - me down. When it wouldn’t work I scrambled up the parapet anyway. I - stumbled on a sandbag on the top and fell into the place headfirst. - They took my useless gun and sat me down by a cannon to wait the - battle out. - - It seems too bad that you are in that jail when you are almost as - brave a man as I. - - Your faithful servant, - THOMAS GREENE, _Private_ - -Red smiled. “I wish I’d known the boy. Did he really stick you in the -seat of the pants?” - -“I’d forgotten that. I guess he did.” - -“Under those conditions anyone could be brave under fire.” - - - - -CHAPTER TWELVE - - -That evening when Tim had finished working over the big, black -woodburning stove he went to the Navy kitchen to have some food with -Devil and Bell. He looked down mournfully at his greasy pants. - -When Devil finished eating he turned to Tim. “You’re downcast tonight, -Lieutenant,” he said, pulling at his long nose. - -Tim knew by now that he could trust the Navy men. “I have to get away -from here,” he whispered. “Red and I are dying to get away.” - -Devil was sitting on a barrel and Bell squatted on an empty wooden box. -Bell doused his empty plate in a pail of water and put it on the table. -He held his hands over his knees and cracked his knuckles. “Are you -more anxious than the rest?” - -“Some others are anxious, too, of course.” - -Bell got up from the box. He reached into a corner and brought out a -copy of a Charleston paper only two weeks old. - -“Aunty brought me this a few days ago.” - -He unfolded the paper and pointed to a column that was headlined -PRESENT POSITION OF UNION TROOPS. “Sherman’s in Memphis now, and -Burnside’s been in Knoxville since early September.” - -Tim said, “Knoxville’s closer by some three hundred miles. But granting -that we’d have a chance to get to Burnside’s lines, how will we get -away from here?” - -Devil stood up and walked to the door. When he was satisfied that none -of the guards was near he crossed the little room and pulled aside a -couple of ragged towels that hung across a corner on a piece of string. -A big rusty boiler was there. “Look here,” he said, pointing at the -wall behind the boiler. - -There was a small, sashless window halfway up the wall. “That leads to -the woodshed, doesn’t it?” - -“It does,” said Devil, “and the fence at the back of the woodshed -happens to be in sorry shape. If a man could find a time to do a little -work he could loosen a board in the fence.” - -Bell was keeping watch in the doorway. He turned around to speak to -Tim. “The boards of the fence are wide, and the nails were hammered in -from outside.” - -Tim’s heart thumped as thoughts of escape whirled through his mind. -Forgetting himself, he spoke with excitement, “One of us could loosen -a board while we were fetching wood. A couple of blows with a decent -sized log....” - -Bell turned around again, this time with his forefinger pressed against -his mouth. Then he sauntered to the center of the room. “They’ll hear -you, if you aren’t careful.” - -A guard put his head in the door. “The corporal says, finish your -chores,” he drawled. “He wants to take you back inside.” - -Tim grinned foolishly at the guard, stood up and went around to the -Army kitchen. His hands shook as he lit the lantern and scraped the -stove. - -He signaled a sentry who was lighting the lamp that hung in a bracket -on the jailhouse wall. “Finished for today,” he said. - -Addison’s room was on the first floor at the back of the jail, and -when the guard knocked the corporal’s keys began to rattle. He opened -the door. “’Bout time,” he said, holding his lantern so it would light -Tim’s face. - -As they moved along the first-floor corridor Addison mumbled, “I’m -going up too.” - -It was the custom of Senn or the guard on duty to check the prisoners’ -beds after the men came up from their mess. Senn had decreed that they -stay on their beds until he’d finished counting them in. - -Tim went straight to his cell and climbed to his bunk. - -Red lay on the top bunk, across from Tim. He stirred against the dingy -wall. “Sure, that was a capital mush you cooked tonight.” - -“Sit up,” Tim said. “I’ve got to talk to you.” - -“What is it, boy?” - -Tim slapped his thigh. “We have it,” he whispered. “We have a route at -last.” - -“You’ve marked it on the map?” asked Red. - -Addison’s keys jingled in the hall. - -“No, I’ll tell you later. Bull Head’s coming down the hall.” - -Addison’s boots scuffed out of the adjoining cell and he appeared in -the doorway with his lantern held high. He looked at Tim with something -like a smile. “We meet again,” he said. - -Dawson’s arm was dangling from his bunk. The man was apparently asleep. - -Addison squinted at the bunk under Tim’s. “Is Lieutenant Mills in that -pile of straw?” - -Mill’s voice came from the corridor. “Sorry I’m not on my bunk,” he -said, “but I had duties at the end of the hall.” - -“Now what duties ...” Addison began then stammered, “Try not to let it -happen again.” He moved past Mills and along the hall. - -Red doubled up with glee. “Never again,” he said as he rolled over and -shook his bunk with silent laughter. - -Tim smiled to himself. “They say if you stay in jail too long you go -back to your childhood ways. We’ll have to get you out of here.” - -When Addison had left the floor Tim and Red went to the end of -the corridor away from the common room and stood by a window that -overlooked the yard. The light from a flickering lamp outside painted -swift black ghosts against the wall. - -Tim told Red about the window in the Navy kitchen and the condition of -the fence at the back of the woodshed. “We can enter the kitchen when -we’re in the yard and crawl through the window while Devil and Bell -kick up a noise. Then we’ll wait in the woodshed till after dark.” - -“They’ll discover our absence when they check the beds, and the hounds -will be after us in no time at all.” - -“We might leave dummies in our beds.” - -Red looked through the bars at the dark blue sky. “If Senn’s not on -duty, dummies might work.” - -“Senn’s off duty all day Thursday. Let’s aim for Thursday afternoon.” - -“That soon?” - -“Why not? I’m sick of waiting. That gives us long enough to get ready.” - -By Wednesday night it seemed to Tim that nothing could go wrong. -Yesterday afternoon Devil had loosened the boards in the fence. - -Tim had watched and listened from the corridor window when the wagon -had come in. Aunty had cackled and slapped her thighs. She had prodded -Bell to laughter with a set of faces that would have made a dying man -laugh. - -There had been a bad moment when one of the guards, not satisfied with -watching from his usual distance, had moved up to the woodshed door. -“Don’t fetch wood now,” he’d said. “Wait until the wagon leaves.” - -“Need wood now,” Devil had said, staggering through the door with a -teetering load. Then he’d tripped on the sill and the wood had gone -flying, one piece hitting the guard on the shin, making him shout out -a stream of oaths. Devil had kicked the shed door shut before he got -off the ground. Tim hoped that no one passing through the alley would -notice the loosened board and report it to Senn. - -Tim stood by the window in the common room. He watched Red bending over -his game of chess with Peter Mills and marveled at his outward calm. A -little fire sputtered on the hearth and Dawson and Frazer were reading -by candlelight. Brown stood in the door, staring into the fire and -dreaming his private dreams. The air outside was clear as crystal, and -the lights twinkled yellow in the neat white houses. A soldier and a -girl passed under a lamp at the corner of the park. - -Kate’s map had shown him the rail line running north along the east -bank of the Broad, sticking pretty close to the river for a number of -miles. That was their route, straight up the Broad. God give them the -nighttime to move without pursuit. - -Now the sound of music reached his ears. Tim had heard it before. It -was said that the people of Columbia held great balls from time to time -to raise money for the Armies of the Confederacy. - -For a moment Tim forgot the meager rations in the jail, the smells, -the dirty clothes, the bedbugs that plagued them at night, the eternal -boredom that made the men short of temper. He thought of the people he -would miss. There were Devil and Bell and Peter Mills. - -Tim’s thoughts went back to a late afternoon shortly after the arrival -of the officers captured in the second assault. Someone had started -to sing “The Star-Spangled Banner,” others had joined the singer, and -before a minute had passed the whole second floor had rocked with the -song. The prisoners had pressed against the bars and shouted across the -town. - -Suddenly, caught by the sun, a white handkerchief had fluttered from -a window of the little white house across the street. Then the owner -of the handkerchief had appeared, a happy-faced young woman who waved -as if she could never grow tired. Senn and Bull Head and another guard -had come up the stairs to spoil the fun. Senn didn’t want singing or -shouting in his jail. But from that time on the young woman whose heart -beat for the Union had been the sweetheart of every Yankee in the jail. - -Tim thought again of the coming day. Two haversacks and some other -supplies were hidden in the Navy kitchen. - -Tim put his hand over his breast pocket to be sure that his pictures -were there. They had come in a shining black book with the word ALBUM -stamped in gold on its spine. The covers were sky blue inside, neatly -patterned with white stars. The pages were made of heavy pasteboard -covered with paper frames to hold the pictures. The frames were arched -at the top and lined around with gold. - -Kate’s picture was there with the ones of Mother and Father and the -twins. It was the only one that wasn’t stiff. It was posed, of course, -but somehow Kate’s natural poise made it seem more alive. Her waist was -slim and her figure had filled out where it should be full. She was -more of a woman now. The photographer had put a touch too much pink on -the cheeks, but her face was the same. Before the picture had come, her -face had faded a little from Tim’s mind. Now he could see her clear as -yesterday. - -She had cut out a little piece from the hem of the dress she wore -in the picture and had pasted it on the blank page opposite her -photograph. The material was golden brown--some kind of silk he -supposed it was. - -The fire flickered low. Tim heard the men stirring behind him and felt -a hand on his shoulder. “No sleep tomorrow night,” Red said quietly. -“We better get sleep while we can.” - -Tim turned from the window. “We’ve rested for five months now. We don’t -need sleep. We need a beefsteak dinner and a couple of greatcoats.” - -Dawson looked up from his book, quiet and inscrutable. “Do you really -mean to try to escape?” - -By now their secret was known to everyone on the second floor. There -had been the chance that someone would notice their absence from the -mess. Then, too, they would need a little help along the way. - -Mill’s chess partner had left the room and Mills was studying the -board. He turned to Dawson. “Sure they’re going,” he said. “Say, -Dawson, do you play chess?” - -Dawson didn’t answer, and Mills stood up and followed Red and Tim out -the door and along the corridor. When they were back in their room -Mills said, “That man’s behavior is downright unsettling.” - -They lay down on their bunks, and after a while Dawson came in and -stretched out on his bunk, without taking off his blouse. Soon he -breathed steadily in a seesaw chorus with Mills. - -Tim thought again about Kate’s map. She must have searched her soul -before she mailed it. That map, drawn with such painstaking care, might -show him the way to his death. But she must have known he would never -rest until he’d tried to get away. - -Until now Kate had been waiting at the end of the trail--warm and -lovely but far away. All at once it seemed she was very close, her -faith and understanding sending him on his way, making him impatient to -be free, no matter what hardships freedom might bring. - -Red stirred, and Tim whispered, “Red, you awake?” - -“Yes.” - -“Wish Peter could go along.” - -“So do I.” - -“You got any worries?” - -“Not really. Good night, lad.” - - - - -CHAPTER THIRTEEN - - -After breakfast some of the prisoners gathered in the common room. - -Red’s calm began to disappear. As soon as Addison left the floor Red -pulled a list from his side pocket. He and Tim went over it one last -time. Six quarts of corn, parched and ground, were waiting in the Navy -kitchen. Extra woolen underclothes and socks, a paper of salt for each -of them, a piece of soap, some lucifer matches and tin cups; these -things were packed into the haversacks concealed behind the boiler in -the kitchen. - -“Toothbrushes, family photographs and such can go in our pockets,” Tim -said. “That just leaves blankets.” - -Red gave the paper one last look, then tore it up and threw the scraps -on the ashes from the night before, turning them under with the toe of -his boot. - -Mills asked, “When will you set the dummies up?” - -Red said, “It can’t be now, or two of us will be in our stocking feet -all day.” - -A man named Allen leaned against the wall by the door. “I have an -extra pair of boots,” he said. “They’re no good for wearing but you’re -welcome to them if they’ll be of use.” - -Mill’s good blanket, his boots and an extra blouse would be used to -make the dummy on Tim’s bunk. There was one spare blanket, ragged and -full of holes. They would tear it in two. Mills would cover himself -with half and they would use the other half for Red’s bunk, with -Allen’s boots and an extra pair of pants stuffed with dirty clothes. - -Mills leaned against the chimney, his thin wrists and long hands -sticking out from his tattered blouse. His face was pale but not so -thin as it had been when Tim had first seen him slump to the floor in -this same room. His spirit had mended somehow. - -Mills looked at Tim with a faint familiar humor in his face. “I could -never make a trip like that, you know.” He measured the thickness of -his thigh with his bony hands. “I have nothing in reserve.” - -“You can make it in the spring,” Tim said. - -Mills gave no sign of having heard. “I’ll miss you boys.” Dawson’s -figure appeared in the doorway and he managed a thin, one-sided smile. -He looked toward Mills. “You promised to teach me chess. Remember, -Mills?” - -Mills perked up a little. “Why sure I will.” - -Red had a gold-plated watch. Until a week or so ago he had lost the -habit of winding it. Keeping track of time had only made the hours -drag. Now he kept it wound and fussed if it was slow or fast. He set it -by a watch that Devil carried. - -He reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch and twiddled -with the chain. “I wish we had something to do. Curse all our early -preparations.” - -Frazer snickered. “Never dreamed I’d see Kelly in a state like this.” - -Red looked at his watch and put it back again. “I just remembered I’m -to be on slop duty today. I never thought I’d look forward to washing -out those pails.” - -Tim said, “Don’t get into trouble out there.” - -At ten o’clock Addison came up with three other guards. He asked for a -couple of extra men to go down to the yard for wood. Tim almost leaped -to his feet but he restrained himself. “I’ll go, Corporal,” he said -in what he hoped would pass for a casual tone. “Do you want to come, -Allen? Do you feel like toting some wood?” - -At the midday meal Addison stood by the messroom door. Tim tried to -see the room through the eyes of a guard. Two men might not be missed -tonight. He took a sip of water from his tin cup and bent low over his -corncakes and sorghum molasses. - -Mills was just behind Dawson as the column moved upstairs. When they -reached the landing Dawson leaned toward Addison and said a few words. -Addison mumbled a reply. - -When Addison started back downstairs Tim averted his eyes until he -heard the clang of the lower door. - -When he looked up again Mills had grasped the front of Dawson’s blouse. -He swung the man around and knocked him against the wall with a -sickening sound. Mills had always been a gentle man. This action took -everyone by surprise. The other men gaped while Mills slapped a hand -over Dawson’s mouth. “Why did you ask to see Senn?” - -Dawson’s eyes bugged out as they fixed on Mills. - -Mills signaled with his head for Tim and Red to move in close, and -dragged the man through the common-room door. Dawson let out a little -scream as Mill’s hand slipped away from his mouth for a second. Mills -shoved him into a corner. - -Tim and Frazer moved with Red and Allen to the center of the room. The -others stood outside the door. - -Frazer brought out a knife that no one had ever known he had--a wicked -thing with a gleaming, pointed blade. Dawson twitched like a headless -chicken on a chopping block. - -Mills held one hand behind Dawson’s neck and the other firmly over his -mouth. Red looked quietly down at Dawson and shook his head sadly. - -Tim kneeled. Dawson’s breath came in violent gasps. “Dawson,” Tim -said, “Peter will take his hand away now and you won’t cry out. Do you -understand?” - -Dawson’s eyes lost their deathlike stare. He slumped. Mills supported -him almost gently now. Dawson nodded and Mills took his hand away. - -Tim spoke softly. “Why did you want to speak to Senn?” - -Dawson gave a quick little sigh and stared down at the splintering -floor. The room was silent. Tim heard footsteps in the hall downstairs. - -Dawson raised his head as if to speak, but Tim signaled for quiet, and -Dawson looked down like a feverish child. - -Addison’s voice came up the stairs. “What’s all that knocking about up -there?” - -Red called, “Indian wrestling. Want to come up and try your hand?” - -Addison grunted and moved away. - -“Well, Dawson,” said Tim. - -Dawson’s voice came high and thin. “Mills heard me wrong.” - -Mills took a fresh grip on Dawson’s blouse. “I heard you clear,” he -said. “You’ll get the knife if you don’t tell us straight what was in -your mind.” - -Dawson collapsed, his body shaken by shuddering, racking sobs. Mills -eased him to the floor, and Frazer struck out with his hand and tore -off one of Dawson’s shoulder straps with its Captain’s bars outlined in -threadbare, greenish gold. “You’re not fit to carry a private’s slop,” -he said. - -Dawson grasped at his shoulder as if he’d been stabbed. - -Tim said, “All right now, Frazer. Let me talk to him.” - -Tim looked into Dawson’s eyes. “If you give me your word you won’t tell -anyone about our plan, now or any other time, I promise not to leave -this jail till every prisoner has sworn that you’ll come to no harm.” - -Dawson said thinly, “Why should I strike a bargain with you?” - -“I’m not bargaining,” Tim said evenly. “I’m giving you a chance to save -your skin.” - -Dawson lowered his eyes. His lower lip quivered and he looked up at -Tim, then down again. “You have my word.” - -Mills and Tim got to their feet and left the room. The others followed, -leaving Dawson alone on the floor. Halfway down the corridor Mills -turned to Tim. “I better watch Dawson from now until tomorrow morning.” - -The other men crowded around, and Frazer said, “I’ll watch him too.” - -“One man is enough,” Mills said. “I’ll go back and talk to him.” - -Tim’s hands trembled as he hacked the old blanket in half with Frazer’s -knife. That business with Dawson had shaken him up. - -Senn had said that an extra hand could go to the kitchen to do the wash -and help with the chores. It seemed that all they’d had to do was ask. -Now it should be easy to smuggle the blankets into the yard. - -Tim fetched the wooden laundry buckets. He and Red stripped their bunks -and folded their blankets, squashing them into the bottoms of the -buckets and covering them with a scattering of dirty underclothes they -had rounded up from the men along the corridor. - -At four o’clock Addison and another guard trudged up the stairs. -Red took one bucket and Allen the other. Tim looked over the room -for the last time. A few deft motions of Mills’s skillful hands and -the blankets and boots and scraps of clothing would convince the -unsuspecting Addison. - -For the hundredth time Tim slapped the pocket where he kept Kate’s map, -and heard the reassuring crinkle. At the end of the corridor Peter -Mills stood close to Dawson. - -When Addison saw the buckets he ordered the men to halt. “You can’t do -your washing now,” he said. - -Red said, “The stuff’s dirty. We want it to soak.” - -“Soak it up here.” - -Tim broke in. “Captain Senn gave us permission to take it to the yard.” - -“Well, bring it along,” Addison mumbled. - -Devil lounged in the Navy kitchen door, picking his teeth with a -splinter of wood. Allen and Red set the buckets by the door. - -As they started their walk Tim studied the guards. Except for the tall -young private, they certainly were a sorry lot. - -Mills and Dawson stood with a knot of men watching a game of dice the -prisoners had started near the cookhouse wall. - -It seemed to Tim that familiar things weren’t familiar any more. The -barred windows in the jailhouse wall, the lamp, the sentries with their -guns and glistening bayonets, the color of the earth, the skeletal -branches of the spindly trees that rose above the cookhouse roof, -seemed like things in a distant dream. - -At last Devil stopped them with a wave of the hand. “Stop your walking -now,” he said, “and watch the game.” - -One of the players took out his watch, looked at it and put it away -again. He spat on the dice and threw them once more, then gathered -them up. “Well, that’s it,” he said in mock disgust. - -Red lowered himself to the doorsill and swung into the Navy kitchen. -Allen handed the buckets to Devil, who handed them to Bell with a bow -and flourish. - -A guard shouted, “Break up that game.” - -Allen started a good-natured scuffle with Frazer, who was stupidly -facing the kitchen door. - -Tim dropped behind the screen of men and scrambled into the kitchen, -cracking his shin against the sill. - -Red was already out of sight. Tim lost no time in rounding the boiler -and kneeling with Red behind a stack of wood which was topped by towels -and rags that hung from the line. Devil had built up the woodpile high -and solid so that the men would have a place to hide. - -Tim tried to look out between the towels but Bell had hung them so that -they overlapped. - -Bell’s hand came around the boiler, and one blanket and then another -tumbled over Tim’s head. He drew them away, smiling in spite of -himself, and shoved one toward Red. - -Bell whispered, “Bull Head’s in the courtyard now.” - -Tim thought about the dummies. He hoped that Addison’s eyes were as -dull as they looked. - -Now Devil’s voice came deep and quiet. “Don’t worry. Bull Head’s gone -inside again. You have nothing to fear from that thickheaded lout.” - -Bell said, “The wagon came at half past three. Aunty left some things -for you. We put them in the packs.” - -At four thirty Addison sounded off again. “Time to go back inside.” - -Tim could hear the shuffling of the prisoners’ feet and their mumbled -talk. He heard the slam of the jailhouse door. Then he heard a most -unwelcome sound. Senn’s voice came loud and clear from somewhere in -the yard. The guard was changing, and Senn was giving his sentries -instructions. Tim glanced at Red’s face, dimly lit behind the towels -and rags. Red whispered disgustedly, “The man has no business here.” - -“No talk,” rumbled Devil. “Senn will leave soon. There. He’s starting -for the jailhouse now.” - -Tim heard Senn’s footsteps passing close. His boots scraped the earth -by the jailhouse. The door creaked open, then clanged shut. - -Devil went about his work. He clanked the pots and dropped firewood and -sang Navy ditties, as he always did. - -Bell was watching at the door, and after what seemed an eternity he -turned back into the room. “Nothing to worry about in the yard. The -guards are as usual. It’s getting dark.” - -Tim wondered what was happening in the jail. - -When Devil and Bell had finished their work they hailed a guard to take -them to the Navy mess. The guard came into the shack and offered to -help. - -“Well, sure you can help,” said Devil hastily. “Here, Bell, grab one -handle of the tub of mush and let the guard help on the other side.” - -Tim heard a scraping of feet as the men left the kitchen and he heard -Devil whisper, “You boys hold tight!” - -Tim and Red sat quiet. They had no way of knowing whether a guard was -near. Tim could hear someone working in the Army kitchen. He couldn’t -remember who was cooking tonight. - -Devil and Bell came back to the kitchen, Devil talking all the way so -that the hidden men would know who they were. - -Tim began to feel cramped. His legs ached and he wished he could shift -his position a little, but he was afraid he might bring down the pile -of wood. - -Devil said, “It’s dark enough for you to go right now, but Senn is -still in there, prowling about.” - -A few minutes later Bell said, “We’ll have to go back inside right -soon, I’m afraid, and there’ll be no noise to cover your passage -through the window and the shed. Let us know when you want to take the -risk.” - -Devil finished his work and he and Bell sat around, talking as -naturally as they could. - -Tim heard someone open the door to the yard, and Senn’s voice came -again. - -“Looks as if the game is up,” whispered Bell. - -“Good evening, gentlemen,” said Senn. “How is it you’re still here?” - -Devil said, “We were talking about old times and such.” - -Addison’s voice sounded just outside. “Shall I take them up?” - -Senn stepped inside. “Not just yet.” - -The rickety floor creaked and bent. Senn kicked lightly at the pile of -wood. “Why in the name of common sense do you keep that much wood in -here?” - -Devil gave a hollow laugh. “I like to have a lot on hand. Saves us -going to the shed over and over again and bothering the guards and -that. Say, Captain Senn,” he said getting to his feet, making the floor -rock still more, “did my money ever come from home?” - -“No.” Senn cleared his throat. “That wood should be taken back first -thing tomorrow. You’ll set this place on fire.” - -Through a chink in the pile of logs Tim saw something move. It was one -of Senn’s boots. Tim stared at the polished toe as if it were the head -of a rattlesnake. Then he saw it move again. Senn was going toward the -door. “Corporal, now you can take them up. Boys, don’t forget that -wood.” - -As he stepped on the sill the floor boards groaned and a piece of wood -tumbled off the top of the stack. - -“See what I mean?” said Senn. “That’s too much wood.” - - - - -CHAPTER FOURTEEN - - -“Come now, boys,” Addison said. - -Tim heard one of the sailors raising the lantern glass and blowing out -the flame. Now the kitchen was dark. The sailors left. - -The Army cook was ordered into the yard and Addison summoned another -guard to go with him when he took the cooks back to their quarters. - -It was customary for at least two guards to pace the courtyard all -night long. The guard changed at nine in the evening and again at one -and five. They usually hung a lantern by the wagon gate and one from -the corner of the woodshed roof. There was also the lamp on the wall by -the jailhouse door. - -Now in the silence Tim could hear the settling of the stove as it -cooled. Red shifted his weight and the floor creaked. There was no -sound from the courtyard. - -Tim’s knees began to hurt where they pressed against the wooden floor. -He twisted his shoulders to relieve the numbness in his arms. He felt -for his haversack and ran his fingers over its bulging sides. He turned -to Red and whispered softly, “I hope the packs will go through the -window.” - -Red whispered back, “I just hope we’ll fit through.” - -Then, like a pistol cocking and firing, the jailhouse door opened and -slammed. Footsteps crossed the yard, and Senn spoke to one of the -guards. “Let me out the wagon gate and mind you fasten it well behind.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -When Senn had gone one of the guards said, “The old boy’s a worrier, -sure enough.” - -During the past few days Tim and Red had observed from their cell -as the guards stood evening watch. When Addison and Senn had left, -the guards usually stood together and talked by the wagon gate, or -sometimes--if they thought they weren’t being watched--they played a -game of cards. - -Now that Senn had gone the guards would probably be slack in performing -their duties. But if they stayed close by, it would be much worse than -if they paced the yard. Tim wondered if the chance to escape might not -be lost. If only they had been able to get through the window while -Devil was kicking up noise. - -Now one of the guards was walking around the yard. He stopped not -far from the cookshack and talked to the other, who must be near the -woodshed door. “Does that fatheaded corporal watch the yard?” - -“He sleeps between the change of guard.” - -“Let’s play cards by the wagon gate.” - -“It’s a sight warmer right here.” - -“We’d better stay by the gate in case the captain comes back that way. -He wants a guard by the gate right through the night.” - -Their footsteps sounded again as they walked to the gate. - -Tim’s eyes were accustomed to the dark and he could see the shape of -Red waiting patiently beside him. A slight yellow light behind the -towels must be filtering in from the lamp by the jailhouse door. - -Red whispered, “There may not be a better time than this. Let’s go.” - -Tim stood up slowly, listening for a sound in the yard. He faced the -window and put both hands on the bricks at the bottom of the opening. -The frame had been so loose that Devil had taken it out and set it in -the corner beside the stove. Red straightened up and stood beside Tim, -ready to help him if he could. - -Tim drew his elbows in to his sides so that he could wiggle through the -narrow space. He pulled himself off the floor, and as he did so a brick -came away and went tumbling and crashing to the floor. - -Both men ducked. Tim could feel the thumping of his heart as he -listened for the guards. - -One of them said, “What was that?” - -“There’s nobody in the yard but us. Must be outside.” - -“We better look around.” - -Footsteps sounded close and the woodshed door creaked. “Nothing here.” - -Lanternlight flashed in the door of the Navy kitchen. Tim could hear -the hissing of the dying embers in the stove. A voice sounded loud. “No -sign of anyone in here. Must have been outside.” - -The guards looked into the Army kitchen and went back to the wagon gate. - -Tim felt again and found that the wall was rotten all around the -window. The mortar had dried and crumbled. One by one he loosened the -bricks and handed them to Red, who set them in a pile on the floor. He -hoped Devil could put them back, or at least conceal the work so that -other prisoners could use this route at a later time. - -By the time Tim reached firm brick there was a gaping, ragged hole -in the wall. Tim tried again, this time with a boost from Red. He -scrambled up and perched in the opening. All he could see was the light -of a lantern burning slits of yellow through the cracks in the boards -of the shed wall. - -One of the guards said, “You wouldn’t try to cheat on me?” - -The other guard laughed. “Cheat you? Hell, Randy, you know I’m not a -cheatin’ man.” - -Tim scrambled across and stepped blindly onto the pile of wood. There -was a rumble as the pieces settled but his foot held firm. He waited -again, listening. - -The guards kept chattering about their game, and Tim felt around with -his other foot. He looked back through the opening. Red’s face was -white and still, then it disappeared and appeared again. He handed the -blankets through, then the packs. Tim reached for them one at a time -and threw them gently so they came to rest by the missing board. Then -Red came through. He was bigger around than Tim, and somehow his blouse -got caught on the edge of the ragged opening. He tried to move forward -but the brass buttons on the front of his blouse were caught fast. - -Tim grasped Red’s shoulders and felt a kind of rhythmic pulsing motion. -Red was shaking with uncontrollable mirth. “You madman,” Tim whispered -in Red’s ear. “You’ll give the show away.” - -Tim kept his hands on Red’s shoulders until the shaking stopped. Red -wriggled free and eased himself to the pile of wood. - -Tim felt for the fence. His hand ran swiftly across the boards, but -they all seemed firm. He gave the middle one a smack with the flat of -his hand, and it hinged outward with a sudden creak. - -A guard said, “Someone’s stirring in the alley yonder. Maybe we should -take a look.” - -“You’re as bad as Captain Senn. What happens outside is none of our -worry. What’s got into you tonight?” There was a mumbled answer. - -Tim worked himself around and stuck his head out into the alley. He -looked along the jailhouse wall toward the front of the jail. A feeble -light from one of the windows struck the worn cobbles and dry grass. -There was no one in sight. - -Slowly he worked his way around and looked the other way, not daring to -pry the board up farther. A row of houses faced the back of the jail, -lamplight showing in some of their windows. No one was in the street at -the back, as far as Tim could tell. He pried the board upward, crawled -into the alley, and reached back for the blankets and haversacks. Then -he held the board up so that Red could come through. - -For a moment both men crouched in the alley beside the fence. Then they -slipped their haversacks over their shoulders and folded their blankets -over their arms. Tim grabbed the end of the board, and ever so slowly -put it back, setting the points of the nails in the holes and shoving -them in as best he could. - -The two men straightened up at last. Tim could feel the blood working -into the numbness of his legs and arms. - -The night was chilly but the air was clear. - -They headed toward the back of the jailyard, going quietly so that they -could pass the card players without being heard. - -When they reached the corner of the fence Tim looked cautiously south, -then north. He gave a sign that the street was clear and crossed with -Red at his side. The railroad ran a block or so east, just beyond the -gardens at the back of the houses that faced the jail. - -The men dodged into an alley between two of the houses and found their -path blocked by a shaft of lamplight coming from the first-floor window -of the house on their right. The light marked a yellow rectangle on the -clapboard wall of the other house. Tim was about to duck the window and -move into the garden at the back when a dog started barking behind the -house. - -They waited quietly against the wall until the barking stopped, then -retraced their steps. The street was still deserted, so they walked -north at a moderate pace, turning to the left at the end of the block, -rounding the corner of a darkened house and heading for the railroad -track. The dog started barking again, and their impatience got the -better of them. They ran along the side street, scrambled across the -track and down the embankment and headed north. - -The track passed through a thinly settled part of town, and as they -moved Tim felt a sudden exhilaration. Now it seemed unlikely that they -would be seen before they had gained the shelter of the woods. - -The stars gleamed bright between moving clouds. - -Now the embankment had disappeared and the ties lay on the ground, -not sunken as they sometimes were. The men walked beside the rails, -through a grove of trees, and--without the slightest warning--came on a -tumble-down shack. - -A good-sized dog was chained to a tree close by the shack and he barked -and growled as if the devil was clawing at his throat. - -[Illustration: South Carolina Railroads, 1863] - -Tim and Red moved right along, but the door of the shack swung wide -and a man stood, big and silent, silhouetted in the light. Tim stopped -and raised his hand. “Good evening,” he said. “Sorry to pass so close.” - -The man didn’t answer and Tim turned to go. A voice boomed out above -the snarling of the dog. “Come here, Yankees.” - -They turned and faced the door. Tim hesitated, then moved toward the -light. The fellow was a Negro. His skin was dark as ebony. He looked -as if he could break a man in two with a flick of his wrist. He half -turned toward the menacing dog. “Hush,” he rasped. Then he cocked his -head. “I see I was right.” - -Tim looked straight at the man but didn’t speak. - -Now the colored man rumbled, “I should turn you back. But I don’t care -a damn for this War.” He lowered his head like an angry bull. “I don’t -trust any man, white or black. Get out.” - -Tim started to speak, but the big man moved his hand through the air -in front of his eyes as if he were pushing aside a rock. He raised his -voice. “Get out!” - -As they moved away Tim shivered. His spirits sank. The encounter had -seemed an ill omen. - -Off to the left the river glistened in the starlight. As they walked -beside the track they crossed a highway at the edge of town and finally -gained the shelter of the woods. - -Now the river ran close to the track and they could hear the sound of -water against the rocks. As their eyes grew accustomed to the starlight -they saw dashes of white where the river flowed by little islands and -around the rocks. - -They passed through thickets of dark undergrowth and crossed little -streams that trickled and bubbled on the way to the river’s edge. The -air seemed incredibly clear and the landscape fresh and sweet. They -mounted a hill and stood for a moment at the top, looking back. The -lights of the city winked in the distance, but there was no sign of -pursuit. - -They rolled their blankets and tied them around the tops of their -haversacks. As they turned to go forward again the sound of a church -bell came to their ears--a sound they had heard through the silent, -sultry nights of summer, the cool nights of fall. It carried with it -the memory of months of imprisonment. - -Tim drew in his breath, and Red spun around and led the way down the -hill as if his house was in view, his wife and son waiting in the -doorway. - -They walked on level ground beside the track for an hour or so, then -down a gentle slope. At a point where the river cut close to the track -the ground grew soft, and they stepped across the rails and walked -from tie to tie. The ties were spaced so that walking was difficult, -and they were thinking of trying the ground again when they found -themselves on a rickety trestle that shook as they walked. - -Red went more slowly now. He stumbled and caught himself. “Watch that -one, it’s rotten,” he said in an unsteady voice. - -“Take it slow. This trestle can’t be long. There’s no sound of water. -There’s nothing but swamp down there.” - -“We can thank our stars the trains are few and far between.” - -Ahead of them the track disappeared into the gloom. The trestle -stretched on and on, and they walked until they lost all sense of time. -Red stopped from time to time to test a tie that he imagined might be -weaker than the rest. It was clear he didn’t like the work. - -Once he tried to look at his watch, but he couldn’t see the hands and -the matches were in one of the haversacks. They must have broken out -of jail at six thirty or seven. Tim couldn’t imagine what time it -might be now. It seemed they had walked this trestle since the dawn of -creation. - -Tim noticed the signs of exhaustion in himself. He felt inclined to -stagger, and he knew he might fall headlong into the gulf below. “Stop -a moment,” he said. “Let’s rest.” - -Red’s shoulders slumped. He turned slowly and sat on one of the rails, -with one boot on a tie and the other dangling. “How soft we are.” - -“Walking these ties would tire a coolie.” - -Tim ached in every joint and muscle. He wanted to stretch out on a tie -and go to sleep. “We’d better move on soon,” he said. “We have to find -cover by dawn.” - -Red laughed dryly. “It all seemed such a lark when we sat in the jail -and made the plans.” - -Tim stood up and edged around to take the lead. He tried the next tie -with his foot, and they moved on again, stepping as before, each time -with an awkward little hop. - -They hadn’t gone five hundred feet when the trestle ended and the track -reached firm ground again. They moved into another wood, jogged down -a slope and jumped across a rushing stream. They traveled through the -night, moving from lowland to higher ground and back to lowland again, -crossing half-a-dozen trestles shorter than the first. - -They stopped just short of another wood and faced each other and -realized that now there was light. - -Red swayed, his back to the rosy glow in the eastern sky. His face was -haggard, his eyes were sunken. He blinked and shook his head and turned -to look back. - -Tim grinned. “There’s one thing certain. No hound in heaven or hell -could follow that route.” They left the track and struggled up a -heavily wooded hill looking for a likely bivouac. - -“We’re still too near the track,” Tim said. - -Finally they saw an upturned oak. Its roots formed a sheltered niche -shielded on one side by a little pine. They took off their haversacks -and opened them. They saw at once that Devil had outdone himself. On -top of Red’s pack was a folded poncho, thin and patched but good to -sleep on, nevertheless. Red spread it out. “No wonder I’m tired,” he -said. “I was carrying a heavier load than you.” - -Tim found a dozen hard-boiled eggs, a small flask of brandy and a -good-sized canteen. “It seems I was carrying an extra load too.” - -Red flicked the canteen with his finger. It made a hollow sound. “This -thing is empty. The poncho weighs more than the canteen, the brandy and -the eggs combined,” he said. “Let’s eat an egg. I wonder if they’re -stuffed with caviar.” - -Tim finished off his egg and together they studied the map. It showed -the rail lines leading away from Columbia. The trestles weren’t shown, -and the route of the previous night was marked as an innocent curve. -Considering the quality of Kate’s work, the map she had copied must -have been less than complete. - -At a town named Alston the railroad would fork, the northern branch -ending at Spartanburg. - -“I hope we’re close to Alston now,” said Red, “but I doubt that we’ve -covered twenty miles.” - -“I doubt it too.” - -They spread out their blankets. - -Red settled down and Tim put away the remaining eggs. “We owe Devil a -vote of thanks.” - -“Unless we’re lucky, we can thank him in person.” - - - - -CHAPTER FIFTEEN - - -The sun shone through the trees. Tim was chilled to the bone. He wished -he had an overcoat. - -Red gave no sign of waking. Tim thought, Today is Friday. He unbuttoned -his blouse and pulled out a little black book marked DIARY 1863. It was -closed with a tab that slipped through a loop. He pulled out the tab -and riffled through the pages. The first half of the book was filled -with entries, but the period of imprisonment was almost blank. On some -of the pages he had penciled “Letter from Kate” or “News of home,” but -he’d long since neglected the daily entries. It had made him unhappy to -count the endless chain of wasted days. - -He found the page and the date, Friday, December 11, and he took out -his pencil and wrote: - -“First day of freedom since last July. How long will it last?” He -flicked through the pages ahead and came across Friday, December 25. He -thought, with a smile, just three more weeks to buy a present for Kate. - -Tim heard a crackling of twigs and a rustling of leaves behind the -trees at a little distance. He lay perfectly still. At first there was -no sound, then the crackling resumed, a little nearer. It seemed as -though someone, knowing they were there, was approaching with caution. - -Tim shook Red’s shoulder gently. Red turned, sighed sleepily and -opened one eye. Tim pressed his finger to his lips, and Red jerked his -head off the ground and listened. Again there was no sound. Then the -crackling came again, this time slightly farther off. - -Red’s eyes had a haunted look, as if he were dreaming a very bad dream. -He whispered, “I can’t go back to jail again. Let’s make a run for it.” - -Tim shook his head. They lay still for what must have been a quarter of -an hour. - -Tim pointed out a gray-clad soldier behind some undergrowth, but -as they looked the soldier seemed to dissolve. “We’re having -hallucinations,” he said. “The noise I heard could have been any one of -a thousand things.” - -They folded their blankets and rolled them. - -Tim set about repacking his haversack. He picked it up, pulled out his -extra underclothes and socks and turned the pack upside down. A bright -little object fell to the ground and Tim leaned over and picked it up. -“Devil put in a compass,” he said. - -“The man’s been good to us.” Red took a deep breath. “Let’s take a -chance and move by day, at least till we see some signs of life.” - -There was no water, so they took their cornmeal dry. Tim ran his tongue -around his teeth. “My mother used to call this stuff ‘rokeeg.’ I -remember we didn’t like it much.” - -“Tastes change.” - -They moved briskly through the woods. - -They came to a stream and knelt to drink. Tim filled the empty canteen. -They moved on, crossing streams and small swamps and skirting a couple -of little farms. - -About noon they came to a cultivated field with some cornstalks still -standing around the edges. They found five ears and kept them for -cooking when they found a chance to build a fire. - -They walked along the edge of the field until they saw a house, then -moved to the shelter of a thinly wooded plain. - -They had to go slowly so that they wouldn’t be seen. By now Captain -Senn would have spread the alarm. - -Tim noticed that Red walked with spirit again. Rest and food had made -the difference. - -Shortly after noon they reached another stretch of open land. They -faced a field of tall grass. - -At a distance of half a mile or so, against a forest of dark pines, -stood the white frame houses of a little town. Tim hooked his thumbs -over his belt. “Unless we make a wide circuit we can’t get through here -at this time of day. There must be farms all around the town.” - -“Let’s settle down a while.” - -They studied the town. A rider moved across the field at quite a -distance, his figure showing above the tips of the grass. They heard -the barking of distant dogs. Tim said, “I’m thinking we better travel -at night till we get to North Carolina.” - -Off to the right, with the trees at its back, was a pile of wood, -probably left there years before when the land had been cleared. The -men took off their haversacks and settled in the grass, leaning against -the stack of wood. Mud wasps had made their home in one of the logs and -they circled overhead. - -Red looked at his watch. “Three thirty.” He wound the watch and put -it into his pocket again, his chin dropped to his chest and he slept. -Tim tried to sleep but found he couldn’t, so he looked at the sky and -consoled himself with the thought that one of them should act as a -sentry, anyway. - -He was reminded of the summer before he had joined the Army when -he’d worked at Quigley’s farm. He remembered clearing the north -pasture, hauling off stones on the old stone boat and shouting to the -shaggy-hoofed horses as they reached the wall at the edge of the wood -lot. - -When he said good-bye to Mr. Quigley the old man had shown a streak of -sentiment that Tim had never known he had. “You’ve been a good worker,” -he’d said. “I’ll miss you like the mischief, but I know you’ll do your -country proud.” - -Tim watched a pair of crows settle in the field close by. They set up a -terrible squawking, probably over a bit of corn or a dead field mouse. - -He turned his hands palms up and laced his fingers together. He made a -church steeple with his forefingers, as his father had taught him to do -when he was a boy. He remembered the poem that went with the action of -his hands: - - Here is the church - And here is the steeple. - Open the doors - And see all the people. - -The squawking and jabbering of the crows grew dim in his ears. The -shadow of the woodpile wove a pattern in the trees. - - * * * * * - -Tim’s head snapped up. He must have been sleeping for several hours. -The sky was quite dark. He was sure he had been wakened by a noise, -but now he couldn’t hear a sound. Red was very still, but Tim noticed -that his eyes were wide open. Tim looked to see what had caught Red’s -eye. Not more than fifty feet from them a man sat, rigid as stone, on -a good-sized horse. He appeared to be a farmer and he carried a musket -across his saddle. - -Red’s arm was resting by his side. Tim stealthily gripped his wrist -to let him know he was awake and wouldn’t make a noise. The horseman -scanned the field; the horse dipped his head and jingled his bridle. -The man kicked the horse’s flank and rode away, keeping close to the -edge of the field, looking both ways, as if he were on a tour of -inspection. - -Tim watched as he disappeared, and Red said, “That was a very close -call.” - -“Do you suppose he was looking for us?” - -“Lord knows.” - -They gathered up their packs and walked west toward the railroad. The -lights of the town were squares of yellow among the trees. The track -ran toward the edge of town, and they decided they would follow it -until they were close to the houses, then cut into the woods to avoid -the town. If this was Alston, they would cross the west branch of the -railroad soon. - -Shortly after they left the track they faced a bog and saw what -appeared to be a tremendous fire flickering behind a thin screen of -trees. They edged toward the light. Now they heard voices raised above -the sound of the blaze. They watched for a moment. Tim said, “Appears -to be a tar kiln or a coalpit of some kind.” - -“Whatever it is, it’s no place for us.” - -They cut deeper into the woods at the left, going close to the river -to make a circuit of the kiln. Every step on the dead-dry forest floor -sounded like a pistol shot to their uneasy ears. - -They lived a nightmare of lost direction and doubt and phantom houses -loomed suddenly in their path. They were afraid to light a match, and -they couldn’t read the compass in the dark. They stumbled over jagged -rock and fallen trees and came to a swiftly running stream that cut -across their path. They tried to find a place to cross where they could -stay dry, but there was no such place and they waded in, stepping as -best they could from stone to stone. Tim’s right foot slipped in the -deepest part and his leg went in, wetting his trousers to the knee. - -By the time they gained the other side their boots were filled with -chilly water. They emptied them and stood on the other side, numbness -creeping up their legs. - -Tim had moved the matches to a trousers pocket. He drew them out. -“Let’s chance a look at the compass.” He held the little instrument -close to his chest, and the glow of the match showed the needle dancing -back and forth. “I wonder if it works at all.” - -“It’s against a button on your blouse.” - -“So it is.” - -Tim held the compass away from himself and the needle settled down. - -By now they must have passed the town. They decided to head straight -north. - -They crossed the west branch of the railroad and found the track that -would take them closest to the North Carolina line. - -Tim struck another match and they looked at the map. There were -very few towns along their route between Alston and a place called -Unionville forty miles or so to the north. - -They walked along the track for two or three miles, and as the land -began to rise Tim said, “Let’s take a chance and roast a couple of ears -of corn.” - -Their fire kindled well. Red gazed into the flames. “At least we aren’t -in jail.” - -“The people in the country we have to cross must all know about us by -now. And most of them are hunters. They’d just as soon track a man as a -coon.” - -They took off their boots and rested their feet on a dry log. They held -the boots near the fire as they waited for the flames to flicker low. - -Tim looked at the compass and studied the map. - -They talked for a while, looking into the fire, and when the flames had -died they put the corn in the embers. - -When the corn was roasted Red kicked aside the embers and picked out -the ears. They shucked them, working fast so as not to be burned. The -kernels were orange gold and charred in places. Red said, “What a -feast.” - -“Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll find some more along the way. There was -nothing like this in jail.” - -Red held his watch to the glow of the fire. “It’s quarter to eleven. -Let’s push on.” - - - - -CHAPTER SIXTEEN - - -They spent their fourth morning in shelter from the rain. They had -circled farms, forded dozens of streams. More than once they had ducked -off country roads to avoid teams of oxen and country wagons, but as far -as they knew they hadn’t been seen. - -The rain had started an hour ago. Now it was coming down in torrents, -swelling the streams and turning the rivers to turbid floods. - -They had found a sheltered place at the edge of a deep ravine. They -had bent four closely grouped saplings, tying the top of each to the -base of another and covering them with the poncho Devil had given them. -They had made a mush of rokeeg and water and eaten the stuff. It was -tasteless now. - -They had stretched their blankets on logs laid side by side, and Red -was so tired that he slept like a baby on this bed that was something -akin to a corduroy road. - -The rain beat against the poncho and dripped through leaks, soaking -Tim’s blanket and wetting his clothes. - -He didn’t want to look at Kate’s map in the rain. The paper was thin -and he was afraid if it got wet it might come apart. They were just -east of the railroad line. He hoped they were close to Unionville. - -They hadn’t traveled as fast as they had hoped they would, but if they -could keep moving they might reach North Carolina in two or three days. -They had thought about hopping a freight as one went by, but the risk -was too great and they couldn’t ride the railroad very far. It ended at -Spartanburg. - -Tim looked across the ravine through a curtain of rain. Their prospects -couldn’t seem worse. They had eaten the last two eggs and roasted and -divided the last ear of corn. The rokeeg wouldn’t last long. - -They couldn’t hope to find friends until they had crossed the state -line, and even then they couldn’t tell a Unionist by the cut of his -clothes. North Carolina might not be the promised land. They would -have to travel a hundred and thirty or forty miles, crossing the Great -Smokies before they would see a Yankee uniform. - -Tim slept until noon and when he woke the rain had stopped and the -leaden clouds were blowing away, leaving patches of clear blue sky. - -Tim touched Red’s shoulder, and Red opened his eyes. He stared at the -poncho above his head. His face showed no emotion. He was silent for a -minute before he spoke. “Well, we bargained for this. We knew we had no -more than a fifty-fifty chance.” - -“Let’s push on.” - -They walked north northwest for an hour or so on a narrow, overgrown -road. They saw a house, then cut to the right and into a thicket where -they stumbled and kicked through the thorny undergrowth and hopped over -winding freshets that had come with the rain. When they broke clear at -last their hands were bleeding and their clothes were torn, but they -had left the house a mile behind. Tim saw a little stream that hadn’t -been muddied by the rain. - -They stood for a moment and looked around. There was no sign of life as -far as Tim could see. “Let’s take a bath,” he said. - -“Are you out of your mind, lad? It’s chilly as the devil this -afternoon.” - -“I’d like a change.” - -“Why don’t we go into town and have ourselves fitted for new uniforms? -Why do the job halfway?” - -Tim smiled. “At least we can wash our feet and change to dry socks.” - -They took out clean socks and left their haversacks at the foot of a -tree. At the edge of the stream they sat on a huge flat rock and washed -their feet, then sat still for a while until their feet were dry. - -They put on the clean socks, tied the wet ones to the flaps of their -haversacks and started walking again. - -They soon found a rutted wagon road that looked as if it were seldom -used. They were fit for travel again, but the open land and the lack of -cover along the sides of the road made Tim wonder if they should go on -in the light of day. - -Here they walked side by side. For the first time the ground grew stiff -with frost. - -A railroad whistle broke the silence. - -In three or four minutes they heard the engine, faintly at first. The -whistle sounded again, and they saw a freight train on high ground half -a mile west, chugging and rocking toward the north, leaving a trail of -smoke behind. - -“That’s the way to travel,” Red said. - -They watched the smoke until it disappeared, and when they turned there -was a herd of cows ahead of them, lumbering across the road. Tim was -about to look for cover when he noticed a boy of six or seven in the -middle of the herd. He stared at the fugitives, openmouthed. - -The cows kept moving across the road but the lad stood still until the -last of the cows had passed. Then, finding himself alone in the road, -still facing the men in tattered blue, he wheeled and ran. - -To their right the land rose gently. It offered little cover. It would -be folly to retreat along the road. Tim motioned left toward the -railroad track. “That’s as good a way as any. At least there’s a little -cover there.” - -They ran across a field and into a grove of scrub oak and pine. They -dashed pell-mell down a steep little hill and across a brook and up -toward the ridge where the railroad ran. They heard the sound of -horses’ hoofs crashing through the undergrowth across the stream. They -ducked behind a clump of weeds. The riders came into view and jumped -the stream. They reined in and looked along the little valley and up -the hill. - -Tim and Red watched unmoving as the men talked in low tones. One was -well past middle age, thin and handsome. He was hatless, his face was -tan and his head was covered with a thick mat of snow-white hair. -The other man was big and burly, a giant of a man. A gray slouch hat -sheltered his eyes. Both were armed. - -The big man shouted, “You better show yourselves. We know you’re in -this place. We saw you high-tailin’ it across the fields.” - -Tim whispered, “We better give up to save our lives.” - -They stood with their hands in the air and the rifles came up. The -horses moved close. - -The white-haired man spoke with a hint of a burr. “Are you the soldiers -who escaped from the jail in Columbia?” - -“We are,” said Red. - -“Are you armed?” - -“Not even a knife,” Tim said. - -The big man spoke. “I’ll search them.” He dismounted, and leaving his -rifle with the older man, moved forward with caution. “Step out from -behind those weeds.” - -They held their hands in the air, and the giant ordered, “Take off your -haversacks and blanket rolls.” He watched them closely. “Throw them -behind me on the ground.” - -The soldiers did as they were told and the man slapped their pockets -with the flats of his hamlike hands. Tim heard the crinkle of the map -but their captor took no interest in this. He felt the diary and the -book of photographs. “Unbutton your blouse.” - -“That’s my diary and home photographs.” - -The man’s expression didn’t change. He fumbled for the things but -couldn’t find the top of the pocket and finally he said, “Bring them -out yourself, but mind, if you try any funny stuff Mr. MacNeil will -shoot you down.” - -Tim brought out the album and the diary and held them in the palm of -his hand. The man reached roughly for the leather-bound books and -slipped them into his overcoat pocket. - -Red lowered his hands but he held them away from his sides. “Those -things are personal property.” - -The big man flushed. “You dirty Yankee muck. You’d better raise your -hands.” - -Now the older man’s voice came sharp. “Don’t talk to the prisoners that -way, Kane. These men are Union officers, prisoners of war. Give the -books to me.” - -The big man was sullen. “As soon as I tie the prisoners’ hands. We can -carry the monkeys across our saddles.” - -The white-haired man smiled, then his face grew stern. He spoke to the -captives. “If we leave you unbound so you can ride behind, will you -give me your word you’ll behave?” - -Tim smiled. “This wouldn’t be the best time to make a break. You have -our word.” - -The giant’s eyes glistened like polished flint under his shaggy brows, -reflecting his hate of Yankees in general and resentment of the older -man. - -He grumbled as the prisoners mounted freely, and was silent and -brooding as they slanted up the hill and jogged through the wood and -across the open fields. Tim rode behind the older man. - -When they had traveled half a mile or so they approached the gate of a -rambling, white two-story house with lanterns hanging at either side -of the big front door. A large barn stood behind the house and other -outbuildings beside the barn. - -The big man spoke. “I’ll lock the Yankees in my shed and station a -guard around.” - -“These men are in sorry shape. They need some food and rest and a -chance to dry their clothes. I’ll put them up here.” MacNeil nodded to -Red. “You are free to dismount. Kane, set the bundles by the gate and -find two men to act as guards and two to relieve them at suppertime and -shift with them through the night. Let them stand at opposite sides of -the house for now.” - -“If you’ll pardon me, sir, I think you’re making a great mistake. -Surely you don’t want to keep them here.” - -“Do as I say.” - -The giant rode off at a fast clip, looking back as he went. The others -dismounted and the Scotsman said, “Kane’s a good worker or I wouldn’t -keep him on.” - -Two young dogs came racing around the house, wagging their tails and -barking happily. They sniffed around the prisoners’ legs. One was a -hound with beautiful reddish-brown eyes, and the other--whose coat was -golden--looked like a cross between a sheep dog and a shaggy bear. -They wagged their tails and Tim patted them in turn. Red scratched the -chin of the shaggy one and the dogs dashed off to play again. - -The Scotsman smiled. “Would you believe that they had the same mother?” - -Tim eyed a pistol that hung at the belt of their host. - -“I think I should warn you,” the Scotsman said, “I’m the best pistol -shot in Chester County. I wouldn’t like to have to try my skill on you.” - -Tim said, “Thank you for your courtesy, sir. We have no mind to escape -just now. By the way,” he motioned toward Red, “this is Lieutenant -Kelly. My name is Bradford.” - -The man said, “Let’s go along inside.” - -A middle-aged colored man opened the door, as if at a prearranged sign. -His voice shook as he greeted his master, and MacNeil said, “These men -are prisoners but you have nothing to fear. Build fires in the west -rooms so they can dry their clothes. See that the beds are made up.” -MacNeil called after the retreating man, “And ask Jenny to fetch their -bundles from beside the gate. Be sure they carry no pistols or knives -before you take them up to the rooms.” - -“Yes, Massa.” - -“Would you care to join me by the fire?” MacNeil asked. - -They entered a long, low living room with a ceiling of raw brown beams, -plaster between them. The prisoners seated themselves at one side of a -crackling fire. Their host tossed his coat across a chair and sat with -his pistol in his lap. “How long have you been on the countryside?” - -Red pulled his beard. “Today was our fourth day, sir.” - -“How did you make your escape from the jail?” - -“We’d better not say, but we didn’t give violence to any guard.” - -“You were heading for Knoxville, I suppose?” - -“Yes,” Tim said. - -MacNeil stared at the hearth rug. “I was in a Scottish regiment years -ago. Soldiering seemed quite a lark when I was young, but a war like -this is a filthy thing.” He was silent a minute and then he said, “This -country has been good to me, and now this war is tearing it apart. Our -farms were prosperous and our people proud. I settled in Charleston -when I first came out here, and when I had a bit of money I bought this -land.” - -The colored man stood in the door. “Jenny says the gentlemen’s sacks -hold nothing much but dirty clothes. There’s a bit of brandy and a sack -of ground corn.” - -“Thank you, Luke.” MacNeil fingered his pistol and talked as before. -“It’s no good mincing words. The War is going against us now. We’re -being crushed by the industrial might of the North.” He smiled with a -trace of bitterness. “My sons would never admit it, I’m sure. One of -them went to medical college in the North but he’s a Southerner to the -core. They are both with General Lee just now.” - -Tim said, “We believe in our cause, as they do in theirs.” - -Their host looked into the fire, then studied the faces of the -prisoners. “You boys have had a trying time. It would grieve me sorely -if I saw you come to an unhappy end. The people hereabouts hate Yankee -uniforms. Twenty-two Confederate dead sleep in the churchyard down the -road.” - -A thumping came at a door at the back of the house. “That must be -Kane,” MacNeil said. - -The colored man came in again. “Mr. Kane has four guards outside. He -asks would you like a word with him?” - -“Tell Mr. Kane to send one of the guards to the second floor hall. I’ll -see him shortly.” - -MacNeil stood up, keeping his pistol in his hand. “I’ll take you to -your rooms.” - -MacNeil kept his prisoners ahead of him as he showed them the way. He -directed Red to a door in the middle of the hall and Tim to a room that -faced the front as well as the side. “Make yourselves comfortable. -Would you like some tea and a bit of bread to tide you over till -suppertime?” - -“Don’t trouble, sir,” Tim said. “Sleep is what we need right now.” - -A fresh-lit fire crackled on the hearth. Tim spread his blanket on the -floor, stripped off his clothes and hung them over the fire screen to -dry. He drew a ladder-back chair close to the hearth and turned out the -contents of his haversack and arranged the clothes on the chair. - -A pitcher and a tumbler stood on a table by the bed and a china basin -steamed on a wooden stand. Tim reached for a sponge that hung with a -towel at the side of the stand and washed and dried. He helped himself -to a drink of water, raised a window a crack and slipped between the -clean white sheets. - -One window of his room faced west and he judged by the angle of the -sun that it must be past midafternoon. He lay for a moment, staring at -the white ceiling overhead and wishing he could find pleasure in lying -between sweet-smelling sheets, but the thought of going back to the -damp, cheerless walls of the jail, the petty tyranny of the guards and -the boredom, was enough to make him sick. - -He drifted into an uneasy sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - - -Tim woke to the sound of knocking on his door and the voice of MacNeil. -“Will you join me at supper in twenty minutes?” - -“Thank you, sir.” - -The room was dark except for the flickering light on the hearth. -Outside, the gaudy sky above the nearby hills was laced across with -thin gray clouds. - -Tim struck a match and lit a lamp on the bedside table. He turned down -the wick so that it wouldn’t smoke the glass. When he had finished -dressing he looked into a mirror that hung near the lamp. His eyes were -sunken and he had a light beard. - -He buttoned his blouse and straightened the tattered sleeves, smoothed -the front. He sat on a chair to put on his boots. The boots were still -damp. His stomach was painfully hollow but after a meal he would be fit -as a fiddle. - -Tim puzzled about MacNeil. The man seemed moderate in his views. He had -a fine sense of justice and it was plain he had a core of steel. - -Tim heard voices outside and realized he hadn’t lowered the window. He -caught the sound of Kane’s voice. “It’s folly to keep them here. They -should be shut in a shed with guards all around.” - -Tim heard the whine of a dog. MacNeil’s voice had an edge of -impatience. “They shall have a meal and a good night’s sleep. They’ll -have a spell of bread and water back in Richland Jail.” - -“If I had my way I’d break their spirits now.” - -“Good night, Kane.” - -Kane mumbled sourly. There was still enough light so that Tim could -see the dark shapes of the man and his dogs as they moved into the -gathering dusk. - -Tim heard the slam of MacNeil’s front door. He lowered the window and -turned down the lamp and opened the door a crack. - -The light in the hall was dim, but he could see the guard lean forward -in his chair, his pistol pointed at the crack. “You can come out now, -hands in the air.” - -Tim did as he was told. The guard said, “Now stand there by the door.” - -Red was stirring about inside his room. His voice came loud. “I’m -coming out.” - -Red winked at Tim. The prisoners walked down the staircase ahead of the -guard. Their host waited for them in the hall. - -“Good evening,” he said. “Did you rest well?” - -Red grinned. “Thank you, sir. We did.” - -Red’s manner showed a change of spirit, and MacNeil eyed him sharply -before he asked his captives to sit for a moment by the fire. “Would -you like a glass of sherry, gentlemen?” - -Red said, “Begging your pardon, sir, but our stomachs are so empty that -it might not set too well.” - -Tim chuckled to himself and the Scotsman smiled. “Then we’ll go right -in. Luke will serve wine with the meal.” - -The table was set with a white cloth and cut glass. Silverware gleamed -in the candlelight. The vegetables were served by a middle-aged colored -woman who wore a crisp white apron and a little starched cap with -frills on top. - -MacNeil carved the chicken, a fine fat bird. - -“I noticed a rosewood piano at the end of your sitting room,” Tim said. -“Do you play, sir?” - -“Not a note,” their host said. “My daughter plays. I took her to -Greenville to visit a cousin. I’ll be happy to fetch her back again. It -was her son who saw you and gave the alarm.” MacNeil smiled faintly. -“He’s dying to see you again. We’ll put you on exhibition after dinner, -if you don’t mind.” - -Red said, “Not at all.” - -Their host was generous with helpings of chicken, and the colored woman -passed the gravy boat and vegetables several times. - -MacNeil turned to Tim. “Where is your home?” - -“I’m from a small town on the Connecticut River, a place called Stone’s -Brook. My father is the only doctor in town. Lieutenant Kelly is a New -Haven man. He left a wife and child at home.” Tim knew he was telling -more than he’d been asked. “But as for me, I’m an unmarried man.” - -Their host smiled. “You can’t be twenty. You still have time.” - -Red said, “He’s picked his girl.” - -“You’ve been serving with the Department of the South, I presume. Where -were you captured, may I ask?” - -“On Morris Island, sir, on July eleventh last,” Red said. - -“That would be Battery Wagner.” - -“Yes. Fort Wagner, we call it.” - -MacNeil fingered the stem of his glass and smiled dryly. “I guess it -earned that designation.” - -After dinner they retired to the living room and their host spoke to a -guard who sat in the hall. - -When MacNeil joined them again he said, “Some of my neighbors want to -have a look at you. I’ve decided to let them come. I want them to know -that you aren’t wild beasts.” He fingered the butt of his pistol and -said, as if to himself, “They’ll have to leave their firearms outside -the door.” - -MacNeil made small talk until the first knock sounded at the door. A -man with gray hair came into the room with his wife. - -MacNeil introduced them as Dr. and Mrs. Sellers. “Dr. Sellers is our -family doctor.” - -Soon five more people filed into the room, two women and three men, all -well past middle age. They sat stiffly at first until the manner of -their host made them feel at home. - -The doctor turned his bright blue eyes on Tim and asked in a gentle -drawl, “Do you know much about the progress of the war?” - -“Very little, sir, I’m afraid,” Tim said. “We were in jail more than -five months before we escaped.” - -Their host nodded toward the man who had asked the question and turned -to Tim. “Doctor Sellers is our only doctor--your father’s Southern -counterpart.” - -The doctor spoke softly. “In wartime we think of our enemies as -unrelenting scoundrels. Of course we know in our hearts it isn’t -so. But I can’t for the life of me see why the North must bring our -long-established institutions down.” He shook his head. “Now I’m -talking like a child. Slavery is already doomed.” - -The doctor’s wife gasped. “Surely not if we win the War.” - -The doctor said, “I’m sorry, Mary. Our lamp is burning mighty low.” - -A hard-faced woman rose from her chair. “I never thought to hear such -talk. I think I’ll be moving along.” - -A heavy knock came at the door and Kane was let in, followed by three -men, one of them with a bad limp, unmistakably Kane’s son. MacNeil -greeted the men and in the silence that followed Tim heard the yelping -and scratching of hounds. - -Kane stood, his head nearly touching one of the heavy beams, the -firelight making his face an ugly mask. He spoke in his rasping drawl. -“In the presence of your neighbors, Mr. MacNeil, I want to say it one -more time. These men should be treated as prisoners.” - -“Prisoners of war, not criminals, Mr. Kane.” - -Kane mumbled “Good night” and moved toward the door with his son and -friends trailing behind. They were followed shortly by the hard-faced -woman and one of the men who must be her husband. - -The doctor, speaking for the people who remained, said, “I bid you -gentlemen good night.” He smiled sadly. “This village was a happy place -before the War. I wish you could have known us then.” - -When his neighbors had left, MacNeil gave orders to the guard. “Station -yourself in the upstairs hall. I’ll show the prisoners to their rooms -a little later on. The night is cold. There’ll be no need of guards -outside. Two can sleep while two stand watch outside the bedroom doors. -You can set the shifts as suits you best.” - -The Scotsman set fresh logs on the fire, sat down and pressed the tips -of his fingers together. He spoke without a sign of hesitation. “Of -course I know well what’s in your minds. I can’t lift a finger to send -you on your way. If the guards are alert they can hear the slightest -sound through the bedroom doors. But suppose for a moment that you -reach the ground. Kane defers to me because he has no choice, but -there’s nothing to stop him from setting up a guard along the road and -I suspect he may have done just that. Such men will shoot to kill. Kane -has a pack of ugly hounds. Even if you had a decent start, the alarm -would soon be raised. Kane would like a chase like that. I’d give you -very little chance.” - -MacNeil tapped the butt of his pistol, then put his fingers together -again and spoke above the crackling of the fire. “Suppose you cleared -the county and the state?” Tim had the strong impression that MacNeil -was speaking exactly as he would to his own sons. “You have no -overcoats, no food to speak of.” He massaged his temples with the thumb -and fingers of his right hand. “And the last I heard, Knoxville was -under siege.” - -Red pulled at his beard. “You’ve done as much as you possibly could to -make us feel at home. You’ve restored our spirit.” - -The Scotsman looked at Red with a trace of fun on his handsome face. -Then he grew serious again. “I hope I have no reason to regret the -restoration of your spirit.” He stood abruptly. “I retire early. I’m -afraid you gentlemen must do the same.” - -Two guards stood together by a lamp that hung on the wall at the back -of the hall. They nodded their heads when they saw MacNeil. - -MacNeil said, “Lieutenant Bradford, I hope you’ll forgive me. I forgot -to get your diary and photographs from Kane.” - -“That’s all right,” Tim said. “It was quite an exciting afternoon.” - -“I’ll see that you get them in the morning.” - -There was a stir at the back of the hall and one of the guards said, -“Ho, Mr. MacNeil, here’s your grandson prowling about.” - -“Go to bed, Michael,” MacNeil said. - -“You promised I could see the Yanks before I went to bed.” - -“So I did.” - -Red said, “Good evening, lad.” - -The boy stood in the lamplight, his nightgown nearly reaching the -floor. His face was tough for a boy so young. “You look better now,” he -said. “You frightened me most to death outside.” - -Tim smiled. - -The boy said, “You’re most as good-lookin’ as people down here.” He -lowered his eyes and frowned again. “Do you have any news of my father? -Lieutenant Curtis is his name. A friend saw him wounded at the battle -of Malvern Hill.” - -Tim looked down at the boy’s unruly hair and questioning eyes. He spoke -softly. “This is a mighty big war, lad. We didn’t fight at Malvern -Hill.” - -MacNeil spoke up. “Now off to bed, Michael. Sorry I forgot to keep my -promise.” - -The boy looked up, speaking man to man. “I know you’re busy with the -Yankees and such.” - - - - -CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - - -The lamp burned low in Tim’s room. He stood still for a moment, -studying the place. The door at the back must be a closet. He took off -his boots and put them on the hearth and padded over to take a look. -The floor boards creaked but he didn’t care. Sounds in the room would -go unnoticed for a little while. - -He opened the door without a sound. The closet was empty and there was -a door at the back. Tim tried the knob but the door was locked. Boots -sounded on the floor beyond and he heard a tapping on the other side. -He answered the tapping and heard the stealthy turn of a key. The knob -moved and the door opened and Red whispered, “You game for a try?” - -“Let’s watch and listen for an hour or so.” - -Red shut the door on his side of the closet but Tim left his ajar. -He walked without stealth, as he might if he were preparing to go to -bed, and set to work packing his haversack with the things that by -now were warm and dry. There was a big tin of matches on the bedside -table. He put it into his haversack and rolled his blanket and laced -it across the top of the sack. He cleaned his teeth with a bit of salt, -regretting the loss of the taste of the dinner, and packed the brush. -He raised the lamp chimney and blew out the flame, opened both windows -a crack and hung his blouse on the polished bedpost. - -He lay on the bed with his feet toward the pillows, his chin cupped in -his hand, and looked into the cold December night. In the hall there -was a scraping of chairs and mumbled talk. Tim heard MacNeil bidding -the guards good night, and then there was quiet. - -He thought, If we don’t act now we’ll be back in jail by tomorrow -night. He felt his heart thumping against his ribs. If Kane had no -sentries outside the house, they would make an attempt. They could jump -to the ground. - -Tim moved to the window that faced the west. - -The scene was lit by a crescent moon. The leaves on the ground were -stirred by gusts of chilly wind, and deep shadows lay across the grass. - -Lamplight winking beyond the trees showed Tim that the center of the -village must be a half mile or so northwest. - -As he traced the wagon road to the edge of the trees he heard the sound -of hoofs on the frozen ground and a rider came around the bend, big in -the saddle and turning his head to left and right. The rider was Kane, -there was no doubt of that. - -As Kane came close Tim thought he saw an unlit lantern in the man’s -left hand, ready to be used as a signal perhaps. Kane was apparently -doing the job himself. He passed the house, then shortly appeared -again, riding back the way he had come. Before he reached the bend in -the road he turned to the right and rode into a field to the west of -the house. He paused in the middle, then cut back to the road again and -disappeared behind the trees. - -Tim felt suddenly cold and began to shiver. He moved quietly back to -the bed, put on his blouse and lay down to wait. - -In less than an hour Red tapped at the door again. Tim had watched -Kane make another tour much like the first. But now he was gone and -everything was still. - -Tim went to the door and whispered to Red, “You’ve seen Kane, of -course.” - -Red nodded. “But I think my sentry has gone to sleep, and there’s a -door from this room to a storeroom at the back. If we drop to the -ground behind the house, we can retrace our route for a mile or so to -confuse the dogs.” - -“Then go for the railroad as we did before. They’d hardly expect that -we’d do that.” - -As Tim grasped his boots and his haversack a floor board creaked. He -stood stock still for half a minute, then moved through the door. - -“Put on your haversack,” Red whispered. “We may have some running to -do.” - -They watched while Kane made another circuit of the farm, waited awhile -and passed into the storeroom through a very small door. The window of -the storeroom faced the back but it was smaller than the other windows -of the house. Below it was a small shed roof. “That’s a bit of luck,” -Red whispered. - -They struggled through the window and dropped to the roof and then to -the ground with what seemed like a terrible chorus of noises. They -stood for a moment, then moved along the back of the house. As they -rounded the corner and started across the side yard MacNeil’s dogs set -up a racket in an outbuilding beside the barn. The fugitives broke into -a run, keeping the house between them and the place where they had last -seen Kane. - -They gained the shelter of a stand of pines and paused to look back. -Kane soon rounded a corner of the house, clearly confused as to which -way to look. He reined in at the back of the house and looked toward -the north, then dismounted, ran up the steps and rapped on the door. - -Tim and Red retreated into the trees. When they topped a little rise -they ran along the road heading south. - -Just past a curve they found the place where the cows had crossed. Here -they left the road and cut to the west across the field and through the -grove of scrub oak and pine. - -As they ran down the hill they could hear the hounds. They reached the -little brook and ran in the water for a hundred yards or so until the -sound of the dogs was disturbingly close. Then they dashed up the ridge -toward the railroad track. - -They approached the track. They were gasping for breath and the baying -of the hounds was sharp in their ears. Lanterns bobbed at the bottom of -the hill. The hopelessness of flight struck Tim with sickening force. - -When they reached the track a new sound broke the air. The fugitives -listened and the sound came again, the shriek of a whistle off to the -south. Without a word to each other they jumped the track and ran like -madmen along the embankment. Now the hounds were close, their baying -rose above the roar of the approaching engine. A shot rang out. - -The train moved toward them, lumbering along at what seemed a snail’s -pace. The engineers must have seen the hunters. The whistle shrieked -repeatedly. - -Tim looked over his shoulder and before he knew it the towering funnel -stood above them, belching smoke and flame. The light of the headlamp -flooded the rails. - -Now the hounds were just across the track, and Kane’s figure rose in -his stirrups as his horse shrieked and reared in fright. Tim ran at -top speed, leapt to a flatcar and hung on for his life. He worked -himself onto the car, sank to the planks and rested a moment before he -looked back. - -The car behind was a flatcar, too, and Red was clinging to a stanchion -in the middle of the car. Tim jumped to his feet, and above the thunder -of the rolling cars the whine of a bullet split the air. He jumped -the coupling, stumbled over some loose timber and grasped Red’s arm, -pulling upward with all his might. The ground slid past his vision like -a crazy quilt. Something gave way and he lost his footing. He fell -backward and hit the flatcar with sickening force. - -At first his eyes were sightless and there was terrible thunder in his -ears. Someone was shaking him and slapping his cheeks. He opened his -eyes and saw Red bending over him. Tim said, “I thought I’d lost you.” - -Red pointed to his ears and shook his head to show he couldn’t hear. - -Tim lay still for a while. His head was splitting. When he raised it -the light of the moon touched Red’s face. Red’s hair was wild and his -cheek was cut and streaked with blood. - -As they rounded a curve Tim sat up and took in their situation. Ahead -of the car he had boarded was one boxcar, shielding them from the -fireman and the engineer. Behind, there were three more boxcars. A red -lantern marked the end of the train but apparently nobody rode the -last car. All the cars must be empty. They bounced and jerked until it -seemed they would jump the track. A good horseman might keep up with -the train for a while in open country, but he would find it hard in -country like this. - -They had not traveled far when they entered a wood where the trees -pressed close on either side. - -Red shouted, “How far to the end of the line?” - -“Thirty-five or forty miles at most.” - -The train thundered onto a wooden trestle. The trestle groaned and -the fish joints set up a chorus of screams. A milky mist rose from -the dark, still waters surrounding the roots of the swollen trees. It -drifted thinly through the moss and vines that hung unmoving in the -chill night air. - -Red reached under his blouse and pulled out his watch. The cracked -crystal glinted in the dim light. He stopped up one ear and pressed the -watch against the other, grinned and nodded. “Better ride less than an -hour, I should think.” - -The train jumped so much and the light was so bad that they couldn’t -read the hands through the cracks in the glass. Tim faced the rear of -the car and lit a match. It was just past ten. He blew out the match. -“Let’s jump at ten to eleven.” - -As the train left the trestle it slowed to pass through a sleeping -village, then gathered speed again. Red asked, “You want to sleep?” - -Tim shook his head and lay on his back and watched the moon and the -stars standing in the heavens as the train barreled through the night. -When they next lit a match it was quarter to eleven. Tim was uneasy. It -seemed to him the train was slowing down. He said, “Let’s jump.” - -Red got to his feet. “I’ll go first. Jump wide.” He gripped a stanchion -and watched the ground below them, blurred by the speed of the train. -The land was flat and grassy with a thicket here and there. Red reared -back and jumped into the wind and Tim followed, flexing his knees -against the shock of the ground. At the moment of jumping, the air -sucked him back while the train roared on. He hit the ground and rolled -clear of a patch of undergrowth. He felt as if one knee was twisted but -when he got to his feet it seemed all right. - -Red came out of a bramblebush, cursing and laughing. Tim stood up. -The strap of his haversack had broken and some of his clothes were -scattered on the ground. He fumbled for them while Red fixed the strap -by tying the ends together with a clumsy square knot. - -As the thunder of the train became a distant rumble Tim pointed north -across the dark landscape to the shapes of the hills beyond. “If we -walk fast, we’ll be at the border by dawn.” - -Red hooked his hands around the straps that held his haversack. “And -what does it look like, Timmy boy? Is it a bright green ribbon twenty -feet across?” - - - - -CHAPTER NINETEEN - - -As the sky grew light in the east they came to the edge of a rolling -pasture. They climbed a knob of land but couldn’t see a farmhouse or a -barn or any other signs of life, so they walked in the pasture at the -edge of a wood. They topped another rise and there was a tethered cow. -It seemed she had been there all night. Her udder was bulging and her -teats touched the tips of the winter grass. Red’s eyes sparkled. “The -poor thing is suffering something terrible, carrying such a load of -milk.” - -Tim moved up to the cow, clucking and talking in a soothing voice. He -took the tin cups and kneeled in the grass and milked. They drank and -milked, and mixed milk with rokeeg and ate a ration of mush. Tim filled -their canteen and then, in a spirit of fun, he milked straight into his -mouth. - -He got to his feet and patted the cow and she turned her head and gave -him a gentle bovine stare. Tim said, “I wish we could take her along.” - -“Might cramp our style when we cross the mountains.” - -A shout broke the air and they saw a man about two hundred yards to -the east, running with a shotgun in one hand and a milk pail in the -other. - -As they crashed into the cover of the nearby trees they heard a bang -and Red was seized by a frenzy of high-spirited mirth. “The man’s -ungrateful, that’s what he is.” - -They walked for an hour or so and sat on a patch of grass to rest. The -day had dawned clear and warmer. Tim reached for the map and spread it -out against his knee. They had made good time the night before, heading -straight north over level, lightly wooded country, following a road for -a while and crossing a deep-cut river on a stout wooden bridge. The -night had been just right for walking; just nippy enough to give them -spirit. They must be close to the border now. - -Tim marked an X where he thought they were and read the compass. They -had kept the Broad River on their left to a point a few miles south -of MacNeil’s farm. There the river had parted from the northwesterly -direction of the track, flowing straight down from the north. They had -crossed it on a high bridge. Now as they moved due north they would -strike the river again just after they crossed into North Carolina. -They made up their minds to follow the Broad until they reached the -foothills of the Blue Ridge. - -In the mountain country Kate’s map seemed less than complete, but -on the far side of the mountains, in the upper left-hand corner of -the map, KNOXVILLE was neatly lettered. The railroads and roads that -converged on the city were clearly shown. - -As Tim put the map away he slapped at his pocket and remembered that -Kane still had his diary and album of photographs. - -Tim didn’t mention his loss to Red. He lay back on the grass and -closed his eyes and tried to bring Kate’s face to mind. He started by -remembering her photograph but that didn’t work. He thought of how she -walked and danced and the way she turned her head. That brought her -alive but try as he would he couldn’t make her face come clear. - -Red chewed the end of a piece of grass. “A penny for your thoughts.” - -“You don’t have a penny.” - -“I’ll owe it to you.” - -“I wouldn’t have you carry a burden of debt.” Tim opened his eyes, -sat up on the grass and watched a little gray bird fluttering and -chirping in the underbrush. “I was trying to remember Kate’s face but -it wouldn’t come clear.” - -“Nancy’s face doesn’t often come clear any more.” Red stood up. “We -better find cover and sleep a while.” - -“We’ve been lucky. I hope it will last.” - -They walked until they found a grove of pines and laid out the poncho -and blankets and slept until just after noon. Then they found a little -stream and drank and doused their heads and moved on without eating. -They were keeping the milk to mix with rokeeg at suppertime. - -That evening the sky began to cloud. During the day they had circled -some cabins but they hadn’t seen a road or a town. Now, as it began to -grow dark, they came to a road that ran northwest and decided to follow -it. - -When they had traveled a mile or two they rounded a bend and a young -colored man and his girl appeared before them in the middle of the -road. The girl shrank back, and the man stood rooted to the ground, -staring at the strangers. - -“You have nothing to fear,” Tim said. - -The young man said, “Please don’t tell you saw us here.” - -Red laughed and moved closer. “If you won’t tell that you saw us here.” - -The young man lowered his head and strained his eyes. “Lordy, you -wearin’ uniforms.” - -The girl trembled so hard she could barely speak. “What would Yankees -be doin’ here?” - -Tim said quietly, “We’re making our way north. We haven’t had an easy -time.” - -The man studied their tattered uniforms. “Well, I guess not,” he said. -“Wish we could help you, but all the colored folks hereabouts mus’ be -inside by sundown.” - -Red said, “You can help us most by forgetting you saw us. Have we -crossed into North Carolina yet?” - -“No, Massa. Old North State is one mile more.” The man looked down at -his bare feet. “I thought to go north to fight for Massa Linkum, but I -got no shoes.” - -The girl turned to her man. “Don’t go away,” she pleaded softly. - -Red’s face was serious. “You better not try it without any shoes.” He -looked into the shadows. “Will we be safe if we travel this road?” - -The young man turned and motioned with his arm. “Go lef’ when you come -to the fork. Hide in the trees if you hear a soun’.” - -As the white men started down the road the girl called after them, “God -keep you safe.” - - * * * * * - -On the morning of the third day after they had crossed into North -Carolina they slept at the bottom of a broad cleft in a massive rock. -At the top of the rock the rift was narrow so that the crack formed a -sheltered cave. The floor of the cave was dry and the men were tired. -They slept much later than usual. - -Tim was awakened by a violent cramp. They had eaten the last of their -food two days before. He lay on his back and stared at the walls of -rock. It was bitter cold. If they hoped to go on they would have to -find food by nightfall. - -Tim studied Red’s face, thin and sunken under his bristling beard. Red -stirred in his sleep and moaned and settled down again. Tim bent his -knees and sat up, stretched, and crawled to the mouth of the cave. The -ground outside was in the grip of a heavy frost. - -Tim faced a long, steep hill dotted with poplar and spruce. At the -bottom of the hill, in a winding valley, a river glistened in the -afternoon sun and the sound of running water came to his ears. Beyond -the valley, above the delicate fringes of purple and gold, a mighty -ridge stood proud against the sky. - -Last night and in the early hours of this morning they had traveled -fifteen miles or so without a halt, pushing onward to forget their -hunger and bring themselves nearer to people who might help. Behind -them was their first high ridge. They had crossed it in the blackness -of a cloudy night, hardly aware of the dizzying heights until they -reached the top. Then, looking back, they saw the shapes of the cliffs -and rocks tumbling downward into the darkness, giving them sudden -vertigo. - -The country ahead was wild and rugged. If they had a rifle they could -live on game, but as it was they could only hope for a chance to beg. - -As Tim idly studied the valley below he thought he heard a voice. He -listened closely. It must be his imagination. There was nothing now but -the sound of water, the squawk of a crow on the wing. It came again, -louder at first, then carried away on the wind. - -In a minute or two Tim heard horses breaking the underbrush across the -river. Through the trees he could see a column of cavalry wading in, -pausing in the middle to water their horses. - -With the sun in his eyes and from this distance it was hard to see -their uniforms, but they were gray, not blue, that much was certain. - -Tim slipped back into the cave and shook Red’s arm. Red pulled back and -turned away. Tim shook his shoulder and Red sat up suddenly, wild-eyed, -as if he’d been having a nightmarish dream. - -Tim pressed his hand to his lips and motioned to Red to come with -him to the mouth of the cave. Red shook his head and blinked, then -crawled up and perched beside Tim. The cavalrymen had begun to ride up -the hill, moving now at a pretty good clip, away from the cave. Red -squinted dazedly into the sun. “Those are Federal uniforms!” - -There was something wild in his voice. He gave a shout and jostled Tim -as he burst free of the cleft in the rock and stood in full view. He -was raising his hands to his mouth, to shout again, when Tim gave him -a shove and knocked him to the ground. As Red rolled over, angry and -surprised, Tim pinned him to the ground. “Those riders are Rebs.” - -Red glared and tried to roll free, then suddenly relaxed. “Are you -positive?” - -“Positive. I was watching them before I woke you.” - -Tim peered around the rock to see if the riders had heard Red’s shout -but the last one was just disappearing behind a little rise, going the -same way as before. - -Red sat up with a haunted expression on his face. He spoke softly -without turning around. “Did they hear me shout?” - -“Apparently not.” - -Red was breathing hard. He didn’t speak. - -Tim sat down nearby, quiet for a minute or two before he spoke. “I -shouldn’t have wakened you suddenly.” - -Red’s eyes rested on the valley, watching for signs of other horsemen -following the first. - -Tim said, “It could have been I who did that.” - -“But it wasn’t. You’re just as hungry, but not so hungry that you made -yourself see ghosts.” - -“I’d been awake. I had time to consider.” - -“But think of a man like Kautz for instance. Can you imagine him doing -what I did just now?” - -“He might have made the same mistake.” Tim smiled. “Kautz would have -convinced me I was wrong.” - -“Not likely he would have made such a devilish big mistake.” - -“Kautz was a professional soldier. When you and I were fighting men -we made ourselves think as soldiers think, but Kautz thought that way -every minute of his life.” - -“You mean we aren’t soldiers any more.” - -“We’re the hunted, not the hunters, now. It changes a man. It frightens -me sometimes when I lie awake in the gray light of dawn.” - -Red smiled at last. “I wonder where Kautz is now.” - -“God knows. Maybe back with the Seventh again.” - -“I hope he is.” - -Red squinted into the lowering sun. “Let’s push on until we drop.” - -“We should take a chance, if we see a cabin,” Tim said. “Another day -without food will finish us.” - -“We better not knock on any cabin doors after dark. Someone’s liable to -shoot first and ask questions later.” - -The cavalry detachment had made them wary. They kept a careful watch as -they approached the crossing and waded in. They followed the trail the -horsemen had used until it branched east. There was plenty of water and -they drank as often as they found a spring or a mountain stream. - -As the shadows of night crept up the ridge the men were so tired they -could barely move. They were thinking of resting when Red noticed a -pinpoint of light in the gloom several hundred yards beyond them in the -direction of the ridge. “Our fate lies there,” he said. “Before we’re -tempted to knock on the door we better bed down for the night.” - -They woke before dawn. There wasn’t a sign of the light in the trees, -so they waited until the sky turned pink in the east. As they gathered -up their things and made themselves ready it seemed to Tim that he felt -even worse than he had last night. The cold sliced into his bones and -the landscape swam before his eyes. He noted that Red must feel the -same. He swayed as he struggled with his haversack. Tim felt the beat -of his heart as they started walking through the trees. - -They hadn’t traveled three hundred yards when they found themselves at -the edge of a clearing. There were stumps all around. The trees had -been cut, maybe two or three years before, and some of the land had -been farmed. In the middle of the clearing was a cabin. A curl of wood -smoke twisted away from the chimney, carried off on the morning breeze. -Behind the house was an outhouse and a shed, both rudely built. - -The soldiers moved up slowly with their hands held away from their -sides. When they were halfway up the slope a woman came around a -corner of the cabin. At first Tim thought she was unarmed. Then he saw -a pistol in her hand. Her voice came strong. “Straighten up and come -along.” When they were closer she said, in the purest mountain accent, -“I saw men play at bein’ tired before.” Then she cocked her head and -strained forward. “No, by gum, yer not play-actin’ at all.” - -The men stood on the frozen ground, swaying slightly, waiting for the -woman to make the next move. She was of medium height and probably no -more than twenty. She wore a Mother Hubbard of rough homespun cloth -drawn tight across her breasts, cinched in at the waist with a man’s -wide leather belt. Her raven hair hung loose to her shoulders and her -skin was tanned. She looked at them hard with piercing black eyes. - -Tim looked down at the gun in her hand. It was a Colt revolver, cocked, -well oiled and in good condition. The hand that held it was muscular -but a woman’s hand nevertheless. Neither man lowered his eyes before -her gaze. - -At last she spoke again in her husky twang, more quietly than before. -“You are the saddest, mos’ miserable pair of hounds I ever saw. Surely -those cain’t be soldiers’ uniforms.” - -Neither man spoke. - -She looked at Red. “You got a tongue, Redbeard?” - -Red smiled faintly. “Too tired to use it, ma’am.” - -“Well at least you got one.” She turned to Tim. “You Slim, you got a -tongue? Tell me what yer doin’ here.” - -“Making our way across the mountains, ma’am.” - -“Now don’t you s’pose that’s plain? What I mean, are you Yankees or -Rebels? That’s what I have to know.” - -Neither man answered. - -“Now you don’t know which one I am or why I should give a hang at all.” -She tossed her head. “Tell you what I’ll do. Without my help you’ll -never cross the Smokies alive. If you answer wrong, I’ll send you on -yer way.” She squinted and smiled a humorless smile. “I’d like the -truth.” - -Red stood straight and looked right into the woman’s eyes. “We’re -Yankee soldiers, ma’am.” - -The woman’s expression barely changed. “I thought as much, though I -never did see a Yankee uniform. Old Buck helped other Yankees cross the -mountains back last summer.” - -The woman’s face was still hard but she said, “Lordy, you boys are -shiverin’ somethin’ awful. Come along inside.” - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY - - -The men slept fully clothed on a wide bunk bed on a big straw mattress. -Tim stirred in his sleep, opened his eyes and propped up on one elbow. -The big, brown room was warm. The woman still sat in her high-backed -rocker, her sewing in her lap and her revolver glinting in her hand. -She was looking straight at Tim. - -She had nursed them like a mother since yesterday morning, cooking for -them and mending their clothes, and making them rest to get back their -strength. - -She had spent most of the time making overcoats from blankets. She had -cut and sewn as if the devil were after her, working with unbelievable -speed. - -Tim swung his feet to the floor and pulled his boots on. He stood on -the rough plank floor. Red still slept. Tim walked to the hearth, put -on a couple of logs and stirred up the embers. He stood with his back -to the fire. His eyes rested on the revolver in her hand. “You won’t be -needing the pistol to keep us in line.” - -The woman raised her eyes. “Are all Yankee soldiers like you and -Redbeard, good mannered and kind?” - -“I guess not, ma’am. You told me your husband and some other men from -these parts had joined with the Yankees in the West. We aren’t the only -Yanks you’ve seen.” - -She almost spat. “Why they’re not Yankees like you at all. They’re -mountainmen.” She threw back her head and laughed. “You and Redbeard -are men, don’t get me wrong. Just a different breed, that’s all.” - -She put her revolver deliberately on the table by her chair. “All -right,” she said. She looked into the fire, seeming softer and more -womanly now. - -Late that afternoon she brought in some rabbits to butcher for stew. -Red went out with Tim to cut and carry firewood. They went to a tree -that had fallen close to the little privy. Tim took the first turn with -the ax. The blade bit the bark and Red said, “Funny how she settled on -our names right away, Redbeard and Slim. That’s pretty close. But she’s -not much of a one for names. Just Missus Flint. We were lucky to find -out what name she went by at all.” - -Tim severed the trunk with a final blow and started another cut. - -“What did you talk about this morning, Mr. Slim? She’s been like -sunshine today.” - -Tim smiled. “Now she knows we’re gentlemen.” - -“I see.” - -“What a life the woman has,” Tim said, looking at the empty shed. “No -husband, no horse; cow died last spring and her hound died just a week -ago, she said.” - -“Nancy’s a sturdy little thing, but I can’t imagine her living like -this.” - -They swung through the door and stumped across the sagging floor to -watch the woman work. There were two pots swinging over the blazing -fire and she was cutting chunks of rabbit and potato into one. The -other held corn mush. Tim could tell by the smell. - -“Ma’am,” Red said, “we shouldn’t eat up all your food this way.” - -The woman finished cutting and threw the last of the bones and waste -into a cracked china bowl on the hearth. She wiped her hands on her -apron and sat in her rocker. “That’s foolish talk. I can shoot a rabbit -as good as any man, with a pistol even. This summer I grew enough corn -to feed a regiment and vegetables too. Then there’s Old Buck in the -village in the valley. He heads up a bunch o’ Union men, part of a band -they call True Heroes of America. They hide men out so they won’t have -to fight with the Rebel Army. Well, Old Buck has a store, and if I need -a thing, Old Buck gives it to me. ‘Nate Flint’ll pay when he comes -home,’ he says. I look at him straight last time an’ says, ‘Maybe Nate -Flint will never get home.’ And Old Buck purrs jus’ like a hooty owl -and says, ‘Mebbie I’ll fall outa bed tonight and break my neck.’” - -The men settled on a bench across from the rocker and all three were -quiet, just sniffing the strong aroma of stew. - -The woman stirred the pots with a hand-cut wooden spoon. She tasted -the stew and sat down, leaning forward toward the men. “Tonight I will -finish the coats,” she said. “By morning it will be two nights of sleep -and plenty of food to give you strength. You better go.” - -Tim said, “We have to go, ma’am, much as we might like to stay. About -the coats, have you used all your blankets to make them?” - -The woman’s brows went up. “I never did see such men as you. I got two -left, and one’s aplenty. I mean to cut the other one into strips and -roll them for carrying. You can wrap your feet and legs when the snow -gets deep enough that the cloth won’t wear right through.” - -“But, ma’am.” - -“It’s windy hell you boys are lookin’ for. Take my word. Don’t be soft -in your heart toward me.” - -After supper the woman leaned over the rough plank table that stood -at the side of the room, near a pallet she had made herself to sleep -on. She pulled the lamp close and blew out the flame. “I’ll have to be -beggin’ some oil from Buck the next time I go down. I can pay him with -animal skins.” - -Red scratched his beard. “Why don’t you spend the winters in the -village, ma’am? Slim and I are worried about you being alone up here.” - -The wind whistled at the corner of the cabin and the fire blazed up, -filling the room with pumpkin light and jagged shadows. “I spent last -winter in the village,” she said, “but I figured to spend this winter -here. Nate and I, we made this place with our own two hands and a few -odd tools. We lived in the village once and Nate used to hunt. But -everyone else was a hunter, too, so we couldn’t make out that way. One -day he says, ‘We’re cuttin’ loose from this village, little girl. We’ll -build a cabin in the mountains where no man can tie a string on me.’” -She faltered. “But you may be right.” - -Her eyes grew fierce in the flickering light and her hand went pale -where it gripped the table. “Jus’ last fall I was out by the shed when -two wild men came hoopin’ and hollerin’ out of the mountain, Rebel -guerillas they was. They wanted more than food and drink, it didn’t -take much to see. I had my musket and I yelled loud and clear for them -to turn away but they jus’ kep comin’, laughin’ and hollerin’, so I -picked them off, the one behind and then the other. I buried them in -the ravine over yonder.” - -The woman gave Red and Tim a desperate look. “Did I do right? I never -told another soul.” - -Red nodded. “You gave them their chance to turn away.” - -“I didn’t want to keep their horses, and I buried their rifles with -them. I slapped the horses off down the trail toward the village.” She -turned to the fire. “I’m a one-man woman. There’s no changin’ that.” - -Tim said quietly, “Spend the winter in the village. Don’t be too proud -for that.” - - * * * * * - -Next morning all three woke just after dawn. They went about their -chores as if they might have lived together in the cabin for a month -or two. Tim fetched wood and built a fire. Red pumped up water and set -a kettle on the hearth, hung the covered pot of mush on the crane, put -on logs and stirred the fire to life. The woman put on her doeskin -jacket and went outside. When she came back she said, “Laws, it’s nippy -outside.” - -Tim went to the window in the front of the cabin. The frame had been -made to hold a sash that must have been used before. A few flakes of -paint still clung to the wood. Tim studied the frost that had formed -inside the glass at the bottom. The crystals had made an intricate -pattern, like ghostly seaweed frozen in place. The morning light made -the crystals sparkle like crushed diamonds. Tim turned away and fetched -his toothbrush. He and Red took a cup of water and a pinch of salt and -went outside. - -After breakfast, when Tim looked at the window, the pattern of frost -had disappeared, dissolved by the heat of the fire. The woman had -mended their haversacks and finished the overcoats. They were great, -heavy garments, the color of natural wool. “They’ll blend with the -snow,” the woman said. - -She packed the haversacks with meat and cornmeal. They could make -corncakes. She tied a long coil of blanket wool to each sack. After -breakfast she got up from the table and went to a corner and brought -out a can. “I almost forgot the cookin’ pot,” she said. “Can’t cook -without a pot.” - -The men got up and put on the coats, admiring the woman’s handiwork -while she helped them on with the haversacks. “I reckon the coats make -the straps set different than before,” she said. - -She rolled the blankets and the poncho and secured them over the packs -with lengths of thong. - -Tim said, “You’re spoiling us, ma’am.” - -“Old Smoky won’t spoil you none, that’s sure.” - -She looked them over and turned away. She put on her jacket and boots, -took some mittens and a couple of mufflers from a backless old chair in -a corner by the fire. “Take the mufflers,” she said. “Nate went larkin’ -off when it was warm. He said the Yanks would fix him up with clothes.” - -She hung a pair of stoppered gourds around her shoulder and a pouch and -a little sack of meal. She picked up her musket and took the pistol -from the table. “Redbeard, you take first turn with the pistol.” - -Red said, “No, ma’am, you keep the Colt.” - -“I got the musket. It’s notched already and I’ll notch it agin if I -must. Take the pistol. It’s loaded and there’s a flask of powder and -some extra balls at the top of Slim’s pack.” - -Red put out his hand and took the revolver. - -“I decided to spend the winter in town.” She looked up at Tim. “It was -what you said about bein’ too proud that changed my mind. Nate used to -say I was foolish proud sometimes.” - -All three went outside, the woman carrying the musket. When the men -turned to say good-bye she said, “I’m goin’ too.” - -Red said, “But, ma’am....” - -It was the first time they had seen her smile. “Don’t worry. I -won’t foller you to camp. I jus’ want to set your feet in the right -direction.” - -The ground rose slowly, dipped to a shallow valley, then climbed again -to the ridge that stood against the sky like a shoulder of God. - -Tim said, “Go back if you want. You can point out the way from here.” - -Her tanned cheeks had a ruddy glow. She ran her hand through her hair -and tossed her head. She looked up at the ridge, then down at the -frozen ground. “I was goin’ huntin’, anyway. I’ll walk with you a -while. I don’t know Knoxville, never been there, but I know which way -it is, all right.” - -They were toughened by the walking of the past few weeks and rested -now and well fed, so that the climbing wasn’t bad at all. The slopes -abounded in mountain laurel and ginseng. Tim thought how the place must -look in spring with the shrubs and nut trees in bloom. - -They traversed a half mile of loose rock, deep and uncertain on a steep -slope. - -They stopped at the top and rested a minute. Red grabbed at a sapling -for support and the woman said, “Don’t trust yourself to little trees. -If the roots give way they take you with them down the mountain.” She -sniffed the air. “Snow soon.” - -Red said, “That ridge must be six miles from here, or more.” - -The woman looked back. Her bright eyes swept the valley once and she -picked up her musket and moved forward. - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - - -There was snow lying in patches on the northwest side of the mountain. -The shoulders of rock were scarred and barren except where earth had -clung to sheltered places, nourishing moss and scraggly pines. - -To the west the rugged land lay under their hands, pounded out by the -dizzy height, going on across the miles until it met the sky. The -branches of the distant trees, stripped bare by cold and wind, wove a -feathery texture of browns and reds, deep violets interrupted by the -dusky green of spruce and pine, tall enough, no doubt, to dwarf a man, -but in the distance seeming no bigger than scraps of moss. - -Red stood with his hands on his hips, his beard pointing toward the -distant land, his face showing wonder and fear, as if God had taken him -by the hand. - -The woman was first to turn away. There was love in her face. “It was -here I saw the last of Nate.” - -Tim’s thought was so strong it almost said itself out loud. She knows -he won’t come back. - -The woman pointed in the direction they’d come. Just to the left of -a slate-colored shadow on a hill far below they saw a curl of smoke. -“Smoke from our cabin,” she said. “I left a fire on the hearth, -remember?” - -As they watched the smoke, snow began to fall. The flakes were small. -They could almost be counted at first, little pinpoints of white. Then -they filled the distance, and the hills and ridges all around were -washed across with a milky haze. The flakes came faster. They were -larger now, and one by one the landmarks were engulfed in a sea of -white, leaving just the swirl of snow and silence everywhere. - -The woman patted her sack of meal. “Time for food,” she said. - -They found a sheltered place in an angle of rock and the men gathered -bits of dead pine for a fire. The woman took off her mittens and worked -with her swift, brown hands, slicing meat from a skin pouch that hung -at her side and stirring cornmeal into the can. - -When they finished eating, the woman scraped the can clean, rinsed it -and heated more water. She sprinkled in tan-colored crystals of sugar -to make a kind of cambric tea. “I’d lace it with liquor from your -little flask but you’d best keep that for future needs.” - -The snow was falling more slowly now. The woman motioned toward the -west. “The hills we saw a while ago,” she said. “Nate told me some are -jus’ as high as this one, though they don’t look so big from here. I -reckon they’re jus’ as windy and jus’ as cold.” - -As they packed up their things the snow stopped falling and the air was -like crystal again. The sun burst free from the clouds and made the -ground a burning white blanket. - -The woman pointed west. “You see that distant pass? Knoxville’s through -that way. Old Buck told Nate. Old Buck went there many a time. If I’d -asked him, Buck would have showed you the way. That’s jus’ the trouble. -Buck is old and kinda tired. He should keep himself warm in wintertime.” - -The smoldering fire sent a thin signal into the air. The woman kicked -at the sticks and smoke twisted lightly against the sky. The woman -looked at the men with steady eyes, and when she saw that Red was about -to speak she turned without a word, and walking slowly the way they had -come, slanted down the hill with the sure step of a mountain creature. -She turned back once and stood a few seconds against the whiteness. A -gust of wind riffled her hair like the mane of a coal-black mare. She -raised her hand and turned away and disappeared. - -Tim was just about to reach for the compass to find the direction in -case the snow closed in again when he heard the sound of horses’ hoofs -against the shoulder of rock and voices raised. - -Red brought out the Colt revolver and held it at his side. The jingle -came clear, and grunting and talking--rough as grit--somewhere beyond -the rock. One voice broke clear. “I think they’re jus’ behind that -rock.” - -A shot sang out from the other side of the ridge. Red moved fast and -quiet around the rock, with Tim just behind. They heard a man say “God -amighty!” An answering shot split the air. - -Tim and Red rose slowly, so that they could see beyond the rock. Two -men had dismounted. They were bending over a fallen third. A short -grisled man, built like a gorilla, held a rifle at the ready, and the -other--a young, dark-haired man--clutched a shotgun in his hand. Red -took aim and caught the short man square in the head. The man’s body -slumped to the ground and two of the horses rose on their hind legs, -whinnied and bolted in terror. As the third man grabbed at the bridle -of his horse Red straightened up, holding the revolver. Suddenly he -lost his footing on a slick of snow and sprawled on his face, the -pistol spurting out from under him. - -Tim reached the third man at a bound and knocked him flat with a blow -that sent his shotgun spinning into the snow. Red gained his feet as -the man rolled over. He leveled the pistol at the man’s head. The man -went pale and raised his hands. - -Tim said, “I’ll see to Missus Flint.” - -Tim followed her footprints across the snow. She lay face down, a -still, dark shape against the glare. As he walked a numbness moved -along his legs and the pumping of his heart beat like thunder in his -ears. - -She was quiet as night and her pulse was still. He turned her over. -Blood had soaked her doeskin jacket and stained the snow. With his -thumb and middle finger he felt for her eyelids and gently closed her -unseeing eyes. - -He rose to his feet, a fist of anger burning in his chest, and walked -slowly toward Red and the other man. - -When the man saw Tim’s face he started to shake. Tim reached out his -hand and took the revolver. He pointed it straight at the man’s heart. -“Who killed the woman?” - -“Not me,” the man breathed. - -“You lie.” - -The man sank to the ground, his knees skidding foolishly in the snow. -“Oh no. Great God,” he screamed, swaying and gesturing toward the -stocky man. “It was Billy, there. Sure enough it was. And even so, the -woman shot first.” - -Red said, “I believe he speaks the truth.” - -The man stopped swaying. “I tolt the truth. They teased me cruel about -my shootin’.” He jerked his head in the direction of the shotgun. “Else -why would they have given me that crooked piece?” The man pointed to -one of his eyes. “Look here at my wanderin’ eye....” - -Red said, “Shut your face.” - - - - -CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - - -Red slept, but Tim was too cold to sleep. He looked up at the boughs -of the sheltering tree. He gazed into the cold night sky. A full moon -was shining somewhere behind the pines. The wind moaned softly in the -boughs, filling the valley with mournful music. The brighter stars -winked clear in the crystal air. Tim rolled out of his blanket and -moved away from their camp, swinging his arms and working his knees to -restore circulation. - -He sat in the open on a jagged rock and picked out fragments of -constellations. There was Pegasus to the west, and if he turned his -head he could see Orion’s Belt above a hill in the east. - -This was their second night under the stars since the death of the -woman. - -Tim had kept his mind on things that lay ahead. He had dreamed of home, -of sleigh rides and skating on the pond behind the schoolhouse and -thawing out in the blacksmith shop. - -Now he remembered a winter so cold that the river had frozen clear -across. He and Peter Gleason had skated all the way to the other side. -Cold was fine, as long as you could thaw out, sitting by a fire with a -cup of chocolate in your hand. - -For the first time he let himself think back to the thing that had -happened on the ridge. - -They had stripped the cartridges off the dead men and taken their -firearms. They had left the bodies where they had fallen. They had -ordered the third man to mount his horse and had sent him on his way, -burbling off a stream of thanks for sparing his life. - -The ground had been frozen solid and they’d had no tools for digging, -anyway, so they had buried Missus Flint under a cairn and set her -musket, muzzle down, in the top of the pile of rocks. - -When they had turned to go Tim had looked back again the way they had -come. Smoke had still curled above the cabin. - -Tim studied the stars again, trying to remember the pictures they made -and which way was right side up. Then he gave it up and went back to -his blanket. As he lay there he remembered a far-off day in spring when -he had walked with Kate. All at once she had picked up her skirts and -started to run. - -He remembered having been in a solemn frame of mind. Somehow he hadn’t -caught her spirit. She had stood in the path and waited for him, -suddenly serious, trying to share his solemnity. - -Now he closed his eyes and her face came clear. He drew his blanket -close around him and went to sleep. - -Tim woke up before the sun had cleared the hills. Snow had fallen -during the night and their blankets and coats were sifted over with -flakes. Tim looked down at his feet, wrapped now in the strips of -blanket wool. The cold had numbed his feet and hands, and when he felt -his face it seemed like ice. - -He woke Red and they made breakfast. When they finished eating they -pushed on into the wilderness of white. When they had walked for an -hour or so they came to a stream that tumbled through a gorge, into a -valley below. Their route lay across the stream and they were scouting -along it to find a crossing when Tim caught sight of something moving -in the trees in the valley below. He grabbed Red’s sleeve and together -they watched as three horsemen made their way south along the valley. -The horsemen were several hundred yards below, but the air was clear -and the sun struck their uniforms. This time there was no room for -doubt. They were Yankee soldiers. - -Red cupped his hands and shouted. The horsemen stopped, turning their -faces up. Tim waved his arms above his head and he and Red jumped -carelessly into the water. They ran down the hill, slipping and -skidding on the snow-covered rock, their firearms knocking against the -coats Missus Flint had made them. The ends of their mufflers flapped -behind them. - -As they approached the horsemen they looked into the muzzles of Yankee -firearms. - -One held a pistol. He wore no visible insignia. He had a black pointed -beard and bright eyes. The visor of his cap stuck out from under a blue -knitted scarf that was tied around his head. He carried a sword in a -brightly polished sheath. “Stop there,” he said, “and raise your hands. -Who are you and where have you come from?” - -Red gave their names. “We escaped from a jail in Columbia, South -Carolina. We came across the mountains.” - -The man smiled faintly, studying their overcoats. “Looks as if you -might have had some help along the way.” - -Tim nodded. “Without help we wouldn’t be alive.” - -One of the men was a sergeant. He sported a big sand-colored mustache. -Beside him, sitting his horse a little stiffly, was a very young man -who reminded Tim of Private Greene. They both held rifles. - -The man with the pistol, who must be an officer, turned to the young -man. “Corporal, relieve the gentlemen of their arms.” - -As the corporal dismounted the officer looked sharply at the rifle and -the shotgun. Red said, “Both of us carry revolvers in the right-hand -pockets of our coats.” - -As the corporal took their arms the man with the pistol looked straight -at Tim. “Where did you get the rifle and shotgun and the pistols?” - -“We had a fight with some guerillas back in the mountains. Our guide -shot one and Lieutenant Kelly here shot another. The third was a poor -excuse for a man. We took his shotgun and let him go.” - -The officer questioned them closely about their capture and asked to -see their identifications. They showed him their papers and opened -their coats and showed him their tattered uniforms. When the officer -was satisfied that they were neither deserters nor spies he holstered -his pistol and motioned toward the man with the sandy mustache. “This -is Sergeant Scully, and the man who searched you is Corporal Simms. -I’m Captain Platt. I’m thankful we found you alive. My detachment is -quartered in the farmhouse of a loyal Unionist, just north of here. -The man has gone to war. We’ve been resting a while with his wife and -children. We start for Knoxville tomorrow. We’ll take you along.” - -Tim said, “We heard that Knoxville was under siege.” - -“The siege was raised in early December.” - -Red asked, “Where were you bound when we caught sight of you?” - -The captain laughed. “We were going out to find a tree.” - -“A tree?” - -The sergeant grinned. “Tomorrow is Christmas.” - -Red said, “Well, fancy that. Did you say there were children at the -farm?” - -“Three girls and two boys. Attractive little devils.” The captain -looked down at the feet of the men who stood in the snow. “You must be -perishing from cold. Sergeant Scully and I will take you back and set -you by the fire. Corporal Simms can find us a tree.” - -The corporal touched his cap. When he smiled he was even more like -Greene. “You can trust me, sir. The other boys would have my hide if I -came back with a scraggly tree.” - - - - -Post Script: - - -Captain Chamberlain, on whose story this book is based, was not as -fortunate as Lieutenants Bradford and Kelly. He was recaptured and -returned in chains to Richland Jail, where he was imprisoned until late -in 1864. - -There is a sequel to his story. - -Captain Chichester, the Confederate officer to whom Chamberlain -had surrendered his sword, survived the war and lived until 1900. -One of his last wishes was that Captain Chamberlain’s sword, which -Chichester had prized during his lifetime, be returned to its original -owner. Captain Chamberlain had died seven years before but the sword -was returned to his widow. It is still a proud possession of the -Chamberlain family. - -At the time of the return of the sword there were articles in the -Charleston and Hartford papers telling of the gallantry of both men, -their experiences in battle and the fate of the sword. - -By almost mystical coincidence, Captain Chichester’s father had been -born in Connecticut and his mother’s maiden name had been Chamberlain. -The two captains had been born in the same year, within two months of -each other. - - - - -_Acknowledgments_ - - -Mrs. Ruth C. North and Rodman W. Chamberlain, two of Captain -Chamberlain’s ten children, were especially helpful in gathering -material for this book. Most of the volumes listed in the bibliography -were found in the New York Public Library, and I owe a vote of thanks -to Mr. Gilbert A. Cam for putting the facilities of the Frederick Lewis -Allen Room at my disposal so that I would have a place to study and -work from these volumes. - -Thanks to my brother Duncan Burchard for information about small arms -of the Civil War period, and to my friend Victor Darnell for checking -my descriptions of Naval vessels. - -For their cordial help, thanks to Kate Swift and James Pickering of the -American Museum--Hayden Planetarium. - -A special vote of thanks goes to my friends in South Carolina: Jack -Snow of St. Helena Island and Howard Danner of the Beaufort Historical -Society, Robert Ochs, Chairman of the Department of History at the -University of South Carolina, Lester Inabinett of the South Caroliniana -Library and Virginia Rugheimer of the Charleston Library Society. - - - - -Bibliography: - - - Black, Robert C., _The Railroads of the Confederacy_. The University - of North Carolina Press, 1952. - - Carse, Robert, _Blockade_. Rinehart and Co., 1958. - - Cochran, Hamilton C., _Blockade Runners of the Confederacy_. Bobbs - Merrill, 1958. - - _The Columbia City Directory_, Columbia, South Carolina, 1860. - - Drake, J. Madison, _Fast and Loose in Dixie_. The Author’s Publishing - Company, 1880. - - Emilio, Luis F., _A Brave Black Regiment_, History of the 54th - Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. The Boston Book Company, 1891. - - _History of the Seventh Connecticut Volunteer Infantry_, compiled by - Stephen Walkley, 1905. - - Isham, Davidson and Furness, _Prisoners of War and Military Prisons_. - Lyman and Cushing, 1890. - - Knox, Dudley W., _A History of the United States Navy_. G. P. - Putnam’s Sons, 1948. - - Manucy, Albert, _Artillery Through the Ages_. U. S. Government - Printing office. - - Sabre, G. E., _Nineteen Months a Prisoner of War_. The American News - Company, 1865. - - Swanberg, W. A., _First Blood_. Charles Scribners Sons, 1957. - - Tourtellotte, Jerome, _Windham County Boys in the Seventh - Connecticut_, A History of Company K. 1910. - - Trumbull, H. Clay, _The Knightly Soldier_. John D. Wattles, 1892. - - -_Other_ - -In addition to the books listed on p. 187, use was made of the letters -of Captain V. B. Chamberlain, written during his imprisonment in -Richland Jail. Transcripts of these letters were lent me by Captain -Chamberlain’s son, Rodman W. Chamberlain. Microfilm copies of these -transcripts are now on file at the South Caroliniana Library in -Columbia, South Carolina. - -Rodman W. Chamberlain’s unpublished paper, entitled “The Return of the -Sword,” furnished the information used in the epilogue. - -The circumstances of Captain Chamberlain’s capture and escape have -been reconstructed as accurately as possible, but the character of -Lieutenant Timothy Bradford, Chamberlain’s counterpart, is entirely -fictional, as are most of the characters in this book. - -The Confederate Captain Chichester lived and fought at Fort Wagner. The -Union officers, General Strong and Colonel Rodman, lived and fought on -Morris Island. - -Captain Senn, Commandant of the Post Guard at Richland Jail, and -Corporal “Bull Head” Addison were real people. They have been -represented as they were described by men who were imprisoned in -Richland Jail in Columbia, S. C. The original Richland Jail no -longer stands, but the author has constructed it from descriptions -of prisoners and the drawings of Major Henry Ward Camp, Captain -Chamberlain’s companion in escape. Major Camp was killed in action in -1864. - -Many of the incidents in the story are taken from history. The ladies -of Charleston served coffee and food to Union prisoners, wanton -stabbings of Union prisoners are matters of record, and the young woman -in Columbia who lived across from Richland Jail and “whose heart -beat for the Union” really lived and waved her handkerchief when the -prisoners sang patriotic songs. - -The extent of Unionist sentiment in North Carolina and eastern -Tennessee has not been exaggerated and there were plenty of women like -“Missus” Flint. - -The descriptions of the map that Kate sent to Richland Jail were based -on a map she might have copied, one published in 1861 by J. H. Colton, -172 William St., New York. This map was also used in verifying the -spelling of the names of counties, towns, rivers etc. In most cases the -spelling of the period has been used. - - - - -_About the Author_ - - -Peter Burchard is a professional writer and illustrator. - -During World War II he served in the U. S. Army Signal Corps as a -radio operator on a troop transport in the North Atlantic. His first -published drawings appeared in YANK Magazine. - -He graduated from the Philadelphia Museum School of Art in 1947. - -His active interest in the Civil War began when his grandfather’s -diaries came into his hands. His grandfather, William Brokaw, joined -the 96th New York Regiment at the age of sixteen, served first as a -drummer boy, fought in sixteen engagements and was a Brevet Major when -he was mustered out in 1865. - -Mr. Burchard lives with his wife and three children in a converted barn -in Rockland County, N. Y. The war experiences of his wife’s grandfather -provided the basis for _North by Night_. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - - Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. - - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. - copyright on this publication was renewed. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH BY NIGHT *** - -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. 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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: North by night</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Peter Burchard</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 24, 2023 [eBook #69865]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH BY NIGHT ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> -<h1>NORTH BY NIGHT</h1> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt=""></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<table> - -<tr><td class="tdr"><img src="images/i_titlestar.jpg" alt=""></td> - -<td class="tdr"><span class="xxlarge">NORTH<br> -BY<br> -NIGHT</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2"><span class="xlarge">BY PETER BURCHARD</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td>  </td><td class="tdc"><img src="images/i_titleillo.jpg" alt=""></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">COWARD-McCANN, INC. <span class="gap"> NEW YORK</span></td></tr> -</table> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>Second Impression<br> -<br> -© 1962 by Coward-McCann, Inc.<br> -All rights reserved. This book, or parts therefor, may not<br> -be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from<br> -the publishers. Published simultaneously in the Dominion of<br> -Canada by Longmans Canada Limited, Toronto.<br> -Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 61-18609<br> -Manufactured in the United States of America</p> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"><i>To the memory of<br> -Captain V. B. Chamberlain<br> -Seventh Connecticut Volunteers</i></p> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<table> -<tr><td><i>Also by Peter Burchard</i>   </td><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td>JED: The Story of a Yankee<br> -Soldier and a Southern Boy.</td></tr> - -</table> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="large"><i>Author’s Note</i></span></p> - -<p>This story opens on St. Helena Island in July 1863. It -is fiction but the battle and prison experiences of Lieutenant -Timothy Bradford are based on those of Captain -V. B. Chamberlain of the Seventh Connecticut Volunteer -Infantry.</p> - -<p>The Seventh Connecticut was part of an expeditionary -force which was sent to South Carolina in October 1861 -to occupy the islands along the coast and establish a base -for military operations against the city of Charleston.</p> - -<p>Union troops occupied the town of Beaufort on Port -Royal Island and made their headquarters and their main -base of supplies on the Island of Hilton Head.</p> - -<p>The first charge on Fort Wagner (called Battery Wagner -by the Confederates) is described in this book. Wagner -was probably the strongest earthwork in the history of -modern warfare.</p> - -<p>A second charge on Wagner was mounted just one week -after the first. This second attack was repulsed. Wagner -was finally reduced by siege and occupied by Union troops -in September 1863.</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="ph3">NORTH BY NIGHT</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER ONE</h2> -</div> - -<p>A big Negro was cleaning fish at the end of a spindly -pier. He looked up as the two Yankee soldiers came -toward him. He watched steadily as they approached but -he showed no fear. The hot air shimmered as it rose from -the sandy soil and the marsh grass whispered in a light -breeze. The midday sun flashed on the water, making the -white men draw their eyes into thin horizontal slits.</p> - -<p>The taller soldier raised his hand in a casual greeting -and stopped before his boots touched the gray, weathered -boards of the pier. “Good catch?” he asked.</p> - -<p>The Negro stood up slowly and hunched his massive -shoulders and looked down at a half-cleaned fish. “Good -enough,” he said. Then he raised his head. “I hear talk -that most of you are leaving soon.”</p> - -<p>The shorter soldier pulled at his red beard. “Soldiers -are always on the move,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Why must you sail away from here? You buy our -vegetables and fish; you rent our boats. It’s good to have -you here.”</p> - -<p>The taller soldier smiled. “We have to fight.”</p> - -<p>The fisherman lowered his head again. “If you must<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -fight, you need a swim before you go.” He pointed down -the creek. “Take my boat and row across the inlet to the -beach.”</p> - -<p>The taller soldier reached into the pocket of his blouse, -but the big man put up his hand. “No money today. Jus’ -take the boat.”</p> - -<p>The soldier stepped onto the pier, as if to shake the -colored man’s hand. “Thank you,” he said. “My name is -Lieutenant Bradford and this is my friend Lieutenant -Kelly.”</p> - -<p>The fisherman didn’t take the hand, but his mouth -formed the hint of a smile. “Thank you,” he said. “My -name is Sam.”</p> - -<p>Red Kelly took the oars of the little boat and Tim -Bradford sat on the sagging seat in the stern as they moved -along the creek and into the inlet that separated St. Helena -from the complex of smaller outer islands. These islands -laced the coast of South Carolina from Georgetown to -Hilton Head. The Atlantic Ocean washed their beaches, -and their backs were honeycombed with deep creeks and -rivers where shallow-draft Confederate blockade runners -had once found it easy to move and hide.</p> - -<p>Shortly after the start of the War the first expedition to -these islands had been mapped by President Lincoln and -his military planners. There had been good reasons for -taking the War to South Carolina without delay. The -state had been the first to secede, the first to fire on the -flag, and there was need of a base of supplies for the ships -of the North.</p> - -<p>Now Federal forces held most of the outer islands from -Savannah to Charleston. A base of supplies had been set -up on Hilton Head, and the town of Beaufort on Port -Royal Island was occupied by Yankee troops.</p> - -<p>Sixty miles northeast was the proud port of Charleston,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> -heavily fortified, Fort Sumter at the mouth of its beautiful -harbor, the place where the War had begun. Fast Confederate -packets still ran into Charleston under cover of -night, taking supplies to the Southern forces, but the -Federal Navy had made it a dangerous game. Nowadays -most of the packets headed for Cape Fear, about a hundred -and thirty miles northeast of Charleston.</p> - -<p>As Tim’s thoughts went back over the past two years, -he was troubled by a familiar restlessness. He looked into -the fish-smelling bottom of the little boat and across the -inlet to the palmettos and scrub oaks that lined the shore -of the outer island, and he flexed his hands.</p> - -<p>Red Kelly, watching him with piercing blue eyes, read -his thoughts. “We move tomorrow,” he said. “Be patient. -God made this land and the sky above it. Live at peace this -lazy day.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think we can win this war?”</p> - -<p>“We have many more men under arms than the Rebs and -we’re backed by the might of our industry. But this is a -big, far-ranging war. The good Lord knows how long it -will last.”</p> - -<p>Tim pushed back his cap and ran his hand through his -stiff sandy hair. “The boys in the West are fighting a war -that moves. We’re fighting a sitting war.”</p> - -<p>“They’ve done their share of sitting in the West and -in Virginia. Before this week is finished you’ll have your -chance to fight again and a chance to die.”</p> - -<p>Tim smiled. “I have no wish to die.”</p> - -<p>Red’s face was flushed as he pulled at the oars. They -moved across the inlet and glided into a tidal pool. They -beached the boat, dragging it into the marsh grass. They -moved through the heavy undergrowth, shielded from the -sun by tall mop-headed palmetto trees. As they left the -shadow of the trees the sun flashed pain into their eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>The beach stretched away to the northeast, ending in a -point of land where palmetto trees hung over the sand on -great shelves, their roots stripped bare by stormy seas. -The ocean was flat and vast, and on the horizon the masts -of a sailing ship barely moved in a distant, ghostly mist. To -the southwest a big steam frigate moved slowly into Port -Royal Sound. When its ensign had disappeared behind the -trees they stripped off their clothes and splashed into the -water.</p> - -<p>Red had never learned to swim, so he stuck close to the -shallow places. Tim swam into deeper water and paddled -just out of his depth, letting the current take him along -the shore. Suddenly Red shouted, “Sharks!”</p> - -<p>Tim saw two putty-colored fins sliding obliquely toward -him. Terror struck at his chest and he wheeled and swam -for shore. As he reached shallow water he leapt and dashed, -the water dragging at his legs, pulling him back. At last his -ankles broke free.</p> - -<p>Red was white as plaster in the sun, his arms crooked -tensely. “Saints preserve us,” he said, “that was a close one, -indeed.”</p> - -<p>Tim stood on the sand, his chest heaving, and scanned -the water for signs of the sharks but the fins were gone.</p> - -<p>Red said, “They gave it up as soon as you started to -splash toward shore.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God for that. I swam as if my feet were made -of lead.”</p> - -<p>The men pulled on their pants and sat on the sand. -Red was quiet for a while and then he said, “I’m thinking -of Nancy and Tommy back in New Haven, waiting for -me to finish with the War. Tommy would be a little boy -now, not a baby any more. I’ve never even seen his picture. -I keep begging Nancy to send me a photograph of both of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -them, but I suppose she doesn’t have the money to have -one made.” He smiled. “You single men are a happy lot. -No family worries. Devil may care, that’s what you are.”</p> - -<p>Tim smiled. Then his face grew serious. “I have a girl,” -he said. “We have an understanding, but I haven’t spoken -to her father yet.”</p> - -<p>“A girl is it? Well, you’re a fox, Timmy boy. I’ve lived -and fought with you since we left the North and you’ve -never so much as mentioned a girl.”</p> - -<p>Red’s face took on a faraway look. “Nancy and I were -thinking of moving away from New Haven after the war. -Tell me, how is life in a country town?”</p> - -<p>Tim squinted his eyes. The distant sailing ship had -scarcely moved, but the mist had burned away. “The -town is clean,” he said. “The yards of the houses are neat, -and the village green is really green. The Connecticut -River flows wide and deep below the houses. My girl’s -name is Kate. She lives three miles down river. Her -eyes are blue and her hair is dark. She’s full of life. Sometimes -I worry that she’ll bust loose and go to New York -or Boston and marry some tall, dark handsome man.”</p> - -<p>“But she writes you still?”</p> - -<p>“Sure she writes, and she sounds as loving-hearted as -she ever did.”</p> - -<p>“Then put away your fears of tall, dark city men.” -Red smiled. “Tell me more about the town. What do the -men do for a living?”</p> - -<p>“My father is the only doctor in town. I guess I told -you that before. Then there’s the owner of the general -store and the parson and the blacksmith. Most of the other -men are farmers. It’s just like any country town.”</p> - -<p>Tim reached for a handful of sand and let it trickle -through his fingers. “My father worked so hard he never<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> -had time for me or the twins. That grieved him sorely, -I’m afraid.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the way with doctors.”</p> - -<p>The two men finished dressing and turned away from -the stretch of peaceful beach and the limitless ocean.</p> - -<p>They walked to the boat and dragged it through the -slime. Red stepped in and sat in the stern. Tim took the -oars.</p> - -<p>Not a breath of air was stirring the trees. One of Tim’s -oars smacked the water, and a white egret flapped suddenly -into the air from a saffron-colored tidal pool, flickering -white against the bluish Spanish moss that clung to the -trees along the shore.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER TWO</h2> -</div> - -<p>The moon came up above the cooking fires and shimmered -behind the heat that was still held by the sands of -St. Helena Island. Mosquitoes rose from the swamps and -pools and sluggish rivers to the west.</p> - -<p>The soldiers unstacked their rifles and cleaned them. -They packed their gear and settled down by the cooking -fires and boiled what might be their last hot meal for quite -a while.</p> - -<p>Tim and Red shared a tent with Captain Kautz and -Dawson but tonight they sat at the table alone. Tim had -set out a candle in a bright brass holder. A faint breeze -stirred the tent flaps, and the light flickered on the tin cups -and plates. Red’s beard glinted in the yellow light.</p> - -<p>Most of the boys had already struck their tents, but -Kautz liked to keep things set up until the very last so -he could spread out maps and do his work. He was short -and fierce and powerfully built. He would sit for hours -before the company went into action, his blouse open and -his head bent, studying the map. He would pull his beard -and fuss and fidget and suddenly get to his feet with his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -bristling chin thrust forward. “And that’s how it will go,” -he would say and then smile frostily to himself. “If the -Confederates will cooperate.”</p> - -<p>Tonight Kautz was having supper with the colonel. Tim -hadn’t seen Dawson since early morning. Everyone knew -the regiment was to sail at dawn, and the camp hummed -with talk of the fighting that lay ahead. The boys knew -they were moving against Charleston, and most of them -were eager to go.</p> - -<p>The candle guttered as the two men finished their meal. -Red cupped his hand around the flame and blew it out. -In a nearby tent they heard a clatter of plates, and a shout -went up. Tim leaned back so that he could see past the -tent flap. A man was running wildly around a cooking fire, -stripped to the waist. “It’s Corporal Steele,” Tim said. -“Every company has a clown.”</p> - -<p>Now Sergeant Fitch and some of the other boys joined -the fun. They whooped and hollered and jigged. The -firelight struck their bodies like a patchwork quilt. Tim -smiled to himself.</p> - -<p>A voice was suddenly raised above the din. A blond-haired -man of middle height came into the light, with -both fists clenched. “You men have work to do,” he -screamed. “Clean your rifles and assemble your gear. Tomorrow -we move up the coast.”</p> - -<p>Tim said, “Dawson’s drunk as a lord.” He stood up and -stepped outside the tent, moving toward the fire.</p> - -<p>Dawson looked up, his chin trembling. “Lieutenant,” -he said in a shaking voice, “are these your men?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Captain, they’re my men,” Tim said. “Their -rifles are clean and they’re ready to go. They were just -letting off a little steam.”</p> - -<p>“Are you being insolent with me?”</p> - -<p>Tim looked down at the captain’s sweat-streaked shirt.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> -He turned to Sergeant Fitch. “Sergeant,” he said, controlling -the anger in his voice, “you men look over your gear -and report back to me.”</p> - -<p>“Captain.” He turned. “Can I help you to a cup of -coffee?”</p> - -<p>Dawson put his hands on his hips and swayed a little, -focusing his watery eyes on Tim. “Mind your manners, -Lieutenant,” he said and turned and walked unsteadily -away.</p> - -<p>As soon as he’d gone Red staggered out of the tent. -He put his hands on his hips, swayed back and forth and -crossed his eyes. “Were you bein’ inshulent wi’ me?”</p> - -<p>Tim grinned, reached out a long arm and pushed Red -so hard that he staggered back and fell on the grass.</p> - -<p>It wasn’t long before Sergeant Fitch came back with -his boys. “Our rifles are clean and our gear is packed,” -he said.</p> - -<p>Tim stood up and kicked some sand into the fire. “Are -your buttons nice and shiny so the Rebs can see them in -the dark?”</p> - -<p>“Like diamonds, sir.”</p> - -<p>Corporal Steele was hanging back, but Tim could see -that he was smiling. “Why don’t you boys sit down for a -while?”</p> - -<p>Steele sat on an empty hardtack box and the others -sprawled on the grass. Sergeant Fitch cleared his throat. -“Lieutenant Kelly, I wonder would you sing us that Irish -lullaby?”</p> - -<p>“Now what would a strapping man like you be wanting -with a lullaby?”</p> - -<p>Red sang in his fine tenor voice.</p> - -<p>As other soldiers gathered around, Tim stood up and -left the group. He walked back to the tent. A warm breeze -blew in from the ocean. He reached for his poncho and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -spread it on the ground not far from the tent. He lay -on his back with his hands behind his head.</p> - -<p>Red’s voice came clear in the silence of the starlit night. -Tim thought of Kate. The last time he’d written her he’d -known in his heart he was writing the thoughts of a boy -who had left home two long years before. If only he and -Kate could meet and talk for a while.</p> - -<p>He remembered the first time he’d danced with her, the -light from the chandeliers striking the whirling figures -in the white-painted room of the new Town Hall. As he -drifted into sleep Tim thought about the dresses, pink -and salmon and powder blue against the men’s black -suits.</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>When reveille sounded Tim woke up and rolled over. -Red lay on the sand a few feet away, groaning as he opened -his eyes in the predawn light. “Last night when I curled -up here,” he said in a rasping whisper, “I thought you had -a good idea, sleeping on the ground.”</p> - -<p>Tim felt his poncho and his clothes. They were soaked -with dew.</p> - -<p>Captain Kautz was already up, sitting on a keg outside -the tent, straining his eyes to take in every detail of the -waking camp, already thinking about the day that lay -ahead. “We break camp now. The transport moves with -the morning tide.” He stood up. “I suppose we have to -set off a charge of powder by Dawson’s head to get him up.”</p> - -<p>Dawson came out of the tent and stared, silent and -hostile, at Kautz’s back. “Very funny, Captain,” he said, -putting his hand to his head.</p> - -<p>The four men ate their rations of salt pork and hardtack -and bitter coffee. The companies formed in columns to -march to the pier and board a ferry that would take -them across to Hilton Head.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>As they crossed Port Royal Sound the sky in the east -was touched by the light of dawn. A mist hung over the -sea. The ferry coasted into the landing and the soldiers -were silent, watching the shore or staring moodily at the -deck, showing none of the spirit of the night before. The -troops waited by the big, gray sheds, built when the islands -had first been occupied. The men talked quietly and some -of them realizing that there would be a wait, took off their -cartridge boxes and canteens and stacked their rifles.</p> - -<p>The pier crossed a narrow strip of beach and jutted -more than a hundred yards into the water. A narrow-gauge -railroad track ran out to the end of the pier where a T-shaped -float broadened the docking space. Two large -transports waited at the end of the pier, smoke trailing away -from their single funnels. Just ahead of them a smaller -vessel was being unloaded by half-a-dozen stevedores. Beyond -the pier were the masts and funnels of a score of -other ships, the farthest ones dim in the morning mist.</p> - -<p>Tim went forward to speak to Kautz. The captain -turned. “The colonel says dispense with roll call. No one -will want to desert us here.” He motioned toward the -waiting transports and gestured toward a column of men -that waited on the pier. “We board the ship on the left,” -he said. “Company K will occupy the forward deck. We -will occupy the stern.”</p> - -<p>Tim made his way back along the wall of one of the -sheds. He found Red no more cheerful than anyone else. -Tim said, “At least we’re heading north.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose there should be comfort in that.”</p> - -<p>Dawson stood close by. “North or south, it’s all the same -to me,” he said. “I want to see the last of these flea-ridden -islands. I’d like to be defending Beaufort. That’s the job -for me. The boys in Beaufort sit on verandas and rock all -day.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>Red smiled. “A veranda in New Haven would look good -to me.”</p> - -<p>The branches of a spindly oak showed above the roof of -the nearest shed. The place was colorless and barren in -the early morning light.</p> - -<p>Now the columns of soldiers began to move.</p> - -<p>A couple of Navy men dashed past on their way to their -ship, holding their little pie-shaped hats, their bell-bottomed -trousers flopping foolishly around their ankles. A -soldier raised a little cheer and the whole column took it -up. One of the sailors blushed and quickened his pace.</p> - -<p>Kautz and Dawson were waiting at the end of the pier. -They motioned the soldiers forward and directed them -to climb the gangplank.</p> - -<p>As the men reached the deck they passed a solemn old -sailor with a full white beard. He watched them closely -as one by one they stepped to the deck, nodding to each in -a silent gesture of mournfulness.</p> - -<p>The transport moved through the anchored fleet and -into the channel. She steamed east until she was well away -from shore. When she was two miles out she swung northeast, -and some of the soldiers sought shelter from the heat -on the deck below or in the shadows of the boats.</p> - -<p>Tim leaned against the rail with Red, watching the -distant shore. Close by, the air seemed clear and the sun -reflected on the water, but the distance was shrouded in -haze.</p> - -<p>Shortly after noon one of the lookouts gave a yell. A big, -black-bearded gunner shouted to his men, and they struggled -up from where they lounged with the soldiers on the -deck.</p> - -<p>Two thirty-pound cannon were mounted near the stern, -one on either side. The gunner leaned on the starboard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> -cannon and shielded his eyes, looking into the mist that -veiled the horizon.</p> - -<p>Tim strained his eyes, then clutched Red’s arm and -pointed across the crowded deck. “There she is!”</p> - -<p>A small, gray packet ghosted through the mist, about -two miles off their starboard bow. The transport swung -to port and the soldiers were ordered to stand clear. The -gun crew went to work. They sponged and rammed. The -gunner grabbed a big pinch bar and crouched and moved -the gun around its track. He adjusted the screw to suit -his judgment. When the gun seemed ready the gunner -sighted again along the barrel and gave another wrench -with the bar. Then he stepped aside and shouted, “Fire!”</p> - -<p>One of his gun crew jerked the lanyard, and the wooden -deck trembled as the cannon thundered and recoiled, -straining against the breeching tackle. The ball arched out -of sight, and Tim imagined that he saw a fleck of white -where it hit the water short of its mark.</p> - -<p>Before the gunner could fire a second shot the packet -had shown them her stern and was lost in the mist.</p> - -<p>Red squinted into the distance. “She must have been a -phantom surely. She could hardly expect to run into -Charleston in the afternoon. It must be risky enough at -night.”</p> - -<p>“She was probably due to arrive last night. She must -have been delayed somehow. She’s killing time until sundown.”</p> - -<p>The gunner heard Tim and nodded his head. “And now -we’ll be on the lookout for her.” He smiled. “But they’re -slippery devils, sure enough.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24-25]</span></p> - -<figure class="figcenter illowe177_4375" id="i_024"> -<img class="w100" src="images/i_024.jpg" alt="The South Carolina Coast from Hilton Head to Charleston, 1863"> -<figcaption class="caption"> - -<p class="caption"><span class="large">The South Carolina Coast from Hilton Head to Charleston, 1863</span></p></figcaption> -</figure> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>As the transport approached Folly Island, Captain Kautz -spread a map on the deck. It showed the coast from -Savannah to Charleston. Tim’s eyes traced their course -from Hilton Head past St. Helena, Edisto and Kiawa to -Folly Island, Lighthouse Inlet and Morris Island, which lay -at the entrance to Charleston Harbor.</p> - -<p>“We bivouac at the southwest end of Folly tonight,” -Kautz said, drawing a stubby finger across the map, “and -tomorrow at dusk we march the length of the island to the -shore of Lighthouse Inlet. We will launch our attack -in small boats. Morris Island is a sparsely covered place.”</p> - -<p>The captain had things figured one, two, three. He -straightened up with his hands on his hips and looked -toward Morris Island, as if he were going to take a bite -out of it with his even white teeth. “It shouldn’t be more -than one day’s work to clear the rifle pits and capture -the batteries along the shore. By Saturday night we’ll be -cleaning our rifles inside the fort.”</p> - -<p>Tim studied the map. Morris Island was shaped like -a big pork chop, the thin part curving north toward Fort -Sumter. At the end of the thin part, on Cummings Point, -stood Battery Gregg. Guarding this narrow neck of sand -from land assault, Fort Wagner stretched from the ocean -on the east to a tidal creek on the west.</p> - -<p>As he and Red turned away from the map Tim said -under his breath, “That fort is in a strong position. I -wish I shared the captain’s confidence.”</p> - -<p>Folly was a thin, sandy island stretching northeast like a -crooked finger. It was already garrisoned by Union forces.</p> - -<p>As the transport ran up Folly River the men could see -the tops of Yankee tents above the undergrowth.</p> - -<p>The troops disembarked at Pawnee Landing. They cut -through a little wood on a well-worn path and made their -bivouac in a barren place not far from the beach, close -to another Yankee camp.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>They built no fires that night. Tim and Red, Dawson -and Kautz sat together breaking out their rations, glad -for a chance to rest. Captain Dawson turned to Kautz. -“I wonder if the Rebels know what’s up?”</p> - -<p>“It won’t be long before they do.”</p> - -<p>Tim was impatient. “Why can’t we march tomorrow -morning?”</p> - -<p>“We can boil up our rations and clean our rifles,” Dawson -said. “We can make good use of the extra time.”</p> - -<p>Red laughed. “If the boys clean their rifles a couple -more times they’ll wear the bores down smooth.”</p> - -<p>Dawson didn’t feel like joking. “Sea air is death to -firearms,” he said.</p> - -<p>Kautz gave no sign of having heard. “We’ll have plenty -of support for our initial attack. We have a hidden battery -on the shore of Lighthouse Inlet. As soon as the enemy sees -our boats our mortars will open fire.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER THREE</h2> -</div> - -<p>Just before sundown of the following day a corporal -from General Strong’s brigade came around and handed -out squares of white cotton cloth. The men were to sew -them to the left sleeves of their blouses to prevent mistakes -if they should be attacked while they marched.</p> - -<p>At midnight came the sounds of quiet commands, the -tinkle of buckles and the creak of leather as the men -made ready for the march.</p> - -<p>Tim’s men grouped around. Sergeant Fitch and Steele -and the others leaned on their rifles.</p> - -<p>“We don’t expect trouble tonight but we have to go -quiet. General Strong’s brigade is on our left. We’ll travel -close to the beach, with the Sixth Connecticut just behind.”</p> - -<p>Tim found marching a pleasant relief from the heat and -boredom of the day. The moon rose and traced its path -across the sky. The breeze from the ocean riffled the marsh -grass and cooled the sand. They reached the inlet well -before dawn.</p> - -<p>Tim turned to Sergeant Fitch. “Fall out and be silent,” -he whispered. The boys sat around on the sand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>Captain Kautz moved along the line. “Ten minutes to -rest and then we embark,” he said. “We cross the inlet and -wait near shore for a signal from Colonel Rodman’s boat. -When we finally start for the beach, row fast.”</p> - -<p>In the ghostly light the silhouetted figures fussed with -the boats, setting the oarlocks and putting in the oars. The -boatloads departed one by one.</p> - -<p>The boats were made of rough milled pine primed over -with lead and oil. Tim cautioned his men to step with -care. “The bottom’s eggshell thin,” he said.</p> - -<p>The men rowed silently across the inlet. Tim sat at the -tiller in the stern.</p> - -<p>They waited in the shelter of the grass-covered dunes, -dipping their oars so that the boats wouldn’t drift. Aside -from the occasional plop of a clumsy oar, there was barely -a sound. Corporal Steele sat just across from Tim, rowing -and watching the rippling grass. “There must be Rebels -behind those dunes,” he whispered. “We’ll be sitting ducks -if they catch us here.” As he spoke the flat of his right oar -smacked the water.</p> - -<p>Tim whispered fiercely, “You’re doing your best to give -us away.”</p> - -<p>The oarsmen rocked and dozed, dipping an occasional -oar. Tim started to worry. Suppose they’d been seen by a -random picket as they’d crossed the inlet, and suppose the -picket had held his fire and reported the presence of -Yankee boats? If that had happened, every boat in the -inlet would be blown to bits in the first light of dawn.</p> - -<p>Tim combed the shore for signs of life, but there were -none. The lapping of the water against the boats and the -distant whisper of the sea were broken just once in that -early morning vigil when a lone gull rose with an urgent -flapping, circled and rested again.</p> - -<p>As the rising sun blazed fire across the sky, flooding the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -sea with an orange light, the silhouettes of the boats took -form and shape.</p> - -<p>The silence was shattered by the opening shot. An eight-inch -shell from the Federal battery arched overhead and -dropped into the Rebel camp. The Confederates shouted -and ran to their guns. The smoke from the discharged -gun twisted lazily in the morning air. Tim gripped the side -of his boat and watched through the haze for a sign from -the colonel.</p> - -<p>Now the water was churned by shot and shell. A near -miss doused Tim’s boat, and the boys went pale. “Why -the devil must we wait to move?” Tim said out loud.</p> - -<p>A trickle of water ran down his cheek and into his -mouth. He wanted to shout the command himself.</p> - -<p>The Yankee battery fired again. The shell burst just -behind a nearby sand hill. A mass of gulls rose against the -sun in a speckled cloud and flew, squawking, toward the -open sea.</p> - -<p>Now one of the boats was hit. The man in the stern -rose from his seat, swayed and toppled to the water in a -trail of blood. Another was wounded, and his screaming -echoed across the water above the sound of rifle fire and -the yells of the Rebels on the shore. There was a throbbing -in Tim’s head. He could feel his temper rise. Now -at last the signal was given, the oarsmen bent to their work -and the boats moved toward shore.</p> - -<p>Kautz’s boat was one of the first to scrape the sand. He -jumped out, ranging up and down the beach like a fighting -cock, urging the men to move in fast.</p> - -<p>Tim’s boat landed just behind Kautz’s, with other boats -following closely. He jumped over the side and into the -water and waded ashore in a hail of bullets.</p> - -<p>Kautz said, “Hit the beach and start firing.” He knelt -near Tim. “Half a minute to get your breath, then move<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -inland with your men and clear the rifle pits. If you -keep moving, the rest of the company will follow right -behind.”</p> - -<p>The other boats swarmed in to shore and the soldiers -started jumping out, holding their rifles high and dry.</p> - -<p>Sergeant Fitch and the other boys lay close to Tim, their -faces streaming and their chests heaving. Tim fingered -his pistol. “A couple more seconds, then we go.” He -raised his hand. “Three yards apart. Keep me in sight. -Move in low and give them a lively target.”</p> - -<p>He moved fast to the crest of the nearest dune. The first -line of rifle pits had been deserted. The enemy camp was -deserted too. It was strewn with boots, canteens and other -odds and ends. A cooking fire smoldered on the sand. Tim -and his boys moved past the tents. The Rebel garrison -must have been small.</p> - -<p>A cannon on the right was standing alone. Red and a -squad of his men moved in to swing it around. Tim ran -forward to the second dune and crouched to see what lay -beyond. There was a line of rifle pits a hundred yards or -so away. Men peered anxiously over the sides. Tim signaled -to his men. Rising up in full view of the pits, he gave -a yell and ran a zigzag course, with Sergeant Fitch and -Steele by his side. The other men yelled and followed -close on their heels. Neither Yankees nor Rebels stopped -to fire. The Rebels, outnumbered as they were, just -jumped the pits and scurried for the rear.</p> - -<p>One of the Rebels was very young. With youthful awkwardness -he was trying all at once to put on his shirt, hold -his blouse and rifle, and run for his life. As he ran his -shirt streamed out behind. He dropped his rifle and when -he stopped to pick it up he dropped his blouse. When -the boy’s face turned toward his pursuers Tim raised his -pistol as if to shoot. The boy deliberately picked up his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -blouse and his rifle and turned his back; he moved a few -steps closer to the shelter of a dune.</p> - -<p>Tim signaled for his men to hold their fire. He lowered -his pistol. They watched the lad as he cut loose and -sprinted like a rabbit for the safety of the dune, his shirt -still clinging to one of his arms and streaming out behind.</p> - -<p>Tim looked back. The Federal force was moving forward -in a solid line. He scrambled up a knob of sand. Beyond -him, over a waste of dunes, a Rebel battery was just -about to be deserted. Behind the cannon the ground was -dotted with soldiers in full retreat.</p> - -<p>The attackers paused to catch their breaths. Off to the -right Red had taken prisoners. He was giving orders to -three of his men who were acting as guards. He gestured -and pointed toward the rear, then turned his back on his -prisoners, looking over the ground ahead.</p> - -<p>Tim and his boys moved forward again, this time so fast -that they caught a gun crew off its guard. Tim dropped -behind a crescent-shaped drift of sand, and edging forward, -found himself staring straight into the muzzle of a cannon—a -parrot rifle not fifty yards beyond. Five of the gun crew -made themselves scarce, but two of the braver ones started -to empty their powder barrels. One of the men saw Tim -and grabbed for a rifle, but Tim brought up his pistol and -fired. The Rebel winced and grabbed his shoulder, dropping -to the sand as the other man scurried away.</p> - -<p>The fleeing man paused in the cover of a little valley -and brought up his rifle. Corporal Steele lay close to Tim, -his rifle cradled easily in his hands. He squeezed the trigger -and the man pitched forward and lay still on the sand. -Then one of Steele’s hands left his rifle. He reached into -a hollow in the sand and brought out a speckled sea-gull -egg. Steele slipped the egg into his cartridge box and both -men stood up and moved toward the gun.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>Tim spoke to the man he had shot. “You hurt bad?”</p> - -<p>Blood had soaked through the man’s gray blouse. There -were patience and sadness in his face. “The war is finished -for me now,” he said.</p> - -<p>Tim propped the man against the cannon and took up -the chase again.</p> - -<p>The sun traveled across the hard blue sky as the Yankees -moved along the shore, taking gun after gun and turning -them on men who had manned them minutes before.</p> - -<p>About midday Tim paused with his men to drink from -his canteen and eat some hardtack and a ration of pork.</p> - -<p>As the Yankees closed on Wagner there was token -resistance, but it was clear that the Rebels would make -their stand inside the fort. By late afternoon the attackers -had traversed the ridge and the last of the coastal guns -was theirs. Tim watched Kautz as Red and his men swung -a big seacoast howitzer around and discharged a shell that -burst above the heads of the retreating cannoneers.</p> - -<p>The advance was halted and Tim settled down for a -rest. Captain Kautz sat down close by. From where they -rested, part of the fort could be seen—a great sculptured -mound of earth and sand.</p> - -<p>Kautz pointed to a bastion close to the sea, then motioned -to the left. “The other salient is just out of sight behind -those little trees. We’re told the fort holds three hundred -men. The parapets are bristling with artillery.”</p> - -<p>As if to accent what he had said, a shell from the fort -arched high across the sky and exploded short of its mark. -The fire from the fort was fitful now. The enemy was -saving its fury for the Yankee assault.</p> - -<p>Kautz spoke again. “We’ll launch our attack at low tide. -Just now the tide is high. The strip of sand between the -tidal creek and the sea wouldn’t hold a company, much -less a regiment.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>Ships of the Federal Navy lay in a flat calm, just out -of range of the Confederate shore batteries. The masts of -the ships of the coastal blockade could be seen in the -distance.</p> - -<p>“Looks as if we’ll have Naval support,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>“We’ll need support. As we sit here we’re well within -range of the guns at Sumter and the batteries across the -channel on Sullivan’s Island.” Kautz gestured toward the -narrow neck of sand, the pathway to the fort. “That beach -will be a hell on earth when all the batteries open fire.”</p> - -<p>Sergeant Fitch came by. He smiled dryly and motioned -toward the fort. “That place is bulging with angry men.” -He put a hand on his hip. “But there’s one Rebel soldier -who comes to my mind who might not find the heart to -shoot at all.”</p> - -<p>Blue uniforms covered the sand as far as the eye could -see. Tim said, “If numbers counted, we could take the -place without a fight.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a pretty big ‘if,’ Lieutenant,” Fitch said. “Schoolboys -with slingshots could hold that fort.”</p> - -<p>“If we go in strong we’ll take the place,” Tim said. He -turned away.</p> - -<p>He found Red by a little stream on the westerly side of -the neck of land. Red was stripped to the waist, dousing -his hair and scrubbing his beard with a piece of soap.</p> - -<p>Tim took him by surprise. “That beard would frighten -the devil himself.”</p> - -<p>Red straightened up, grinning.</p> - -<p>A row of wounded lay on the sandy bank of the stream, -waiting to be taken to the rear. Tim noticed three gray -blouses at the end of the line. Two mounted officers rode -along the crest of the hill above the stream. A ferry service -must have been set up to bring the horses and wagons -across from Folly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>Red finished his washing and the two men moved up the -hill. To their left the tower of Charleston’s St. Michael’s -Church was a knife of fire in the light of the setting sun.</p> - -<p>When his boys had cleaned their rifles and settled for -the night Tim found a place close to the ocean, where he -could be alone. A waning moon climbed the dark blue -sky, and the phosphor-lighted waves that edged the mass of -the open sea lapped gently against the shore below. The -black outlines of the ships of the Navy—the monitors and -gunboats—were etched against the hazy distance. He -thought of a springtime more than two years ago when -he and Kate had sat on Lookout Rock high above the -river in the warmth and freshness of the sun, letting their -eyes wander over the morning haze, finding patches of pine -and green-gold willow trees. He remembered the sun -striking the river and the trailing smoke from a distant -train. When he had seen the train he had touched Kate’s -hand. “Do you ever feel you’d like to bust loose and -sprout wings and fly to the ends of the earth?”</p> - -<p>Kate’s eyes had shone. “You make me feel that way.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER FOUR</h2> -</div> - -<p>It was dark when Tim opened his eyes, and for a moment -he couldn’t remember where he was. Then a passing horseman, -giving orders, reminded him of their position. Tim -was conscious of the silent lines of men stretching away to -the rear, and he knew that sentries in the unseen fort -waited quietly in the darkness, straining their eyes toward -the Yankee pickets, wondering when the attack would -come. Fear came to him, then ebbed away. He knew that -the hours ahead must be lived a minute at a time. He got -to his feet.</p> - -<p>Muffled voices sounded on the left and Sergeant Fitch -came out of the gloom. “General Strong and Colonel -Rodman are up and about.”</p> - -<p>“Did you get some sleep?”</p> - -<p>“Not much. But most of the boys are dead to the world.”</p> - -<p>“Fitch, do you think the men are fit?”</p> - -<p>“Fit enough, I guess. But that new lad Greene, he -worries me. He’s so confounded young.”</p> - -<p>The colonel came along the line. “Turn the boys out.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -We have a job on hand. We must have silence as we move -to our picket line.”</p> - -<p>In the ghostly light the voices of the sergeants brought -the boys to life. Fitch’s voice came in a pleasant rumble. -“Here, Steele, time to get up. Up now, Bailey. Come -along, Campana. That’s it, Greene. Time to rise, lad, we -have a job to do.”</p> - -<p>And from farther away came other voices. “On your -feet, grab your rifles, put on your boots.”</p> - -<p>The colonel’s aide ordered quiet, and the sounds died -down to a restless hum as the men clasped their belts -around their waists, grabbed their cartridge boxes and -fixed their bayonets.</p> - -<p>Tim walked among his boys. Most of the faces were -chestnut brown from two years in the southern sun, but -one face stood out white as chalk. Tim stopped to talk to -Private Greene. As he faced the boy he thought, He’s -just as I probably was two years ago.</p> - -<p>“Just keep moving,” Tim said in a quiet voice. “It’s -dangerous to falter.”</p> - -<p>They moved forward, keeping their line as straight as -they could in the dark. Just as Tim fancied he could pick -out the shape of the fort against the sky a Yankee picket -stood in their path, raising his hand in silent greeting. The -order came to halt and rest.</p> - -<p>In the still, gray hours General Strong, with a yellow -bandanna fluttering at his neck, mounted on a big, stamping -horse, moved along the line. He paused near Sergeant -Fitch and looked down at the men. “Don’t stop to fire. -Trust in God and give them the bayonet.” Then he -spurred his horse, and the man and the massive haunches -of his charger and the beast’s switching, whipping tail were -swallowed by the gloom.</p> - -<p>Tim noticed that Private Greene stood close.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>“We move with caution till the enemy pickets open -fire,” Tim said. “Then we go in double quick. The -Maine and Pennsylvania boys will come in right behind.”</p> - -<p>The sand gave way with every step, and a lump of -impatience grew in Tim’s chest.</p> - -<p>As the soldiers advanced the ones on the right flank fell -back so that they wouldn’t be forced to walk in the ocean.</p> - -<p>A Rebel picket sent up an earsplitting yell, there was a -warning rifle shot, and the order came for the Yankees to -charge. As Wagner’s batteries opened fire the ground in -front of the advancing soldiers was churned by a stream of -shot and shell.</p> - -<p>Tim drew his sword and raced forward, motioning for -his men to follow. The ground was covered with dead and -dying, great shell holes loomed suddenly in their path, -and some of the men pitched headlong into the yawning -cavities.</p> - -<p>The figures of the charging men were punched in black -against the brilliance of enemy fire. As Tim moved into -the choking, blinding haze a shell hit close. The familiar -bulk of Sergeant Fitch spun around, suspended for a -moment, then crumpled in a gesture of death. Fear cut -into Tim like a knife of ice. His knees were numb but -he moved in a crescendo of speed for the outer work, a -soundless screaming tearing at his throat.</p> - -<p>A dozen or so men had halted just behind the man-made -ridge of sand.</p> - -<p>“Don’t stop to fire!” Tim yelled.</p> - -<p>In the light of the exploding shells he caught sight of -Captain Dawson just to the left. Dawson was rocking a -man in his arms, rocking and sobbing in a ghastly burlesque. -Tim scrambled over to Dawson’s side. The light -of a following shell showed him that the man Dawson was -holding was dead. Tim wrenched the dead man free,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -grasped the front of Dawson’s blouse and hit him full force -in the face with the flat of his hand. “Move on,” he -shouted.</p> - -<p>Dawson shook his head in confusion and got to his feet.</p> - -<p>With the shriek of shells splitting his ears Tim grasped -his sword and dashed across the trembling sand toward the -water of the moat where it reflected the flashes of cannon -fire.</p> - -<p>A wounded soldier lay at the water’s edge, struggling to -rise. Tim grabbed the man’s blouse and dragged him clear -so that he wouldn’t drown.</p> - -<p>As Tim straightened up he saw a half-familiar figure -dashing toward him.</p> - -<p>“It’s Private Greene,” he said aloud.</p> - -<p>Together he and Greene dashed into the moat. Tim -heard a splash. Greene lay in the water, face down. Tim -reached for the boy to pull him out but Greene jumped -up. “I’m alive. I only tripped,” he screamed. “Alive, -alive!”</p> - -<p>Tim choked down a desperate laugh as he rushed for -the massive, sloping bank of earth. Scrambling up the -rutted parapet, he felt something sharp prick the seat of -his pants. He swung around and looked into the dogged -face of Private Greene.</p> - -<p>“Private Greene,” he said. “Watch what you do with -that bayonet.”</p> - -<p>Daybreak was streaking the sky in the east. In the -gathering light a scattering of Yankees had dug in just -below the crest of the parapet, firing rapidly into the fort. -The ground below the fort was peppered with rifle and -cannon fire.</p> - -<p>It was clear to Tim that the Federal ranks were threadbare. -The supporting regiments had dropped to the -ground behind the outer work. A shell hit a portion of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> -the work, spraying sand into the air, picking up men like -jackstraws in a gale and sending them sprawling back to -earth.</p> - -<p>Tim whipped the air with his sword and shouted -through the smoke and noise, rallying his men. He slipped -and scrambled to the crest where the sandbags were -stacked. He kept moving as he reached the crest, half -sliding, half jumping into the fort. He was blinded for a -moment by a thick cloud of acrid smoke that made him -cough and choke. As the smoke blew away he saw a Rebel -sergeant straight in front of him and cannoneers at either -side. He lowered his sword.</p> - -<p>Off to the right a big voice commanded the sergeant, -“Hold your fire.” A Confederate lieutenant moved toward -Tim, his pistol ready, a broken-toothed smile cracking his -leathery face. “A prisoner, sir.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER FIVE</h2> -</div> - -<p>Tim sheathed his sword.</p> - -<p>“Your sword and pistol,” the lieutenant said.</p> - -<p>Tim unbuckled his belt, slid off his bolstered pistol and -held it toward the man. “I’ll surrender my sword to the -officer who commands this battery,” he said.</p> - -<p>The lieutenant nodded. “As you wish it, sir,” he said, -raising his voice above the rattle of musket fire and pointing -to a man who was stripped to the waist and covered -with grime and sweat. “There’s Captain Chichester. Surrender -your sword to him.”</p> - -<p>The Confederate captain turned as Tim walked toward -him. The Captain nodded respectfully. He reached for -his pistol and handed it to a boy not more than twelve -years old who stood by his side. “Guard this prisoner,” -he said, “and mind you don’t shoot him by mistake.”</p> - -<p>Tim walked with the boy to a place near a bombproof -shelter where empty powder barrels were thrown helter-skelter -on the sand. “I’ll sit on one of these,” he said to -the boy. “I’m tired.”</p> - -<p>The boy stood nearby, serious and manly, but frightened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -too. He pointed the revolver at the ground and looked at -it to be sure he knew how it worked. With his chin down -he looked back at Tim.</p> - -<p>Tim sat on the barrel, looking off through the smoke, -the racket of battle in his ears, the screaming of soldiers, -the thunder of cannon and the chatter of rifle fire. His -spirit was chilled. Fitch was dead. He wondered whether -Red and Kautz were lying lifeless in the moat, or were -they prisoners too? He thought of the Rebel soldier he -had wounded, was it yesterday? The man had said, “The -war is finished for me now.” And now, Tim thought, the -war is finished for me too.</p> - -<p>A huge siege gun was fired close by, shaking the earth -and sending a puff of acrid smoke rolling along the sandbags -at the top of the parapet, making the gunners cough -and choke. All at once the firing stopped, the last musket -cracked. The smoke of the battle rose above the fort and -thinned as it was blown away. The sun filtered through -the gloom and there were voices in the silence, loud at -first, then soft, like the voices of schoolboys when the -teacher comes into the room.</p> - -<p>Captain Chichester, his shirt draped loosely around his -shoulders, walked toward Tim through the thinning -smoke.</p> - -<p>Tim stood up, reached for his sword and handed it to -the captain. The man’s sand-colored hair and eyebrows -were dusted with powder that ran in streaks down his -tanned face. His blue eyes reflected a sleepless night and -a morning of battle. “No cause for Yankee shame today,” -he said.</p> - -<p>The powder monkey stood by his captain now, handing -him his pistol, looking up at his face.</p> - -<p>Tim looked toward the big guns. “Captain,” he said,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -“I wonder if I could see the field beyond the parapet?”</p> - -<p>The captain lowered his eyes. “It’s a heartbreaking -sight,” he said, and he raised his eyes and held Tim’s gaze, -as if he wished he could say more.</p> - -<p>The two men walked toward the parapet, the boy tagging -along behind. The Rebel soldiers gawked, and one -big sergeant spat hard on the blackened sand.</p> - -<p>“Save your spit for the next assault,” the captain said -with a look of towering disgust. As they reached the gun -he turned to Tim. “There’s an armistice in effect,” he -said, “to give your men a chance to carry off the wounded -and bury the dead. The boy and I will stay back here. I’ve -seen enough today.”</p> - -<p>Tim moved up beside a gun and looked across the plain. -The dusky, shadowy world of early morning had given -way to a sunlit day. There were no shellbursts or knifelike -tongues of flame—just silence and the litter of death, scattered -in terrible profusion on the sand.</p> - -<p>Under a flag of truce ambulances moved along the -beach, hurrying to gather up the wounded before they -were claimed by the incoming tide. A surgeon who was -working at the edge of the moat signaled to a driver. -“Here’s one alive,” he called. An ambulance creaked and -rattled to where the man lay. The surgeon and the driver -lifted the wounded man gently into the canvas-covered -vehicle.</p> - -<p>With sickening dread Tim’s eyes moved across the distance, -studying the men who lay on the sand. He fancied -he saw a red-haired officer lying in the distance with his -feet to the sun, but he couldn’t be sure. Men lay at the -base of the parapet, almost covered by the waters of the -moat which was fed by the ocean tides. Tim suddenly -wondered what had happened to Private Greene.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>He looked once more across the plain at the dead and -broken and dying. Then he turned to the captain and the -boy who stood by his side.</p> - -<p>“There are other prisoners waiting by the sally port,” -Chichester said. He looked down at the boy. “Billy Moore -will show you the way.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you for your courtesy, sir.”</p> - -<p>“What is your name?”</p> - -<p>“Lieutenant Bradford, Seventh Connecticut Volunteers.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe we’ll meet again on a happier day,” the captain -said. He turned and walked away with two swords swinging -and rattling at his side.</p> - -<p>As Tim followed the boy past the bombproof the boy -spoke. “All Yankees aren’t bad,” he grinned, “but most -are devils, sure enough.”</p> - -<p>“You come from Charleston, lad?”</p> - -<p>“I come from Beaufort, sir,” he said with a sudden -frown. “It was the Yankees chased us away.”</p> - -<p>They left the shadow of the bombproof and walked -through the sally port, and there, guarded by half-a-dozen -men, were forty or fifty Yankee captives. There was Dawson, -hatless, with his corn-colored hair shining in the sun, -his face like death. An ugly welt ran across his cheek.</p> - -<p>One guard laughed when he saw the unarmed boy with -the tall Yankee. “Big fish this time, little Billy,” he rasped. -“Give him over to me.”</p> - -<p>Tim nodded to the boy and went to Dawson. “Glad to -see you still alive,” he said.</p> - -<p>Dawson looked sullenly at Tim. “I’m tired,” he said -with bitterness. “I’m glad to be out of it, if you want to -know the truth.”</p> - -<p>“Any word of Kelly or Captain Kautz?”</p> - -<p>“None that I know of.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>A big Rebel sergeant moved close to them with studied -ease and snapped, “That’s enough talking. You’ll have -plenty of time to talk in jail.”</p> - -<p>Tim thought, If Red is dead I’ll visit his wife and child -when I get home. But I pray to God he lives.</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>Off to the east thunderheads were piling up, and a stiff -breeze sprang up.</p> - -<p>A rusty steamer came puffing and wallowing across the -choppy waters and made fast to the pier just to the west of -the Confederate battery at Cummings Point.</p> - -<p>As the prisoners clattered along the pier Tim wondered -if the flimsy structure would hold them all. It creaked -and groaned as one by one the men jumped to the heaving -deck.</p> - -<p>As Tim stood by the rail he caught sight of a familiar -face. “Private Greene,” he said.</p> - -<p>Greene turned a happy face and worked his way behind -the crowd of men along the rail. Tim clasped the boy’s -hand. “Glad to see you, lad.”</p> - -<p>Greene just smiled.</p> - -<p>“Have you seen Lieutenant Kelly or Captain Kautz?”</p> - -<p>“No, Lieutenant.”</p> - -<p>As the steamer moved away from the shelter of land it -was lifted by swells that swept in from the open sea. The -little ship rolled and tossed and smacked the waves, sending -up sheets of spray and wetting the men who were -wedged along the rails. It seemed to Tim she was carrying -too many men.</p> - -<p>“If we make it to Charleston I’ll be surprised.”</p> - -<p>Greene smiled shyly. “Let’s mutiny,” he said, “and sail -to Boston on the afternoon tide.”</p> - -<p>Suddenly there was a commotion near them at the rail -and one of the prisoners jumped over the side. Tim saw<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -the flash of a shirt then he saw a boy swimming and drifting -swiftly astern. He said, “What chance does he think he -has?”</p> - -<p>A guard dashed out of the wheelhouse onto the shuddering -deck. He raised his rifle and fired. Greene gritted his -teeth and clenched his fists in a helpless fury as he watched -the head of the struggling boy. “For the love of mercy, -why don’t they give him a chance?”</p> - -<p>Two shots followed the first, but the boy’s head still -bobbed above the water. The fourth shot hit its mark. -One of the swimmer’s hands thrashed weakly for a moment -and he dipped below the surface, leaving a slick of blood -to mark the place where he had disappeared.</p> - -<p>Greene’s face was pale. He quivered with rage and fear. -He stared transfixed and then, with a convulsive shudder, -leaned over the rail and was sick. Tim put his hand on -the boy’s shoulder and looked across the water at the -stretch of beach that led to the mouth of the creek and the -freedom of the Yankee lines.</p> - -<p>The steamer made straight for Sumter. The fort stood -like a block of granite in the harbor’s mouth, the sea dashing -against the outer walls.</p> - -<p>Now the sky was solid lead, washed across with moving -clouds. The steamer nudged Fort Sumter’s wharf. The -sailors looped the hawsers around the pilings, the sergeant -of the guard leaped to the dock and was admitted to the -fort. The steamer creaked and groaned against the pilings -and Tim leaned on the rail with Greene beside him, looking -up at the silent gray walls.</p> - -<p>The sergeant walked back along the pier with his head -down and his arms swinging at his sides.</p> - -<p>As the steamer moved toward Charleston, leaving the -silent gun ports in its wake, Tim noticed a flag at the top -of the pole inside the fort. It snapped in the stiffening<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -breeze, its colors sharp against the flat, gray sky. I wonder, -he thought, how long that flag will fly?</p> - -<p>The harbor was dotted with the sails of fishing boats -seeking shelter from the coming storm. The city of Charleston -was strung across the horizon, her rose-brick and white-walled -buildings like spots of color in a child’s painting, -her church towers standing high above the piers and parks -and the houses that lined the waterfront. Off to the right, -masts and spars and a complex of shrouds marked the -wharves on the eastern shore of the peninsula.</p> - -<p>Greene’s voice barely rose above the thump of the paddle -wheels. “Where are they taking us, do you suppose?”</p> - -<p>“There’s a jail in Charleston,” Tim said, “and others -scattered throughout the South.”</p> - -<p>“Are the stories of Rebel prisons true?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve never been in a Rebel jail,” Tim said. “There’s -always hope of being exchanged. The Confederacy can’t -afford to have her soldiers wasting away in Northern -prisons.”</p> - -<p>Tim watched Greene’s face. “Promise me something, -will you, Greene?”</p> - -<p>“What would that be, Lieutenant?”</p> - -<p>“Promise me if you try to escape you’ll pick a time when -you have a fair chance.”</p> - -<p>Greene spoke earnestly. “I wasn’t thinking of escape -just yet. I’ll have to see the prison first. I’ll have to think -on it a while.”</p> - -<p>Tim laughed. “I’ll waste no more of my worry on you.”</p> - -<p>The little steamer swung slowly around as it maneuvered -to move toward one of Charleston’s piers. Now in the -moment before the storm Tim saw a little island at the -mouth of the river. Part of the island was struck by sunlight. -On the sandy shore three men struggled to beach a -boat, their figures distinct in the slice of light.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>There was a sudden gust of wind and the rain sluiced -down, blotting out the little scene. It streaked down the -faces of the prisoners and ran down their collars. At first -it seemed a blessed thing, but as it drenched the men on -the deck Tim stared across the flat, gray water whipped by -rain, and a cold apprehension took root in his heart.</p> - -<p>As the little steamer docked the rain stopped and the -clouds blew away. The prisoners marched with their -guards along the wharf, across a glistening cobbled street -to a shedlike building that faced the waterfront. A short, -sunny-faced woman came out and spoke to the sergeant of -the guard. “We didn’t have much warning,” she said. -“You’ll have to give us a minute or two.”</p> - -<p>The sergeant frowned and mumbled something. Then -the woman raised her chin and looked down the line of -men, wet and disconsolate in their dirty uniforms. “Well, -you’ll have to wait,” she said. Without pausing for an -answer she went inside.</p> - -<p>Tim stood on the cobbles and studied the row of fine -brick houses that faced the river. This was the first time -in months that he had stood on a street and looked at -houses where people dined and slept, where children were -born and raised.</p> - -<p>The sunny-faced woman came out again, followed by -others carrying trays of coffee and slices of buttered bread -on squares of white paper. As the women moved among -the men Greene straightened up and lowered his chin and -brushed his cheek with the back of his hand.</p> - -<p>“They’re just like the ladies of Philadelphia,” Tim said, -“who served us goodies two years ago.”</p> - -<p>One of the women, dark haired and young, turned to -him. “Need is need, wherever it may be,” she said with a -sweet, sad smile.</p> - -<p>Tim noticed how graceful she was in her starched white<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> -dress and pale blue shawl. She was so much like Kate that -he felt his knees go weak. As she turned away he was filled -with a yearning for home, a longing to sit on his horse and -ride along the river road underneath the sunlit leaves until -Kate’s house came into view.</p> - -<p>When the women had disappeared into the building -again the Rebel sergeant slapped the stock of his rifle. -“Quiet,” he said. “Now we march to the railroad depot.”</p> - -<p>They marched through the streets and alleys lined by -houses, sometimes neat and tidy, sometimes deserted and -forlorn. There were gardens filled with summer flowers -still in bloom, palmetto trees along the sidewalk, dark -green painted doors with knobs and knockers of polished -brass. People leaned on their windowsills to watch the -passing prisoners. Some of them hissed or spat. Others -watched with expressions of compassion or concern. A -scattering of ragged children ran ahead of the prisoners, -spreading the word that they were on the way. They -rounded a corner and walked along a wide cobbled street -where most of the houses were of the “single style,” narrow -at the front, with piazzas facing lawns and gardens at the -sides.</p> - -<p>People were gathering on the sidewalks, and as the prisoners -approached St. Michael’s church the crowd grew -thick, surged from under the portico and broke into catcalls -and jeers. The soldiers of the Rebel guard flashed -their bayonets and drove the people back. Most of the -prisoners walked straight and proud. Tim set his jaw and -stiffened his back but he couldn’t stop the trembling in his -knees.</p> - -<p>A gang of little boys dodged around the pillars of the -church and one of them skittered through the crowd, made -a face and flapped his hands like donkey ears. He reached -into his pocket and brought out a tomato. Tim saw the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -boy’s arm arch back as he took deliberate aim. The love -apple caught the Rebel sergeant just over his ear. The -sergeant moved to catch the boy.</p> - -<p>“I was aiming at a Yank,” the little fellow screamed as -he dashed behind the skirts and capes that lined the street.</p> - -<p>People in the crowd began to laugh, the women first, -and then the men. The sergeant’s face turned red, and -even Yankee snickers turned to laughs. Then there was -silence. The laughter of the Yanks had made the joke -go sour.</p> - -<p>As they moved along the middle of the street, carriages -and wagons pulled aside to let them pass. The drivers -turned hostile faces on the men in blue.</p> - -<p>Tim brushed past the bright red wheels of a gleaming -carriage and for a moment he looked into the face of a -woman in the back seat. She was about his mother’s age -and dressed in black. Her face was beautiful and filled -with sadness.</p> - -<p>Now the urchins who followed the prisoners were joined -by others led by a dark-haired older boy. They screamed -and taunted. They threw pebbles as they surged along the -sidewalks and into the street ahead of the prisoners’ line -of march. The sergeant of the guard was flushed with -anger. When the leader of the gang began to taunt the -prisoners the sergeant grasped the boy’s collar, tearing the -shirt right off his back. “Next time I’ll give you the bayonet,” -the sergeant said.</p> - -<p>The boy grabbed his shredded shirt from the dirty -stones and ran ahead with his gang behind him to the -shelter of a narrow street. The sergeant and the other -guards watched as they passed the street. All at once the -boys appeared again and pelted the column with stones. -A mean-faced Rebel corporal was hit in the leg, and he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -and the sergeant, with another guard, dashed after the boys -as they scattered like quicksilver into the alleys and doorways -of the dingy street.</p> - -<p>Greene’s face showed his excitement as the column was -left with just one guard. Tim grabbed Greene’s arm. -“This is no time to think of escape. Charleston is a cul-de-sac. -They could seal off this peninsula easier than closing -a cracker box.”</p> - -<p>Greene relaxed. “Never even crossed my mind,” he said -with a smile.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER SIX</h2> -</div> - -<p>The prisoners were shouted to a halt beside a two-story -depot with a turreted top and moss-covered walls. An old -man poked his head out of one of the upper windows and -glared at the sergeant through steel-rimmed spectacles. -“Sit them down,” he squawked. “The train won’t be here -for quite a spell. Just got it over the telegraph.”</p> - -<p>“Where’s the Home Guard, granddaddy? We want to -get back to the barracks for dinner.”</p> - -<p>“They’re with the train,” the old man said and shut the -window.</p> - -<p>In front of the building three Negro women had set up -shop. They sat on the steps, their bright cotton dresses, -straw hats and shawls gleaming in the sun, oranges and -yams and figs and shrimp in baskets and wooden bowls -ranged around their feet. “Gentlemen, buy here!” one of -them called. “Fruits and vegetables, molasses cakes. We -still have tobacco and a few cigars.”</p> - -<p>The Rebel sergeant loosened his collar and slung his -rifle over his shoulder. “Buy if you have money,” he said -to the prisoners, “but stay on the platform. We’ll shoot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> -the first man who wanders. We’ve had enough running for -today.”</p> - -<p>The sergeant walked past the colored women, up the -steps and through the depot door.</p> - -<p>Greene looked at the food. “I could eat it all,” he -gulped.</p> - -<p>“We’d better buy what we can and save what we can,” -Tim said. “We may have to make it last a while.”</p> - -<p>The prisoners clustered around the women. Tim noticed -Dawson eating and stuffing his pockets with food. -The woman in the center was big and fat. She was -wreathed in smiles. “We give you good exchange,” she -said, “five Confederate dollars to one greenback for Yankee -gentlemen.”</p> - -<p>Tim bought some yams and molasses cakes, and Greene -cradled five big oranges in the crook of his arm.</p> - -<p>The mean-faced Confederate corporal yelled, “Fall in at -the center of the platform where I can keep my eyes on -you.”</p> - -<p>The prisoners drifted away from the bright little island -of smiling, brown-skinned women and did as they were -told.</p> - -<p>Greene fumbled for his money and paid for his oranges. -As he slipped his wallet into his pocket one of the oranges -fell to the platform and rolled toward the track. He chased -the orange, clutching the others against his blouse. Tim -had pocketed his food and he started toward the orange as -it rolled to the edge of the platform. The Confederate -corporal watched the orange with cold indifference as it -bumped onto the track. Greene scrambled after it. Suddenly -the corporal swung his rifle around and caught -Greene in the side with the point of his bayonet.</p> - -<p>The wounded boy cried out in pain, the other oranges<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -dropped from his grasp and bumped and rolled onto the -roadbed, bright spots against the stones.</p> - -<p>Greene crumpled to the ground, holding his side, gasping -and sucking for breath.</p> - -<p>Tim’s eyes blazed fury. “Why, you damned fool,” he -said. He turned his back to the corporal and knelt beside -Greene.</p> - -<p>The sergeant appeared from the shadow of the doorway. -“Corporal,” he rasped, “we’ve had enough trouble today -without you doing a thing like that.”</p> - -<p>The color drained from the corporal’s face. “Just doing -what you told us,” he choked, “getting the Yankees back -in line.”</p> - -<p>The fat woman dropped to her knees and wailed, “Lord -have mercy on us all. That boy didn’t mean no harm.”</p> - -<p>The sergeant turned on the woman. “Shut your face. -You better do your selling some place else.”</p> - -<p>Tim loosened the boy’s clothing, exposing the white -flesh and the ugly mouth-shaped wound.</p> - -<p>The sergeant squatted. “That’s nothing to worry -about.” He reached into his haversack. “We’ll bandage -it and they’ll dress it proper when you get to your jail.”</p> - -<p>“Where are we going, Sergeant?” Tim asked.</p> - -<p>“I’m not supposed to say.”</p> - -<p>“How long a ride is it?” Tim asked evenly.</p> - -<p>“Three or four hours I guess.”</p> - -<p>Tim stood up slowly. “This man needs a doctor now.”</p> - -<p>“My commanding officer would give me the devil if he -knew about this.”</p> - -<p>Tim clenched his fists. “Greene needs care. He needs -it now.”</p> - -<p>The sergeant wavered. “The train ...” he said.</p> - -<p>“The train be damned, Sergeant. Stabbing this boy was -an act of cruelty. If you send him to a prison in the shape<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> -he’s in, I’ll find a way to let your commanding general -know.”</p> - -<p>Greene was breathing heavily. He had lost a lot of -blood. It had soaked his trousers and formed a little pool -on the ground. “Don’t bother, Lieutenant,” he whispered. -“I can make the trip.”</p> - -<p>Tim looked coldly into the Sergeant’s eyes. “Well, -Sergeant?”</p> - -<p>The sergeant turned to the corporal. “Leave your rifle -with me,” he said. “Bring a baggage wagon around from -the back. You can drive the Yankee to the hospital. If he -dies, it’s on your head.”</p> - -<p>“But ...” the Rebel corporal whined.</p> - -<p>“But nothing. I’ve had enough of you.”</p> - -<p>Greene looked up at Tim. “I’d rather stay with you, -Lieutenant.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t do that. You’ll be better off in a hospital. If -your wound had been higher, you might have been killed, -but it’s just in the flesh of the hip. If it’s properly dressed, -you’ll be well in a week or two.”</p> - -<p>The colored women were gathering up their bowls and -baskets and getting ready to move away. The prisoners -watched in silent anger as the corporal brought the wagon -around and reined the horse to a stop.</p> - -<p>Tim and the sergeant lifted Greene gently to the wagon -floor, and Tim touched the boy’s sleeve. “You’re a brave -lad, Greene,” he said quietly. Greene smiled and turned -his face away.</p> - -<p>As the wagon squeaked and rattled off, the sergeant -turned to Tim. “Gather up the boy’s oranges, if you’re a -mind to,” he said.</p> - -<p>Tim stepped off the platform and leaned down to pick -up the oranges. The other prisoners sat along the wall of -the building. Tim stuffed the oranges into the bulging<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -pockets of his blouse and settled himself on the heavy, -splintering planks of the baggage platform. He watched -the wagon disappear into the dusty distance and then -stared down at the backs of his hands, tanned and moist -and heavily veined.</p> - -<p>He thought of Greene and his other men. With a flash -of fear he thought of Red. He studied the row of prisoners, -looking for a familiar face, and there—turning toward him -as if at a signal—was Dawson’s. The eyes of the two men -met and Dawson turned away.</p> - -<p>Tim looked along the length of track. The ribbons of -steel reflected the blinding sun as they converged in the -shimmering distance. He nodded sleepily but his ear -caught a sound. A column of men moved along the street, -thinly veiled by a cloud of dust. As they came closer Tim -could see that their clothes were in tatters and they were -pitifully thin. Some of them wore slouch hats and some -of them straws. On poles that rested on their shoulders -they carried their belongings: rusty pots and pans and bits -of clothing, a three-legged chair and a couple of homemade -tables. When the column halted Tim looked closely. He -was shocked to see that two of the scarecrows wore dark -blue forage caps and that a barefooted man had a tattered -Federal blouse tucked into his belt at the back. They must -be Yankee soldiers captured many months ago.</p> - -<p>Their faces were sunken and vacant. They put down -their rattling, tinkling poles and settled against the wall -near the far corner of the building.</p> - -<p>Tim felt a little sick. He turned his eyes away and rested -his head in the flats of his hands and went to sleep.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER SEVEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>The shriek of a whistle brought Tim to his senses. He -was steeped in sweat and he shook his head and blinked at -the train as it backed slowly toward him, its bell clanging, -its wheels singing and screeching.</p> - -<p>Six freight cars and a caboose made up the train. Up -forward the stack of the engine stood high above the cars, -belching smoke and sparks. Along the tops of the cars the -ragged men and boys of the Home Guard stood with their -muskets held loosely in their hands. On the platform at -the back of the caboose stood a grisled old man with a -pistol thrust into his belt. Beside him was a man, apparently -young, in a soiled Confederate uniform, a slouch hat -shading his face. As the train stopped, Tim could see that -the young Confederate’s face was nothing but an expressionless -scar.</p> - -<p>It wasn’t long before another column of men came into -sight. They were all in Yankee uniform, and as they -marched out of the shadow Tim’s heart skipped a beat. At -the head of the column, hatless and with his blouse thrown -open, marched Red. There was life in his stride. His hair<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -blazed in the sun and he held his bearded chin at a jaunty -angle. Alongside Red walked Kautz with a snappy military -air.</p> - -<p>Tim could feel the thumping of his heart. He got to his -feet, dizzy with sleep and fatigue. He jumped off the platform -and waved to Red. Red broke ranks as the column -halted. “Timmy,” he said, “I knew you were alive but I -didn’t know when we’d meet again.”</p> - -<p>Captain Kautz smiled and held out his hand. “Good to -see you, Lieutenant,” he said.</p> - -<p>The platform was crowded with prisoners. The guards -began to shout, “Form ranks, get back in line” but the -men just stood and talked.</p> - -<p>A shout like the bellow of a bull broke through the talk. -There was sudden quiet, and with a broken-toothed smile -showing through his snow-white beard the old man on the -back platform of the caboose said, “Bluebellies, you’re in -my charge now.” He took off his gray slouch hat and -bowed his white head in mock respect. “When a prisoner -steps out of line my men will shoot to kill. My sergeant -here will stand by one car at a time and count thirty men -into each. Now get to your feet.”</p> - -<p>The old man jumped to the platform and strode down -the line until he saw the derelict prisoners with their pots -and pans and furniture. Some of them were leaning -against the wall and others were lying on the platform in -the sun. He bellowed again and the derelicts stared like -sick rats at a ravening dog. Slowly they got to their feet. -“Proud Yankee bucks,” the old man sneered.</p> - -<p>The emaciated prisoners reached for the poles that held -their belongings.</p> - -<p>“What the hell is this?” the old man screamed, frightening -one of his charges so that he dropped the end of a pole,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -letting his belongings clatter to the stones. “You can’t take -your junk on the train.”</p> - -<p>The men stood silent and timid in the sun. In a treacly -voice that could barely be heard the old man said, “Just -leave your stuff here and bring up the rear.”</p> - -<p>“Filthy, bullying pig,” Tim said between his teeth.</p> - -<p>Then his anger waned and he turned to Red. “I thought -I’d never see you alive again.”</p> - -<p>Red kept his voice low as the old man passed close to -them. “A Confederate captain told us you were still alive.”</p> - -<p>Red moved closer to Tim. “Captain Kautz has a plan of -escape,” he whispered. “It was just to be the two of us. -I imagine you’ll want to be coming too.”</p> - -<p>Tim raised his brows. “That’s why you marched in here -happy as a raw recruit.”</p> - -<p>The old man stood on the platform, his pistol in his -hand. “No talking in the ranks,” he ordered. “Move forward -and be counted in.”</p> - -<p>“Stick together from now on,” said Kautz in a tight-lipped -whisper. He looked sharply at Tim. “We jump -from the train. I give the sign.”</p> - -<p>They were the last to be counted into the car ahead of -the caboose. As they approached the door Tim held his -breath as the scar-faced sergeant counted, “Twenty-six, -twenty-seven....” And Red was twenty-eight.</p> - -<p>The guards kept their places on the tops of the cars. All -the doors on the opposite side of the train were shut and -probably locked.</p> - -<p>As the prisoners climbed into the car the smell of cow -dung and urine struck them full in the face. The last ones -in sat near the open door.</p> - -<p>Tim’s head ached and he was stiff in every joint, but as -he leaned against the boards of the cattle car with Kautz<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -on his right and Red on his left he smiled to himself. -Friends, that’s what a man needs, he thought. It’s going it -alone that makes it tough.</p> - -<p>Kautz turned to Tim. “I’ve studied maps,” he whispered, -slapping a slight bulge in the lower part of his -blouse. “I thought about capture before we attacked the -fort.”</p> - -<p>Tim glanced at Kautz and for a moment he couldn’t -believe his ears. Kautz had never shown the slightest doubt -that they would take the fort.</p> - -<p>“On this train,” he heard Kautz say, “we will probably -head for Columbia. If so, we jump south of the city. We -might branch west toward central Georgia. If we do that, -I’m for jumping as soon as we see our chance. In either -case, our objective would be Eastern Tennessee. If we -should head south along the coast, we jump near Beaufort.”</p> - -<p>Kautz looked around the car and leaned close to Tim. -“The giving of the signal will depend on the position of -the guards, the degree of darkness and other things.” His -whisper became a hiss. “We will be taking great risks, in -any case. I will go first, then Kelly, then you.”</p> - -<p>The sergeant looked into the car. His skin was mottled -purple and pink and white, scarred so badly that his face -could express no emotion. When he talked the glistening -skin crinkled dryly around his mouth. His voice came soft -and deep. “We have to put three more men in here,” he -said with something that sounded like regret, “but I’ll keep -the door open if you behave yourselves. In this country,” -he said, “escape is foolish. Don’t forget that.” He clamped -his jaw shut and moved along to inspect the other cars.</p> - -<p>Three of the derelicts crawled into the car and collapsed -like half-empty sacks of meal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>While Kautz had been talking Red had sagged and -fallen asleep. “I’ve had a little sleep,” Tim said to Kautz, -“you sleep now and I’ll stand watch for an hour or so.”</p> - -<p>“Fine,” Kautz said. He rested his beard on his chest and -went to sleep.</p> - -<p>Tim smiled to himself. He even sleeps efficiently, he -thought. As he smiled his eye was caught by the gaze of -one of the derelicts. The man stared into Tim’s face with -vacant, luminous eyes. Tim took three of Greene’s oranges -out of the pocket of his blouse and held them toward the -man. “You’re hungry,” he said. “One of these for each -of you might help.”</p> - -<p>The man’s emaciated hands shot out, grasped two of the -oranges and clutched them to his body. He reached for the -other with something in his pitiful face that made Tim -draw the third orange back. “One to each,” he said.</p> - -<p>The man’s lower lip quivered. He grasped the oranges -and turned his back and started to claw at one of them. -Another derelict saw his chance, plucked the other orange -from the man and tore at the skin with his teeth. He -sucked and bit as the juice ran down his tattered shirt.</p> - -<p>The train whistle gave a sudden, piercing shriek and -the cars bumped together with violent jerks. The third -Yankee derelict, a boy still in his teens, opened his eyes. -Tim leaned over and handed him the third orange. He -took it silently, turned it around and around as if it were -a ball of gold—as if spending the wealth would take some -thought. He put up his knees to make a shield, and with -his thumb and forefinger gently peeled off the first strip -of skin ... and the second ... and the third. When the -orange was peeled he quartered it and ate deliberately, -gasps of pleasure punctuating every gulp.</p> - -<p>Now the shouts of the guards and the roaring, cracking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -voice of the captain rang along the platform, and the train -moved slowly forward. The door on the right was left half -open.</p> - -<p>Tim watched the shadow of the train as it moved along -beside the tracks. It must be past noon. Was it this -morning they’d attacked the fort?</p> - -<p>The train jerked and stopped. With a squeaking and -clanking of tortured couplings it started again and gathered -speed. Warehouses and sheds flicked by in a blur, like -bits of faded glass in a kaleidoscope.</p> - -<p>As the train left the city by the sea the landscape was -flat, dotted with brown-leaved little trees and tall pines -with trunks which reached high and bare before they -branched into thickly needled clusters. Once when the -train slowed down for a moment the face of one of the -guards hung upside down from the roof of the car, then -disappeared again.</p> - -<p>As they rattled through the countryside Tim was the -only one in the car who stayed awake. The train swayed -and rocked across huge swamps filled with trees with swollen -roots, their branches dripping with Spanish moss. The -pungent odor of stagnant water and rotting wood mixed -with the smell in the cattle cars.</p> - -<p>Tim’s senses dimmed. His head dipped and came up -again. He pinched himself, stood up and steadied himself -against the door frame of the car.</p> - -<p>Kautz’s head snapped up. “Have we changed direction?”</p> - -<p>Tim sat down. “No,” he said. “I judge by the sun that -we’re still going roughly northwest.”</p> - -<p>“How long have we been on the road?”</p> - -<p>“About half an hour.”</p> - -<p>“No chance for Beaufort now,” Kautz said. “They’re -taking us to Georgia or Columbia. There’s a place called<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> -Branchville just ahead. If we fork right, it will be -Columbia. I hope that’s what we do. My maps don’t cover -much of Georgia. Then there’s the matter of getting help. -We can’t get to our lines without some help. They say -there are Unionists in North Carolina and Tennessee.”</p> - -<p>“Then we go north, no matter what.”</p> - -<p>“It looks that way,” Kautz said. “Get some rest, Lieutenant. -I’ve had enough sleep.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER EIGHT</h2> -</div> - -<p>The train jerked to a stop, and after a spasm or two was -still. Tim groaned and opened his eyes, got up, and -stretched and poked his head into the blinding light outside -the car. The crack of a pistol sounded in his ears. A -bullet sang past his head and dug into the side of the -wooden car. He ducked back into the car, feeling the blood -drain away from his face. Slowly he sat down again on the -floor of the car.</p> - -<p>“Damned maniacs!” said Kautz.</p> - -<p>The old man’s voice sounded just outside the car. “Another -word like that and I’ll shoot every bluebelly on this -train.” He pointed his pistol at Kautz’s head. “And I’ll -start with you, Yankee Captain.”</p> - -<p>Red looked up sleepily. “Who was doing the shooting?”</p> - -<p>“The captain of the guard,” Tim said. “He nearly hit -me in the head.”</p> - -<p>They stared out at the settlement beside the tracks. A -skinny horse was tethered to a lone pine tree. There were -one or two white wooden houses and a chicken shed. A pig -ran into view, going in circles, pursued by a boy of nine<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -or ten. The animal moved with great speed. He and the -boy dropped from sight and appeared again, this time -farther away. The boy dove at the pig and they tumbled -in a cloud of dust. He got up, holding the animal, and took -him, wiggling and squirming, to his pen.</p> - -<p>When the train left Branchville it was clear that they -were heading for Columbia. They were going north. -The countryside was hilly now. The swamps gave way to -meadows and copses, small farmhouses and cotton fields. -They passed through a stand of trees, and in the blur of -foliage Tim thought, If a man jumped here, he’d be sliced -to ribbons by the trees.</p> - -<p>As evening came on and the light grew dim Tim noticed -that Kautz was edging toward the door. Kautz’s face was -tense as he watched the blackening landscape and deep -blue sky. Now the wheels beat a slower tattoo and the -whistle shrieked. There was a different sound as the train -rumbled onto a rickety trestle. Kautz reached out and -touched Tim’s arm. “Soon,” he whispered.</p> - -<p>Tim shook Red’s shoulder to be sure he was awake. -“Captain Kautz says soon.”</p> - -<p>Red lifted his head. “Any time,” he said, crawling past -Tim so he could follow Kautz.</p> - -<p>Kautz crouched tensely by the door. The train droned -across the trestle. Tim thought, Kautz must plan to jump -when we get to the other side.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Kautz reared back and sprang from the train, -and Red crouched to follow him.</p> - -<p>Tim reached out, grabbed Red’s blouse and pulled him -back. “We’re over water and you can’t swim,” he yelled.</p> - -<p>Above the rumble of the train they heard a shot from -the caboose and a yell, and then another shot that echoed -against the surface of the Congaree. Tim looked wildly -toward the door. Our chance is gone for now, he thought.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> -The rumble stopped as the train reached solid ground -again and passed into a wooded area.</p> - -<p>The prisoners began to stir. “Did someone get away?” -asked a timid voice.</p> - -<p>There was a buzz of talk as the train creaked to a stop -and the guards climbed down from the cars. The old man -was furious. “Did someone escape from this car?” he -screamed, his figure silhouetted menacingly in the open -doorway. There was silence.</p> - -<p>The old man spoke to the guards who stood in the twilight -along the tracks, “Guards ride inside the cars,” he -called in a fury of frustration. “Fix your bayonets and use -them at will. No guard sleeps until we reach Columbia. -If another prisoner gets away, you all better start to say -your prayers.”</p> - -<p>The feet of the guards scraped along the gravel. They -moved to the doors and hoisted themselves into the cars. -A skinny boy and a middle-aged, heavy-set man climbed -into Tim’s car and settled themselves against the left-hand -door.</p> - -<p>The old man went down the line and slid all the doors -shut. He shouted to the guards, “If you see a crack of light, -strike out with your bayonet. If any guard sleeps I’ll have -him shot.”</p> - -<p>As the train moved forward it seemed to Tim that the -heat in the car had already risen ten degrees. He leaned -toward Red. “Do you think Kautz got away?”</p> - -<p>“Sure he did. The water was high,” Red said, “and -you’d be with him if it wasn’t for me.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll have our chance,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>As the train moved through the night the air in the car -became unbearable. The middle-aged guard stumbled forward -and slid the door half open. “We have to get some -air,” he said, “but you all stay clear of the door.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>Tim breathed more easily now. The sky was soft and -deep, and the stars touched the crests of the rolling hills -with a faint, unearthly light. Tall pines were etched -against the blue, and occasionally the light of a lamp -marked a beckoning square in the dark outline of a house.</p> - -<p>The train moved through the night, its headlamp sending -a feeble light along the rails, its firebox glowing -orange, the smoke from the engine streaming behind.</p> - -<p>In the caboose the old captain laid his pistol on the table -and fanned out his playing cards. He frowned at the scar-faced -sergeant who sat across from him.</p> - -<p>In the other cars the prisoners slept and the guards -struggled to stay awake.</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>When Tim woke, the train had stopped but he could -hear the engine’s slow, metallic puffing sounds and the -guards talking outside the cars. He couldn’t remember -where he was and in a sudden panic he reached out in the -dark and put his hand on someone’s arm.</p> - -<p>He heard Red’s voice. “That you, Tim?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“If they don’t let us out of here, I’m afraid I might be -sick.”</p> - -<p>Tim reached into the pocket of his blouse and brought -out a couple of blackstrap molasses cakes. “Eat one of -these.”</p> - -<p>Red took the leathery cake and mumbled thanks.</p> - -<p>The door of the railroad car slid open. Tim breathed -deeply.</p> - -<p>The old man’s voice rose above the others. “Get out of -the cars.”</p> - -<p>The prisoners climbed stiffly from the cars and formed -loose ranks along the platform. “This place smells like an -orchard in early spring,” Tim said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>“A sinkhole would smell like heaven after that trip.”</p> - -<p>“Quiet,” the scar-faced sergeant said. “The captain is -mean as the devil tonight. Your welcoming committee -isn’t here.”</p> - -<p>The old man was bullying up and down the ranks. “Stay -in line, you devils,” he shouted. “Keep them in line, you -lazy trash.” He stood in a circle of gaslight at the end of the -platform with his hands on his hips and greeted a detachment -of men in Confederate uniform. “Where in hell have -you been?” he howled to the lieutenant in command of the -guard. “You were supposed to be here when the train -came in.”</p> - -<p>The lieutenant was an even-tempered man. “I’ll take -the gentlemen now,” he said.</p> - -<p>The old captain made a vulgar sound. “Gentlemen!” -he exploded. “These men are the lowest of Yankee scum.”</p> - -<p>The lieutenant looked along the line. “Any trouble to -report?”</p> - -<p>“One escape from the long bridge trestle on the Congaree. -I got him with my second shot.”</p> - -<p>“You know his name, so I can put it in the report?”</p> - -<p>The old man’s voice was rising again. “Now how the -devil would I know his name?”</p> - -<p>The lieutenant gave a command to his men and they -came down the line, ordering the prisoners to march.</p> - -<p>The column moved along the platform, past the silent -cars into the pool of gaslight, out of the stationyard and -along a lamplit street lined with white wooden houses, cool -and dark under the cover of stately trees.</p> - -<p>The guards spoke to the prisoners now and then, and the -prisoners talked quietly among themselves. “How did you -get through the battle alive?”</p> - -<p>“Kautz and I and some of the others survived the retreat. -Did you hear the order to retreat?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>“No,” Tim said. “It must have come after I got into the -fort.”</p> - -<p>“Saints preserve us, you mean you jumped right into the -fort?” Red said.</p> - -<p>“There was no place else to go.”</p> - -<p>Tim stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blouse. -“But if you lived through the retreat, how did they take -you prisoner?”</p> - -<p>“After the battle, under a flag of truce. Kautz and I followed -the doctors out to the field to help the wounded -and identify our dead.” Red lowered his head and clenched -his fists. “They took us prisoners while we were out there -on an errand of mercy. They broke their word. An officer -from Charleston wanted to let us go back to our lines. It -was a renegade Yankee who put up the fuss. He said the -commanding general would have to approve our release, -but of course we heard no more of that.”</p> - -<p>“Did you know that Sergeant Fitch was killed?”</p> - -<p>“I did. He was a blessed man.”</p> - -<p>The column passed a lamplit printing office. “We need -news of our troops,” Tim said, “if we’re going to head for -Union lines.”</p> - -<p>“And maps,” said Red. “Captain Kautz had all the -maps.”</p> - -<p>“I wish we could make a break right now.”</p> - -<p>“Quiet in the ranks,” said one of the guards.</p> - -<p>The men’s boots sounded on the pavement; a bell in a -nearby tower tolled the hour. When its echo had died -away the voice of the town crier sounded in the street. -“Ten o’clock and all’s well!”</p> - -<p>The Confederate lieutenant called a halt in front of a -three-story building that appeared to be a jail. It was built -of brick, and the windows were heavily barred. Four steps -led up to a door in the middle of the building, and beside<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -the steps, just under a lamp, stood a prison guard. The -man’s features, lit from above, were ghoulish in the yellow -light.</p> - -<p>The lieutenant spoke to the guard. “Captain Senn is -nowhere about, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, he’s not. He won’t be back until tomorrow -morning.”</p> - -<p>“Did he leave any orders for these prisoners?”</p> - -<p>“Not that I know of, Lieutenant.”</p> - -<p>“Then we’ll set up camp in the vacant lot at the corner -of Gadsden and Taylor Streets.”</p> - -<p>The lieutenant turned to the prisoners. “Will the officers -step forward, please?”</p> - -<p>Tim, Red, Dawson and two other men stepped out of -the ranks.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait till morning for a ration -of food,” the lieutenant said. “Did they feed you before -you boarded the train?”</p> - -<p>Tim looked toward Dawson, the ranking officer, but -Dawson didn’t speak. “Most of us have had very little -food today, but we’re so tired that if we have some place to -sleep we can manage until morning,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>“I’ll see that you get rations at the crack of dawn,” the -lieutenant said. “The officers will probably be billeted -here, but I don’t know what plans we have for the enlisted -men.”</p> - -<p>The prisoners were marched around the corner and -settled in an empty lot, under the watchful eyes of the -guards.</p> - -<p>Tim and Red rolled up their blouses for pillows and -lay down under a spindly tree. Red lay on his side. “Why -is Captain Dawson avoiding us?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Poor devil went to pieces in this morning’s assault.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -I had to pry a dead boy loose from him and slap his face to -bring him to his senses.”</p> - -<p>“He’s been heading for trouble for a long time now.”</p> - -<p>A soldier near them groaned, “Why don’t you boys go -to sleep?”</p> - -<p>Tim lay on his back and looked into the sky. The stars -cast a faint light on the shapes of the prisoners and the -sentries standing around the lot. Tim couldn’t wait to -escape. In his mind he raced like a phantom through the -pine forests of North Carolina and across the mountains -into Eastern Tennessee.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER NINE</h2> -</div> - -<p>In the morning a warm, westerly breeze was blowing -across the river where it flowed past the city just to the -west. Tim noticed that a railroad ran close by. As he -looked to the north he noticed that it followed the river’s -course. In the east the sun was rising, round and red -above the Statehouse roof. The war seemed far away from -this peaceful Southern city. There was a fine green park -nearby, and just across the street, in the side yard of one -of a row of neat clapboard houses, a line of white sheets -flapped in the breeze.</p> - -<p>Red was still asleep as Tim got up. He pulled off his -boots and shook out his socks, then put his socks and boots -back on again. He walked to a well near the corner of -the lot. A guard standing nearby nodded to him, and Tim -pumped some water and doused his head. “Is the water -good for drinking?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I reckon so.”</p> - -<p>Tim cupped his left hand and pumped and drank the -clear, cool water. When he straightened up he saw the -Confederate lieutenant walking toward him. “Good morning,” -the man said. “The rations will be along shortly.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>Tim smiled. “That’s good.”</p> - -<p>“My name is Davis,” the lieutenant said suddenly. “My -home’s in Georgia. How about you?”</p> - -<p>Tim smiled again. “Bradford,” he said. “I’m from -Connecticut.”</p> - -<p>The lieutenant raised his hand in a kind of salute and -moved off, walking easily among the prisoners, talking to -Dawson first and then to some of the other men.</p> - -<p>A wagon rattled into the lot, driven by a big young -Negro boy perched high on the wooden seat, smiling -proudly and nodding to the Confederate lieutenant. Some -of the early risers helped build a fire. They heated water -for coffee, and the colored boy passed out rations to the -men who were awake. The other prisoners opened their -eyes, stretched and shambled over to stand in line.</p> - -<p>Red was one of the last to stir. When he saw Tim sitting -near him with a corncake in his hand he sat up straight. -“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked accusingly.</p> - -<p>“There’s plenty of food, and I figured you needed your -beauty sleep.”</p> - -<p>“And so I did.”</p> - -<p>When they had finished breakfast and settled themselves -with tin cups filled with steaming bitter coffee Red leaned -forward. “You and I are going to get away,” he said. -“From this point forward we’ll bend ourselves to that one -end.”</p> - -<p>“This country is good,” Tim said. “I should think a man -could live off the land.”</p> - -<p>“We can’t depend on doing that. The more supplies we -can take, the better off we’ll be.” Red laughed. “But we’re -getting ahead of ourselves.”</p> - -<p>“By tonight we’ll probably be in that jail,” Tim said, -waving toward the gray roof that stood above the trees -“We’ll have to make our break from there.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>Red looked along the tracks. “It would help if I could -swim,” he said with a touch of bitterness.</p> - -<p>“We’ll ask the guards to give you lessons in the river -yonder.”</p> - -<p>“And then in three or four months, when I’m good and -ready, we can beg their leave,” Red said with a grin.</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>About midmorning a man, who must be Captain Senn, -and a fat, dull-eyed corporal walked with Lieutenant Davis -to the middle of the lot. Senn was a humorless man who -wore his immaculate uniform awkwardly. He sported a -blue forage cap and white gloves tucked into the crimson-edged -belt that was looped around his slightly oversized -blouse. He carried no pistol, but a long sword bumped -against his side. His stiffness contrasted with the easy manner -of Lieutenant Davis.</p> - -<p>The lieutenant asked the Yankee officers to step forward. -“This is Captain Senn,” he said, “Commandant of the -Post Guard.”</p> - -<p>Senn cleared his throat and faced the five. “You will be -in my charge,” he said, looking at Dawson. “You will be -imprisoned on the second floor of the jail. If you try to -escape—and you don’t get shot—I’ll give you a spell of -solitary confinement.” He tapped his foot, fingered the -tassel that hung from the handle of his sword, and smiled -frostily. “And where would you go?”</p> - -<p>Senn nodded to the fat corporal, who had a large ring of -keys dangling from his belt. “This is Corporal Addison. -He will show you to your quarters.”</p> - -<p>Addison’s heavy-lidded eyes moved dully from one -Yankee face to the next. He stuck out his lower lip, motioned -with his head, and shouldered his rifle. The five -Yankee officers understood that they were to march at the -corporal’s side.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span></p> - -<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_075"> -<img class="w100" src="images/i_075.jpg" alt="Richland Jail in Columbia, S. C., 1863"> -<figcaption class="caption"> - -<p class="caption"><span class="large">Richland Jail in Columbia, S. C., 1863</span><br> - -Showing Jailyard and Second Floor</p></figcaption> -</figure> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>They crossed the street, walked through a grove of trees -and approached the back of the jail. There was a stout -wooden enclosure around the jailyard. Addison pounded -on a solid wooden gate at the back of the yard. “Addison -with prisoners,” he shouted.</p> - -<p>After a sliding of wooden bars the gate was opened. The -courtyard had an earthen floor. Close to the jail building -and against the right-hand fence stood a small one-story -brick building with two doorways facing the courtyard. -At the near end of the small building was a rudely built -woodshed, its back wall formed by the courtyard fence, its -far side adjoining the small building. The other two walls -were of thin, weathered planks that bulged outward near -the bottom.</p> - -<p>Besides the guard who had admitted the prisoners, -there was one other man who paced off a vigil along the -fence. He stared with sharp hostility as the little column -passed his station. The prisoners were taken through the -door at the back of the jailhouse.</p> - -<p>Tim’s spirit was chilled as they passed along a dank -corridor to the stair well at the front of the building. The -door to the stairs was made of heavy wood. It had a small -barred window near the top.</p> - -<p>The corporal unclipped the key ring from his belt, and -after some deliberation picked out a key. He inserted it in -the lock, turned it and pulled the door open. The five -prisoners waited as the corporal replaced the key ring and -fumbled with his rifle, signaling them to precede him up -the stairs. They waited again in the dusky hallway on the -second floor as the corporal lumbered up. Tim thought -how easily they could overpower this lubberly man, get -his keys, and let themselves out the front door to the street, -but he remembered the guard who had stood under the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> -lamp. He gritted his teeth and clasped his hands behind -his back.</p> - -<p>Corporal Addison pushed a heavy unlocked door on the -other side of the corridor. It swung open, revealing a room -about ten feet by twelve, at the far end of which was a -small fireplace flanked by barred windows facing north. -The floor was made up of splintering planks. The room -was without furniture. The corporal pointed to a small -doorway in the right-hand wall. “There are two pails in -there, one for water, one for waste.” He turned on his -heel, stepped into the hall and slammed and locked the -door.</p> - -<p>As the sound of the corporal’s footfalls died away Dawson -moved to the window and stared through the bars. -For the first time Tim looked closely at the two strange -officers. They appeared to be members of the derelict -group who had joined them at the Charleston depot. They -looked half-starved. Their tattered uniforms hung loosely -on their bony frames. The shorter of the two was already -settling on the floor, but the other smiled faintly. Tim -held out his hand and introduced Red, Dawson and himself. -Dawson turned briefly from the window and nodded.</p> - -<p>“I’m Lieutenant Peter Mills of the Eighth Michigan,” -the stranger said, looking mournfully at the little man who -had stretched himself out on the floor. “I was captured -more than a year ago at James Island. I’ve been in -Charleston jail all year, treated as a common criminal.”</p> - -<p>For just a moment a flame of anger lit the man’s sunken -eyes. “I ran out of money long ago,” he said, “and I’ve got -none from home. The rations in that jail weren’t good -enough to feed a pig. The place was filled with criminals -and slatternly women. I saw hundreds of them come and -go. Once when I was sick they put me in a hospital just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> -behind the prison yard, but as soon as I was better they -put me back in jail again. Now I’ve lost the will to escape -and almost lost the will to live.”</p> - -<p>The effort of speaking had exhausted the man. He sank -down beside the smaller fellow, who was already lost in -sleep. “This man was taken from a Charleston hospital,” -Mills breathed. “He must be sick. He hasn’t said a word.”</p> - -<p>Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out a molasses -cake and the one remaining orange that had belonged to -Private Greene. He handed them to Lieutenant Mills. -“Thank you,” Mills said with an expression of gratitude. -“Do you mind if I eat the orange later?”</p> - -<p>“Eat it when you want,” Tim said. “I’m sorry it couldn’t -be more.”</p> - -<p>Dawson turned from the window and clasped his hands -behind his back. He glanced at Red with mild hostility.</p> - -<p>Red scratched his beard and looked at Dawson. “We’re -in this together,” he said. “We have to live together in -this room and make whatever plans might benefit us all.”</p> - -<p>“I guess Bradford has told you about my fault.”</p> - -<p>Tim spoke softly. “Forget about that.”</p> - -<p>Dawson nodded almost gratefully. “But you can leave -me out of your plans,” he said, looking down at Mills who -had fallen asleep with the orange in his hand, “and these -poor wretches couldn’t walk as far as the city limits.” -Dawson stared out the window again. “You’d have to have -wings to get away from here,” he said with a bitter laugh.</p> - -<p>Red turned away impatiently and sat down on the floor. -Tim moved to the other window, and reached through -the bars and raised the creaking sash, propping it up with -a stick he found on the sill.</p> - -<p>Just across the way Tim saw a white building that -seemed to be a school. It was closed now, but a scattering<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> -of children romped in the yard. Four little girls were -playing tag on a patch of grass, and two boys laughed and -wrestled under a tree.</p> - -<p>Beside the school was a one-story house, neat and clean, -with a garden in front. A woman with a basket over her -arm was just coming out of the house.</p> - -<p>In the vacant lot the guards were ordering the prisoners -into ranks. Tim watched as they moved along the street -toward the east.</p> - -<p>The river glistened like a sheet of polished steel in the -citron light of the summer sun. Tim could see the shapes -of islands where the Congaree joined the Saluda and -the Broad. Columbia Canal followed the near shore of the -Congaree and disappeared behind trees near the edge -of town. The city was laid out in squares, their pattern -broken by a handsome park just across the way.</p> - -<p>He heard a train whistle, and an engine and a line of -cars—much like the ones that had brought them to Columbia—came -into view. The train was heading north. Tim -watched until it disappeared among the trees at the edge of -the city and the last bit of smoke blew away. As he turned -from the window the whistle sounded again, this time -far away.</p> - -<p>He sat on the floor below the window, reached into the -inside pocket of his blouse and pulled out his billfold and -a couple of dog-eared pieces of paper. He fumbled in a -pocket and brought out the stub of a pencil. The other -men were all asleep. Red was slumped in a corner of the -room, sleeping peacefully with a ghost of a smile across his -face. Tim smoothed out a piece of paper against the surface -of his billfold. Red must be dreaming of home, he thought. -He sharpened his pencil against a brick, licked the point -and began to write:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right"> -<span class="smcap">Richland Jail  </span><br> -<span class="smcap">Columbia</span>, S. C.<br> -July 12, 1863     </p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mother and Father</span>,</p> - -<p>Yesterday I was taken prisoner and today I find myself in -jail. It seems I will be here for a spell.</p> - -<p>Surely through no fault of yours, I have had no word from -home since May. It might be worth a try to write me at the -old address at Hilton Head, hoping that when the Colonel -learns our whereabouts our mail will be forwarded here. I -have heard of mail being taken to prisons by way of Port -Royal Ferry. The Rebels are often kind in such matters, as -we have some of their boys too.</p> - -<p>My health is good and I am cheered by the presence of my -friend Lieutenant Kelly. I have mentioned him in other letters. -Of course I am hoping we may be exchanged, but we -have no word of the chances for that.</p> - -<p>If you can send a box, I know that books will be a special -want, and paper and pencils and a change of underclothes. -I have some money but more would be useful, if it can be -spared. I don’t know if a sutler comes to this jail, but I -imagine that things can be bought somehow.</p> - -<p>I long to see your faces more than ever now. Love to the -twins, and when you see Kate in church ask her to send that -long-awaited photograph.</p> - -<p class="right">Your loving son,       <br> -<span class="smcap">Timothy Bradford</span><br> -<i>Lieut. 7th Ct.</i>           </p> -</div> - -<p>He folded the letter and put it, with the billfold and -remaining sheet of writing paper, back into his pocket. He -measured the pencil stub between his thumb and forefinger, -and shook his head. He slipped it into his pocket.</p> - -<p>He got up from the floor and looked out the window -again, this time with unseeing eyes. He turned from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -window and paced along the wall and back again. Now -that the letter was finished he was tortured by a feeling of -suffocation. He wanted to send it on its way right now, -or better still, deliver it himself.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER TEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>As Tim finished his game with Red they heard the -familiar rattle of keys and the sound of the lower door. -“There’s Bull Head,” said Red, “coming to take us to the -yard.” Tim swept the chessmen off the board and set them -on the mantle.</p> - -<p>They had been in the jail for nearly five months now. -After a week or so they had been joined by the officers -captured in the second attempt to take Fort Wagner. This -room where they had first been imprisoned wasn’t used for -sleeping now. The Army prisoners had been given the -run of the second floor, and this had been kept as a sort -of common room.</p> - -<p>They had thought of escape almost constantly, but they -hadn’t found a plan that was good enough. If they worked -together they might overpower the guards, but the hue and -cry would come too soon. Some might escape but some -would surely lose their lives. Prisoners went outside under -guard every day, but they were carefully watched. An open -wagon came into the yard several times a week bringing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> -food, but it went out empty. There was no place to hide -on the wagon.</p> - -<p>Shortly after the arrival of his prisoners Captain Senn -had realized that their stay was to be an extended one, and -he’d had double-decker bunk beds installed in the cells -along the corridor. The beds were furnished with straw -mattresses and one rough woolen blanket each, supplied -by some kindhearted women of Columbia.</p> - -<p>For a time the floor above the Army officers had been -occupied by Army privates, but these men had been sent -to Belle Island prison to suffer through the winter in the -open air. Now the second floor was occupied by Navy men -captured in Admiral Dahlgren’s unsuccessful attempt to -land an assaulting force at Sumter.</p> - -<p>Corporal Addison appeared at the top of the stairs, his -holstered pistol bumping foolishly against the curve of -his stomach. Another guard stood behind Addison, his -bayonet glistening in the gloom. “Fall in,” Addison said. -“Time to take you to the yard.”</p> - -<p>He might have saved himself the trouble of giving the -command. Most of the men already waited in line and now -they filed along the corridor, talking to each other in -quiet tones.</p> - -<p>The day was warm for late fall, but Tim shivered as he -moved down the stairs and walked through the lower -corridor, buttoning his ragged uniform.</p> - -<p>There was sunlight in the yard. Tim’s spirits rose a -little as he and Red began their walk. Some of the prisoners -took out playing cards and settled against the wall, or -marked out games of tick-tack-toe on the ground, but Tim -and Red had discovered they could endure prison life -better if they took regular exercise. They passed the one-story -brick cookshack with its two doors, each leading to -a separate kitchen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>Red kicked at a little mound of dust. “You seem downhearted -this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>There were six guards in the courtyard. Two were -standing near them by the wooden gate at the end of -the yard. Tim spoke softly. “It’s been a week since we’ve -talked about escape. Prospects of exchange have grown -dim. There’s been no mail from Kate or your folks or -mine for more than a month. Our money has given out -and our rations are poor.”</p> - -<p>While the money had lasted, the Army prisoners had -pooled their funds and paid the colored woman who -brought in their rations to bring in extra food and do -the cooking, but when their money was gone Senn, in -his methodical way, had taken seven volunteers, telling -each to cook two meals one day a week. The midday meal -was cold. Tim cooked on Mondays.</p> - -<p>He was glad to do it, to break up the routine, but -Red had said he had no love for stirring pots. The meals -were served in a long room on the first floor of the jail.</p> - -<p>The Navy had a separate mess. Two sailors had volunteered -for permanent duty in the kitchen. One cooked -and the other was a kind of handyman who helped the cook -and did the laundry for the Navy boys.</p> - -<p>As Tim and Red swung around the yard they saw the -two sailors lounging by the door. One of them was large -and ugly. He had a jolly nature and a great mop of black -hair. The other was slight with bright blue eyes and light -brown hair. Both sailors expected to be exchanged.</p> - -<p>The big man cheerfully bore the name of “Devil” given -him by shipmates of a happier time. When he saw Tim -and Red he raised his hand in greeting, and the little -sailor smiled.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Devil,” said Tim. “What are you serving tonight?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>The smaller sailor, whose name was Bell, said, “Chicken -cooked in wine.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed,” said Red. “I’ll dine with the Navy tonight.” -He smiled at Devil. “You boys are privileged characters. -How does it happen Senn lets two Navy men work in the -cookshack at once?”</p> - -<p>Devil screwed his face into a grin. “It’s because we’re -such capital fellows and they trust us,” he said. “Nobody -can trust an Army man.”</p> - -<p>Tim laughed softly. “And you cook for Senn sometimes.”</p> - -<p>Devil leaned forward and fixed Tim with a roguish stare. -“I plan to poison him,” he whispered.</p> - -<p>There was a pounding at the gate before their time -was up, and the prisoners were ordered into the building -again. Tim was on kitchen duty tonight. He stood with -Devil and Bell and watched as the guards opened the gate -and the wagon came through. The colored boy, Tom -Jackson, whom Tim had first seen in the vacant lot months -before, was holding the reins. His mother, whom the -prisoners called “Aunty,” sat beside him. As the wagon -pulled up to the cookshack the woman’s thin face wrinkled -into a smile.</p> - -<p>Devil said, “You’re late today.”</p> - -<p>The woman slapped her knee and laughed. “Sorry indeed.”</p> - -<p>Tom shouted, “Evening, Lieutenant. Evening, sailor -men.”</p> - -<p>Aunty waited while her son and the white men unloaded -the wagon and stored the food on the shelves in the -kitchens. When they had nearly finished she beckoned to -Tim. “Under the canvas just behind the seat you’ll find -a barrel of salt pork. Share it all around.”</p> - -<p>“We have no money,” Tim said. “Did Captain Senn -order the pork?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>“Never mind,” the woman cackled, “but if anyone asks -you, tell them you paid me fair and square.”</p> - -<p>Tim kept his face as straight as he could. “You didn’t -steal it did you, Aunty?”</p> - -<p>Aunty went into gales of laughter, and a guard who -watched from a little distance looked toward her uneasily.</p> - -<p>She screeched, “You shouldn’t talk like that to poor old -Aunty. You unload the wagon now!”</p> - -<p>When they had finished unloading, Tom whipped the -horse around, the guards opened the gate, and the wagon -moved toward the end of the yard. Tim watched as the -gate swung wide.</p> - -<p>The guards made Tom rein in when the wagon was halfway -through. One of them hopped to the hub of a front -wheel and stabbed the ragged canvas with the point of his -bayonet.</p> - -<p>Aunty screamed, “Don’t you poke my canvas full of -holes.”</p> - -<p>Addison came through the jailhouse door, and the guard -who had been watching them mumbled something in -the corporal’s ear.</p> - -<p>Addison looked toward Tim. “What were you and the -old crow saying?”</p> - -<p>“Aunty was having one of her jokes,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>Addison stuck out his lower lip and motioned with his -head toward the other guard. “This fellow thinks I should -inspect the stores.”</p> - -<p>Devil grinned. “Why don’t you do that, Corporal?”</p> - -<p>Addison, with a sour expression on his face, waddled -after Tim to the Army kitchen. He poked his way through -sacks of com meal and rice and boxes of crackers as Devil -and Bell looked on from the yard. He shook a keg of -vinegar and kicked the barrel that held the pork. “What’s -in this?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>“Dried meat or sorghum molasses, I think,” Tim said. -“If you want me to pry off the top we can look.”</p> - -<p>“Never mind,” Addison said, dipping his grubby hand -into a tin of salt and licking his fingers one by one. “I -reckon nothing was smuggled in.”</p> - -<p>Devil stood in the doorway, fingering his pie-shaped -Navy cap. “What did you expect to find?”</p> - -<p>Addison frowned darkly and rocked a little from side -to side. “Knives or guns.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said Devil, smiling wickedly.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN">CHAPTER ELEVEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>The following Monday Addison’s shout rang down the -hall and the prisoners began to stir. Tim slept in a second-tier -bunk. He opened his eyes and pulled up his blanket -to shield himself from the chilly air. This left his feet -sticking out. He stared, as he had stared a hundred times -before, at the rough-hewn rafters and the boards that -formed the floor above. He threw off his blanket and sat -on the edge of his bunk. One of his boots was lying on -the end of the mattress. He reached for it and turned it -over in his hands. As he looked he began to frown. If he -had some money, he could send out his boots to have the -soles and heels repaired. He’d noticed they leaked the -last time he walked in the jailyard after a rain.</p> - -<p>Addison finished checking the beds and poked his head -through the door. “Ready to go to the kitchen, Lieutenant?”</p> - -<p>Tim slid to the floor, found his other boot and pulled it -on, balancing himself against the bunk. “Combed and -manicured. Ready for another day.”</p> - -<p>“You seem right cheerful this morning, Lieutenant,” -Addison said accusingly.</p> - -<p>“I like to cook. It makes me happy.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>Red pulled his blanket away from his face and looked -sleepily down from his bunk. Then he pulled the blanket -up again.</p> - -<p>Dawson and Mills were dead to the world.</p> - -<p>When Tim stepped into the yard he could hear Devil -singing chanteys in the Navy kitchen.</p> - -<p>Devil poked his head through the kitchen door and -rubbed the bristles on his chin. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”</p> - -<p>Tim went into the Army kitchen and started a fire in -the stove. He pulled his toothbrush out of his pocket and -held it between his teeth while he drew a cup of water -from the big tank. He moistened the toothbrush, sprinkled -it lightly with salt and brushed his teeth. He drew his -thumb across the bristles before putting the brush back -into his pocket.</p> - -<p>He cooked up a mush with cornmeal and sorghum -molasses and heated a pail of coffee. When he finished -cooking he took the breakfast to the Army mess with the -help of a guard.</p> - -<p>They carried out pails of tin plates and cups that had -been soiled the night before and set them between the -kitchen doors. At ten o’clock a couple of prisoners would -go under guard to the pump at the corner of the vacant -lot to rinse the dishes, while other men, also under guard, -would carry the waste pails to a stream that ran to the river -through a culvert under the canal.</p> - -<p>Tim ate a bowl of mush and drank his coffee. He -scraped the stove and tossed a couple of wooden spoons into -one of the pails outside the door. He had finished his -work. He stood in the doorway for a moment, then wandered -into the Navy kitchen.</p> - -<p>Bell was stirring a potful of clothes with the broken -handle of a broom. “Good morning, Lieutenant,” he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>“Too busy to talk,” said Devil.</p> - -<p>During warmer weather the prisoners had had a weekly -swim in the river and the Army men had done their -laundry in wooden buckets while they were at liberty in the -yard. Now it was too cold for swimming, and most of the -men—finding it unpleasant to do their laundry in the open -air—had given it up. Tim had been waiting for a chance to -talk to Senn, to see if the Army prisoners could have an -extra kitchen hand, as the Navy had, to do the wash and -help carry the food. If they couldn’t have baths, at least -they should have a way to wash their clothes.</p> - -<p>Tim passed the time of day with Devil and Bell until it -was time to go back upstairs.</p> - -<p>At ten thirty the prisoners were taken out for their -morning airing. Tim and Red were among the first to -enter the yard. They found the Navy prisoners still there.</p> - -<p>Everyone in the yard was watching Addison and the -guards who had escorted the dishwashers to the pump and -the pail carriers to the stream. Members of the detail -were standing by the fence, their faces white as chalk.</p> - -<p>One of the guards stood close to Addison. His body was -racked by sobs. His hands hung forlornly at his sides and -he drew in his breath in shuddering gasps. “God help me,” -he wailed, “I just meant to stop him. I never meant to -kill.”</p> - -<p>The stricken boy was suddenly aware that Army prisoners -were filing into the yard. He shrank back in fear. The -guards brought up their muskets, and the Army men found -themselves held at the end of the yard. An uneasy silence -was broken by the intermittent sobbing and wailing of the -guard. Addison finally mumbled something to the sentries, -and he and the boy left the yard by the wagon gate.</p> - -<p>When the Navy prisoners had been taken back into the -building a tall Confederate private sauntered toward the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -soldiers, his gray overcoat swinging at his knees. “Take -your exercise,” he said gruffly. “Spread out and take your -exercise.”</p> - -<p>Red spoke up. “What happened outside?”</p> - -<p>“Shut your mouth and mind your own affairs.”</p> - -<p>The sentries stood along the fences and by the buildings. -The guard was almost double now. The early morning -shift was staying on duty in the yard.</p> - -<p>The prisoners who had witnessed the shooting mingled -with the others. Now one of them, a man named Frazer, -began to explain. “Remember Jones? Well, he’s dead. -Shot by the boy who went out with Addison. We’re washing -the waste pails in the creek, and the guards are joking with -us, and I notice that Jones is working his way downstream -to a place near a thick grove of trees, making a big job of -rinsing his pails....”</p> - -<p>The tall Rebel private shouted from his place by the -gate, “Break up that group. Spread out, or I’ll send you -back inside.”</p> - -<p>Tim pretended to drift away but he and Red stayed -close enough to Frazer so that they could hear how Jones -had been killed.</p> - -<p>Frazer went on. “Suddenly Jones gets up and looks -around, smiling at the guard in what he means to be a -casual way, and points to a place in the creek. Then he -says, ‘There’s a pretty stone.’ Well, the guards kind of -notice, because Jones’s voice shakes and his face is pale. -Suddenly Jones wheels and dashes among the trees toward -the bridge that crosses the canal. Two of the guards are -older men, but this young one dashes after Jones, quick -as a rabbit, and drops him with one shot. Then he lets his -rifle fall and runs and bends over Jones, quiet, while we all -stand there like mutes. Then the boy starts to shake Jones -and cry and carry on....”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>Frazer kept talking, but Tim and Red had heard enough -and they started their walk around the yard. “Did you -know Jones?” asked Tim.</p> - -<p>“Hardly at all. He was a quiet man. I wonder what was -in his mind.”</p> - -<p>“There would be sentries on the bridge that crosses -Columbia Canal. I can only think he must have gone -mad.”</p> - -<p>“If he went that way he wasn’t heading north. He must -have been thinking of Beaufort, if he was thinking at all.”</p> - -<p>Captain Senn came out of the jail. A soldier was with -him, carrying a pasteboard box.</p> - -<p>Senn raised his voice. “Army prisoners come here.”</p> - -<p>The men gathered around. “You have heard by now,” -Senn said, “that one of your number tried to escape. He -was shot. He should have been shot. It will serve as a -lesson to you not to be foolish when you leave the prison -under guard. The soldier who shot this man said he wasn’t -shooting to kill. I told him it is the duty of a prison guard -to shoot an escaping man. I told him I would have shot -the man myself. I would not hesitate to shoot one of you. -Not at all.” He fingered the pistol that hung at his side -and smiled his frostbitten smile. “And now there are better -things to talk about. In this box we have some mail.”</p> - -<p>The soldier reached for the letters one at a time and -called out names. There was a letter for Jones. Senn -snatched the letter. Red’s name was called. Red took his -letter and turned away. Tim heard his own name called.</p> - -<p>He reached for the letter and saw that it was addressed -in Kate’s fine hand. His hands trembled as he turned it -over several times, then tucked it into his inside pocket.</p> - -<p>When the mail had been distributed Senn cleared his -throat. “Three of you are lucky. Bradford, Brown and -Frazer received money in the mail. We have a system now.”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -He frowned. “To prevent illegal exchange. I give you -printed slips. You fill them out. These authorize our -quartermaster to convert your money to Confederate currency -at Government rates. The quartermaster keeps the -money in his care....”</p> - -<p>As Senn droned on, Tim lost the hope of ever seeing his -cash. He heard Senn’s words again, “... but the sutler -won’t come to the jail as he did before. You will give your -requests for goods to Corporal Addison or me, and the -wagon will deliver your things to the jail. A list of goods -and prices has been posted by the door at the end of your -corridor.”</p> - -<p>Tim reached for his slip. His family had sent him a -hundred dollars. He filled out the slip and gave it back -to Senn, who nodded with a show of friendliness. “Your -goods will be brought in on Thursday, if the quartermaster -has what you want.”</p> - -<p>Red’s face was like a happy child’s. “Nancy’s fine, and -she says the little fellow’s well. Looks just like his dad, she -says.”</p> - -<p>Tim grinned. “I’m glad she’s well and the little fellow -too. I’m glad he has good health to make up for his looks.”</p> - -<p>Red smiled and walked away.</p> - -<p>Tim sat on the steps of the Army kitchen. He took out -Kate’s letter and read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Stone’s Brook, Connecticut</span><br> -October 27, 1863                       </p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dear Tim</span>,</p> - -<p>Your letters give great pleasure to us all. We thank God -your health is fine and that you have a friend like Lieutenant -Kelly to lighten your days in that dark jail. I am sure it must -work the other way as well. How fondly I remember the many -times when I was blue until you made me laugh!</p> - -<p>Perhaps I shouldn’t say it in a letter that might be read by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> -your captors, but it seems the war has taken a turning now. -The defeat of Lee at Gettysburg was a blow to the Confederacy. -Now we have news that General Grant is Supreme -Commander in the west. Maybe he will be paying a call on -you soon. Or perhaps your next letter will come from the -comparative freedom of one of our Army camps. How fervently -you must hope for exchange!</p> -</div> - -<p>Kate had written the letter on small, thin paper, and -Tim was surprised to see that the second page was blank. -But when he looked more closely he saw that it was double. -It was covered with spidery lines and printed all over with -the faintest legends. As he looked Tim heard footsteps -on the stony earth and was startled by a voice close by.</p> - -<p>“Time to go back inside,” Red said. When he saw Tim’s -face he laughed. “Did I frighten you, lad?”</p> - -<p>Red started for the jailhouse door, and Tim read on:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>My prayers will be with you wherever you are. God give -you strength to take whatever course you may deem wise. Your -folks have written and we will post our letters at the same -time. We have sent a surprise in a separate packet. There’s -something there from me. Can you guess what? I hope it will -reach you in good time.</p> - -<p class="right">Your loving,<br> -<span class="smcap">Kate</span>       </p> -</div> - -<p>At four o’clock as the prisoners moved into the yard -Captain Senn hailed Tim. “Lieutenant,” he said solemnly, -holding out an envelope, “there was a letter with the -money your family sent. I’m sorry I had to open it.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Captain.”</p> - -<p>“Here is another,” said Senn, making a ceremony of -giving up the second letter. “Since it came from a soldier, -we opened this one too.”</p> - -<p>It hadn’t appeared that Kate’s letter had been opened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -but suppose it had? Then Senn would watch him like a -hawk. Tim looked sharply at Senn’s face and saw nothing -there but that patient, meaningless smile.</p> - -<p>When they were out of earshot Red said, “That stuffed -shirt doesn’t need to apologize for opening our mail. After -all, we’re prisoners of war. But don’t let me keep you -from your mail.”</p> - -<p>They stood in the middle of the yard while Tim read the -letter from his family. He finished reading and said, -“Things are fine at home.”</p> - -<p>“What’s in the letter from Hilton Head?”</p> - -<p>Tim looked at the irregular, unfamiliar writing. “Don’t -know,” he said. He unfolded the letter and read the first -line. “Here, Red, it’s from Greene. Did you know -Greene?”</p> - -<p>“Hardly at all.”</p> - -<p>“Well read it, anyway.”</p> - -<p>They read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Hilton Head, S. C.</span><br> -November 14, 1863</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dear Lieutenant</span>,</p> - -<p>Did you think that bayonet had done me in? Well, thanks -to you it didn’t. That Rebel maniac took me to the hospital -and the surgeon there was a fine gentleman and took care of -me as a father would.</p> - -<p>The thing that frightened me was getting well. I could see -into the jailyard from the hospital. I pray to God your jail -is not like that. A gallows stands in the middle of the yard and -there were puddles all around and people lived out there in -ragged tents, whether by choice or order I couldn’t say. There -were many colored soldiers of the 54th Massachusetts who were -captured in the second assault on the fort where you were -wounded by a private in the seat of the pants. They were -brave fellows, as perhaps you have heard.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>Before they had a chance to throw me in that jail I was -lucky enough to be exchanged. When will you suffer that -happy fate? I hope it will be soon so I can follow you into -Charleston and twist that Rebel corporal’s nose.</p> - -<p>I never told you how I got into the fort. When you went -over the crest I paused for a moment to fuss with my rifle. -Well, I owe my life to that pesky thing. If I’d gone in firing -they would have shot me down. When it wouldn’t work I -scrambled up the parapet anyway. I stumbled on a sandbag -on the top and fell into the place headfirst. They took my -useless gun and sat me down by a cannon to wait the battle out.</p> - -<p>It seems too bad that you are in that jail when you are -almost as brave a man as I.</p> - -<p class="right">Your faithful servant,       <br> -<span class="smcap">Thomas Greene</span>, <i>Private</i></p> -</div> - -<p>Red smiled. “I wish I’d known the boy. Did he really -stick you in the seat of the pants?”</p> - -<p>“I’d forgotten that. I guess he did.”</p> - -<p>“Under those conditions anyone could be brave under -fire.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER TWELVE</h2> -</div> - -<p>That evening when Tim had finished working over the -big, black woodburning stove he went to the Navy kitchen -to have some food with Devil and Bell. He looked down -mournfully at his greasy pants.</p> - -<p>When Devil finished eating he turned to Tim. “You’re -downcast tonight, Lieutenant,” he said, pulling at his long -nose.</p> - -<p>Tim knew by now that he could trust the Navy men. -“I have to get away from here,” he whispered. “Red and -I are dying to get away.”</p> - -<p>Devil was sitting on a barrel and Bell squatted on an -empty wooden box. Bell doused his empty plate in a pail -of water and put it on the table. He held his hands over -his knees and cracked his knuckles. “Are you more anxious -than the rest?”</p> - -<p>“Some others are anxious, too, of course.”</p> - -<p>Bell got up from the box. He reached into a corner and -brought out a copy of a Charleston paper only two weeks -old.</p> - -<p>“Aunty brought me this a few days ago.”</p> - -<p>He unfolded the paper and pointed to a column that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -was headlined <span class="smcap">Present Position of Union Troops</span>. “Sherman’s -in Memphis now, and Burnside’s been in Knoxville -since early September.”</p> - -<p>Tim said, “Knoxville’s closer by some three hundred -miles. But granting that we’d have a chance to get to -Burnside’s lines, how will we get away from here?”</p> - -<p>Devil stood up and walked to the door. When he was -satisfied that none of the guards was near he crossed the -little room and pulled aside a couple of ragged towels that -hung across a corner on a piece of string. A big rusty boiler -was there. “Look here,” he said, pointing at the wall -behind the boiler.</p> - -<p>There was a small, sashless window halfway up the wall. -“That leads to the woodshed, doesn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“It does,” said Devil, “and the fence at the back of the -woodshed happens to be in sorry shape. If a man could find -a time to do a little work he could loosen a board in the -fence.”</p> - -<p>Bell was keeping watch in the doorway. He turned -around to speak to Tim. “The boards of the fence are wide, -and the nails were hammered in from outside.”</p> - -<p>Tim’s heart thumped as thoughts of escape whirled -through his mind. Forgetting himself, he spoke with -excitement, “One of us could loosen a board while we were -fetching wood. A couple of blows with a decent sized log....”</p> - -<p>Bell turned around again, this time with his forefinger -pressed against his mouth. Then he sauntered to the center -of the room. “They’ll hear you, if you aren’t careful.”</p> - -<p>A guard put his head in the door. “The corporal says, -finish your chores,” he drawled. “He wants to take you -back inside.”</p> - -<p>Tim grinned foolishly at the guard, stood up and went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> -around to the Army kitchen. His hands shook as he lit the -lantern and scraped the stove.</p> - -<p>He signaled a sentry who was lighting the lamp that -hung in a bracket on the jailhouse wall. “Finished for -today,” he said.</p> - -<p>Addison’s room was on the first floor at the back of the -jail, and when the guard knocked the corporal’s keys began -to rattle. He opened the door. “’Bout time,” he said, -holding his lantern so it would light Tim’s face.</p> - -<p>As they moved along the first-floor corridor Addison -mumbled, “I’m going up too.”</p> - -<p>It was the custom of Senn or the guard on duty to check -the prisoners’ beds after the men came up from their mess. -Senn had decreed that they stay on their beds until he’d -finished counting them in.</p> - -<p>Tim went straight to his cell and climbed to his bunk.</p> - -<p>Red lay on the top bunk, across from Tim. He stirred -against the dingy wall. “Sure, that was a capital mush you -cooked tonight.”</p> - -<p>“Sit up,” Tim said. “I’ve got to talk to you.”</p> - -<p>“What is it, boy?”</p> - -<p>Tim slapped his thigh. “We have it,” he whispered. -“We have a route at last.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve marked it on the map?” asked Red.</p> - -<p>Addison’s keys jingled in the hall.</p> - -<p>“No, I’ll tell you later. Bull Head’s coming down the -hall.”</p> - -<p>Addison’s boots scuffed out of the adjoining cell and he -appeared in the doorway with his lantern held high. He -looked at Tim with something like a smile. “We meet -again,” he said.</p> - -<p>Dawson’s arm was dangling from his bunk. The man -was apparently asleep.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>Addison squinted at the bunk under Tim’s. “Is Lieutenant -Mills in that pile of straw?”</p> - -<p>Mill’s voice came from the corridor. “Sorry I’m not -on my bunk,” he said, “but I had duties at the end of the -hall.”</p> - -<p>“Now what duties ...” Addison began then stammered, -“Try not to let it happen again.” He moved past Mills and -along the hall.</p> - -<p>Red doubled up with glee. “Never again,” he said as -he rolled over and shook his bunk with silent laughter.</p> - -<p>Tim smiled to himself. “They say if you stay in jail too -long you go back to your childhood ways. We’ll have to -get you out of here.”</p> - -<p>When Addison had left the floor Tim and Red went to -the end of the corridor away from the common room and -stood by a window that overlooked the yard. The light -from a flickering lamp outside painted swift black ghosts -against the wall.</p> - -<p>Tim told Red about the window in the Navy kitchen -and the condition of the fence at the back of the woodshed. -“We can enter the kitchen when we’re in the yard and -crawl through the window while Devil and Bell kick up -a noise. Then we’ll wait in the woodshed till after dark.”</p> - -<p>“They’ll discover our absence when they check the beds, -and the hounds will be after us in no time at all.”</p> - -<p>“We might leave dummies in our beds.”</p> - -<p>Red looked through the bars at the dark blue sky. “If -Senn’s not on duty, dummies might work.”</p> - -<p>“Senn’s off duty all day Thursday. Let’s aim for Thursday -afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“That soon?”</p> - -<p>“Why not? I’m sick of waiting. That gives us long -enough to get ready.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>By Wednesday night it seemed to Tim that nothing -could go wrong. Yesterday afternoon Devil had loosened -the boards in the fence.</p> - -<p>Tim had watched and listened from the corridor window -when the wagon had come in. Aunty had cackled and -slapped her thighs. She had prodded Bell to laughter with -a set of faces that would have made a dying man laugh.</p> - -<p>There had been a bad moment when one of the guards, -not satisfied with watching from his usual distance, had -moved up to the woodshed door. “Don’t fetch wood now,” -he’d said. “Wait until the wagon leaves.”</p> - -<p>“Need wood now,” Devil had said, staggering through -the door with a teetering load. Then he’d tripped on the -sill and the wood had gone flying, one piece hitting the -guard on the shin, making him shout out a stream of oaths. -Devil had kicked the shed door shut before he got off -the ground. Tim hoped that no one passing through the -alley would notice the loosened board and report it to -Senn.</p> - -<p>Tim stood by the window in the common room. He -watched Red bending over his game of chess with Peter -Mills and marveled at his outward calm. A little fire -sputtered on the hearth and Dawson and Frazer were -reading by candlelight. Brown stood in the door, staring -into the fire and dreaming his private dreams. The air -outside was clear as crystal, and the lights twinkled yellow -in the neat white houses. A soldier and a girl passed under -a lamp at the corner of the park.</p> - -<p>Kate’s map had shown him the rail line running north -along the east bank of the Broad, sticking pretty close to the -river for a number of miles. That was their route, straight -up the Broad. God give them the nighttime to move -without pursuit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>Now the sound of music reached his ears. Tim had heard -it before. It was said that the people of Columbia held -great balls from time to time to raise money for the Armies -of the Confederacy.</p> - -<p>For a moment Tim forgot the meager rations in the jail, -the smells, the dirty clothes, the bedbugs that plagued -them at night, the eternal boredom that made the men -short of temper. He thought of the people he would miss. -There were Devil and Bell and Peter Mills.</p> - -<p>Tim’s thoughts went back to a late afternoon shortly -after the arrival of the officers captured in the second assault. -Someone had started to sing “The Star-Spangled -Banner,” others had joined the singer, and before a minute -had passed the whole second floor had rocked with the song. -The prisoners had pressed against the bars and shouted -across the town.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, caught by the sun, a white handkerchief had -fluttered from a window of the little white house across the -street. Then the owner of the handkerchief had appeared, -a happy-faced young woman who waved as if she could -never grow tired. Senn and Bull Head and another guard -had come up the stairs to spoil the fun. Senn didn’t want -singing or shouting in his jail. But from that time on the -young woman whose heart beat for the Union had been the -sweetheart of every Yankee in the jail.</p> - -<p>Tim thought again of the coming day. Two haversacks -and some other supplies were hidden in the Navy kitchen.</p> - -<p>Tim put his hand over his breast pocket to be sure that -his pictures were there. They had come in a shining black -book with the word <span class="allsmcap">ALBUM</span> stamped in gold on its spine. -The covers were sky blue inside, neatly patterned with -white stars. The pages were made of heavy pasteboard -covered with paper frames to hold the pictures. The -frames were arched at the top and lined around with gold.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>Kate’s picture was there with the ones of Mother and -Father and the twins. It was the only one that wasn’t stiff. -It was posed, of course, but somehow Kate’s natural poise -made it seem more alive. Her waist was slim and her -figure had filled out where it should be full. She was -more of a woman now. The photographer had put a -touch too much pink on the cheeks, but her face was the -same. Before the picture had come, her face had faded a -little from Tim’s mind. Now he could see her clear as -yesterday.</p> - -<p>She had cut out a little piece from the hem of the dress -she wore in the picture and had pasted it on the blank page -opposite her photograph. The material was golden brown—some -kind of silk he supposed it was.</p> - -<p>The fire flickered low. Tim heard the men stirring -behind him and felt a hand on his shoulder. “No sleep -tomorrow night,” Red said quietly. “We better get sleep -while we can.”</p> - -<p>Tim turned from the window. “We’ve rested for five -months now. We don’t need sleep. We need a beefsteak -dinner and a couple of greatcoats.”</p> - -<p>Dawson looked up from his book, quiet and inscrutable. -“Do you really mean to try to escape?”</p> - -<p>By now their secret was known to everyone on the second -floor. There had been the chance that someone would -notice their absence from the mess. Then, too, they would -need a little help along the way.</p> - -<p>Mill’s chess partner had left the room and Mills was -studying the board. He turned to Dawson. “Sure they’re -going,” he said. “Say, Dawson, do you play chess?”</p> - -<p>Dawson didn’t answer, and Mills stood up and followed -Red and Tim out the door and along the corridor. When -they were back in their room Mills said, “That man’s behavior -is downright unsettling.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>They lay down on their bunks, and after a while Dawson -came in and stretched out on his bunk, without taking off -his blouse. Soon he breathed steadily in a seesaw chorus -with Mills.</p> - -<p>Tim thought again about Kate’s map. She must have -searched her soul before she mailed it. That map, drawn -with such painstaking care, might show him the way to -his death. But she must have known he would never rest -until he’d tried to get away.</p> - -<p>Until now Kate had been waiting at the end of the -trail—warm and lovely but far away. All at once it seemed -she was very close, her faith and understanding sending -him on his way, making him impatient to be free, no -matter what hardships freedom might bring.</p> - -<p>Red stirred, and Tim whispered, “Red, you awake?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Wish Peter could go along.”</p> - -<p>“So do I.”</p> - -<p>“You got any worries?”</p> - -<p>“Not really. Good night, lad.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER THIRTEEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>After breakfast some of the prisoners gathered in the -common room.</p> - -<p>Red’s calm began to disappear. As soon as Addison left -the floor Red pulled a list from his side pocket. He and -Tim went over it one last time. Six quarts of corn, parched -and ground, were waiting in the Navy kitchen. Extra -woolen underclothes and socks, a paper of salt for each -of them, a piece of soap, some lucifer matches and tin -cups; these things were packed into the haversacks concealed -behind the boiler in the kitchen.</p> - -<p>“Toothbrushes, family photographs and such can go in -our pockets,” Tim said. “That just leaves blankets.”</p> - -<p>Red gave the paper one last look, then tore it up and -threw the scraps on the ashes from the night before, turning -them under with the toe of his boot.</p> - -<p>Mills asked, “When will you set the dummies up?”</p> - -<p>Red said, “It can’t be now, or two of us will be in our -stocking feet all day.”</p> - -<p>A man named Allen leaned against the wall by the -door. “I have an extra pair of boots,” he said. “They’re -no good for wearing but you’re welcome to them if they’ll -be of use.”</p> - -<p>Mill’s good blanket, his boots and an extra blouse<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -would be used to make the dummy on Tim’s bunk. There -was one spare blanket, ragged and full of holes. They -would tear it in two. Mills would cover himself with half -and they would use the other half for Red’s bunk, with -Allen’s boots and an extra pair of pants stuffed with dirty -clothes.</p> - -<p>Mills leaned against the chimney, his thin wrists and -long hands sticking out from his tattered blouse. His face -was pale but not so thin as it had been when Tim had first -seen him slump to the floor in this same room. His spirit -had mended somehow.</p> - -<p>Mills looked at Tim with a faint familiar humor in his -face. “I could never make a trip like that, you know.” He -measured the thickness of his thigh with his bony hands. -“I have nothing in reserve.”</p> - -<p>“You can make it in the spring,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>Mills gave no sign of having heard. “I’ll miss you boys.” -Dawson’s figure appeared in the doorway and he managed -a thin, one-sided smile. He looked toward Mills. -“You promised to teach me chess. Remember, Mills?”</p> - -<p>Mills perked up a little. “Why sure I will.”</p> - -<p>Red had a gold-plated watch. Until a week or so ago -he had lost the habit of winding it. Keeping track of time -had only made the hours drag. Now he kept it wound and -fussed if it was slow or fast. He set it by a watch that Devil -carried.</p> - -<p>He reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch and -twiddled with the chain. “I wish we had something to do. -Curse all our early preparations.”</p> - -<p>Frazer snickered. “Never dreamed I’d see Kelly in a -state like this.”</p> - -<p>Red looked at his watch and put it back again. “I just -remembered I’m to be on slop duty today. I never thought -I’d look forward to washing out those pails.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>Tim said, “Don’t get into trouble out there.”</p> - -<p>At ten o’clock Addison came up with three other guards. -He asked for a couple of extra men to go down to the yard -for wood. Tim almost leaped to his feet but he restrained -himself. “I’ll go, Corporal,” he said in what he hoped -would pass for a casual tone. “Do you want to come, Allen? -Do you feel like toting some wood?”</p> - -<p>At the midday meal Addison stood by the messroom -door. Tim tried to see the room through the eyes of a -guard. Two men might not be missed tonight. He took -a sip of water from his tin cup and bent low over his corncakes -and sorghum molasses.</p> - -<p>Mills was just behind Dawson as the column moved -upstairs. When they reached the landing Dawson leaned -toward Addison and said a few words. Addison mumbled -a reply.</p> - -<p>When Addison started back downstairs Tim averted his -eyes until he heard the clang of the lower door.</p> - -<p>When he looked up again Mills had grasped the front of -Dawson’s blouse. He swung the man around and knocked -him against the wall with a sickening sound. Mills had -always been a gentle man. This action took everyone by -surprise. The other men gaped while Mills slapped a hand -over Dawson’s mouth. “Why did you ask to see Senn?”</p> - -<p>Dawson’s eyes bugged out as they fixed on Mills.</p> - -<p>Mills signaled with his head for Tim and Red to move -in close, and dragged the man through the common-room -door. Dawson let out a little scream as Mill’s hand slipped -away from his mouth for a second. Mills shoved him into a -corner.</p> - -<p>Tim and Frazer moved with Red and Allen to the -center of the room. The others stood outside the door.</p> - -<p>Frazer brought out a knife that no one had ever known -he had—a wicked thing with a gleaming, pointed blade.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> -Dawson twitched like a headless chicken on a chopping -block.</p> - -<p>Mills held one hand behind Dawson’s neck and the other -firmly over his mouth. Red looked quietly down at Dawson -and shook his head sadly.</p> - -<p>Tim kneeled. Dawson’s breath came in violent gasps. -“Dawson,” Tim said, “Peter will take his hand away now -and you won’t cry out. Do you understand?”</p> - -<p>Dawson’s eyes lost their deathlike stare. He slumped. -Mills supported him almost gently now. Dawson nodded -and Mills took his hand away.</p> - -<p>Tim spoke softly. “Why did you want to speak to Senn?”</p> - -<p>Dawson gave a quick little sigh and stared down at the -splintering floor. The room was silent. Tim heard footsteps -in the hall downstairs.</p> - -<p>Dawson raised his head as if to speak, but Tim signaled -for quiet, and Dawson looked down like a feverish child.</p> - -<p>Addison’s voice came up the stairs. “What’s all that -knocking about up there?”</p> - -<p>Red called, “Indian wrestling. Want to come up and -try your hand?”</p> - -<p>Addison grunted and moved away.</p> - -<p>“Well, Dawson,” said Tim.</p> - -<p>Dawson’s voice came high and thin. “Mills heard me -wrong.”</p> - -<p>Mills took a fresh grip on Dawson’s blouse. “I heard you -clear,” he said. “You’ll get the knife if you don’t tell us -straight what was in your mind.”</p> - -<p>Dawson collapsed, his body shaken by shuddering, racking -sobs. Mills eased him to the floor, and Frazer struck -out with his hand and tore off one of Dawson’s shoulder -straps with its Captain’s bars outlined in threadbare, greenish -gold. “You’re not fit to carry a private’s slop,” he said.</p> - -<p>Dawson grasped at his shoulder as if he’d been stabbed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>Tim said, “All right now, Frazer. Let me talk to him.”</p> - -<p>Tim looked into Dawson’s eyes. “If you give me your -word you won’t tell anyone about our plan, now or any -other time, I promise not to leave this jail till every prisoner -has sworn that you’ll come to no harm.”</p> - -<p>Dawson said thinly, “Why should I strike a bargain with -you?”</p> - -<p>“I’m not bargaining,” Tim said evenly. “I’m giving you -a chance to save your skin.”</p> - -<p>Dawson lowered his eyes. His lower lip quivered and -he looked up at Tim, then down again. “You have my -word.”</p> - -<p>Mills and Tim got to their feet and left the room. The -others followed, leaving Dawson alone on the floor. Halfway -down the corridor Mills turned to Tim. “I better -watch Dawson from now until tomorrow morning.”</p> - -<p>The other men crowded around, and Frazer said, “I’ll -watch him too.”</p> - -<p>“One man is enough,” Mills said. “I’ll go back and talk -to him.”</p> - -<p>Tim’s hands trembled as he hacked the old blanket in -half with Frazer’s knife. That business with Dawson had -shaken him up.</p> - -<p>Senn had said that an extra hand could go to the kitchen -to do the wash and help with the chores. It seemed that -all they’d had to do was ask. Now it should be easy to -smuggle the blankets into the yard.</p> - -<p>Tim fetched the wooden laundry buckets. He and Red -stripped their bunks and folded their blankets, squashing -them into the bottoms of the buckets and covering them -with a scattering of dirty underclothes they had rounded -up from the men along the corridor.</p> - -<p>At four o’clock Addison and another guard trudged up -the stairs. Red took one bucket and Allen the other. Tim<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> -looked over the room for the last time. A few deft motions -of Mills’s skillful hands and the blankets and boots and -scraps of clothing would convince the unsuspecting Addison.</p> - -<p>For the hundredth time Tim slapped the pocket where -he kept Kate’s map, and heard the reassuring crinkle. At -the end of the corridor Peter Mills stood close to Dawson.</p> - -<p>When Addison saw the buckets he ordered the men to -halt. “You can’t do your washing now,” he said.</p> - -<p>Red said, “The stuff’s dirty. We want it to soak.”</p> - -<p>“Soak it up here.”</p> - -<p>Tim broke in. “Captain Senn gave us permission to -take it to the yard.”</p> - -<p>“Well, bring it along,” Addison mumbled.</p> - -<p>Devil lounged in the Navy kitchen door, picking his -teeth with a splinter of wood. Allen and Red set the -buckets by the door.</p> - -<p>As they started their walk Tim studied the guards. Except -for the tall young private, they certainly were a sorry -lot.</p> - -<p>Mills and Dawson stood with a knot of men watching a -game of dice the prisoners had started near the cookhouse -wall.</p> - -<p>It seemed to Tim that familiar things weren’t familiar -any more. The barred windows in the jailhouse wall, the -lamp, the sentries with their guns and glistening bayonets, -the color of the earth, the skeletal branches of the spindly -trees that rose above the cookhouse roof, seemed like -things in a distant dream.</p> - -<p>At last Devil stopped them with a wave of the hand. -“Stop your walking now,” he said, “and watch the game.”</p> - -<p>One of the players took out his watch, looked at it and -put it away again. He spat on the dice and threw them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> -once more, then gathered them up. “Well, that’s it,” he -said in mock disgust.</p> - -<p>Red lowered himself to the doorsill and swung into the -Navy kitchen. Allen handed the buckets to Devil, who -handed them to Bell with a bow and flourish.</p> - -<p>A guard shouted, “Break up that game.”</p> - -<p>Allen started a good-natured scuffle with Frazer, who -was stupidly facing the kitchen door.</p> - -<p>Tim dropped behind the screen of men and scrambled -into the kitchen, cracking his shin against the sill.</p> - -<p>Red was already out of sight. Tim lost no time in rounding -the boiler and kneeling with Red behind a stack of -wood which was topped by towels and rags that hung from -the line. Devil had built up the woodpile high and solid -so that the men would have a place to hide.</p> - -<p>Tim tried to look out between the towels but Bell had -hung them so that they overlapped.</p> - -<p>Bell’s hand came around the boiler, and one blanket -and then another tumbled over Tim’s head. He drew -them away, smiling in spite of himself, and shoved one -toward Red.</p> - -<p>Bell whispered, “Bull Head’s in the courtyard now.”</p> - -<p>Tim thought about the dummies. He hoped that Addison’s -eyes were as dull as they looked.</p> - -<p>Now Devil’s voice came deep and quiet. “Don’t worry. -Bull Head’s gone inside again. You have nothing to fear -from that thickheaded lout.”</p> - -<p>Bell said, “The wagon came at half past three. Aunty -left some things for you. We put them in the packs.”</p> - -<p>At four thirty Addison sounded off again. “Time to go -back inside.”</p> - -<p>Tim could hear the shuffling of the prisoners’ feet and -their mumbled talk. He heard the slam of the jailhouse<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> -door. Then he heard a most unwelcome sound. Senn’s -voice came loud and clear from somewhere in the yard. -The guard was changing, and Senn was giving his sentries -instructions. Tim glanced at Red’s face, dimly lit behind -the towels and rags. Red whispered disgustedly, “The man -has no business here.”</p> - -<p>“No talk,” rumbled Devil. “Senn will leave soon. -There. He’s starting for the jailhouse now.”</p> - -<p>Tim heard Senn’s footsteps passing close. His boots -scraped the earth by the jailhouse. The door creaked open, -then clanged shut.</p> - -<p>Devil went about his work. He clanked the pots and -dropped firewood and sang Navy ditties, as he always did.</p> - -<p>Bell was watching at the door, and after what seemed an -eternity he turned back into the room. “Nothing to worry -about in the yard. The guards are as usual. It’s getting -dark.”</p> - -<p>Tim wondered what was happening in the jail.</p> - -<p>When Devil and Bell had finished their work they hailed -a guard to take them to the Navy mess. The guard came -into the shack and offered to help.</p> - -<p>“Well, sure you can help,” said Devil hastily. “Here, -Bell, grab one handle of the tub of mush and let the guard -help on the other side.”</p> - -<p>Tim heard a scraping of feet as the men left the kitchen -and he heard Devil whisper, “You boys hold tight!”</p> - -<p>Tim and Red sat quiet. They had no way of knowing -whether a guard was near. Tim could hear someone working -in the Army kitchen. He couldn’t remember who was -cooking tonight.</p> - -<p>Devil and Bell came back to the kitchen, Devil talking -all the way so that the hidden men would know who they -were.</p> - -<p>Tim began to feel cramped. His legs ached and he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -wished he could shift his position a little, but he was -afraid he might bring down the pile of wood.</p> - -<p>Devil said, “It’s dark enough for you to go right now, -but Senn is still in there, prowling about.”</p> - -<p>A few minutes later Bell said, “We’ll have to go back -inside right soon, I’m afraid, and there’ll be no noise to -cover your passage through the window and the shed. Let -us know when you want to take the risk.”</p> - -<p>Devil finished his work and he and Bell sat around, -talking as naturally as they could.</p> - -<p>Tim heard someone open the door to the yard, and -Senn’s voice came again.</p> - -<p>“Looks as if the game is up,” whispered Bell.</p> - -<p>“Good evening, gentlemen,” said Senn. “How is it -you’re still here?”</p> - -<p>Devil said, “We were talking about old times and such.”</p> - -<p>Addison’s voice sounded just outside. “Shall I take them -up?”</p> - -<p>Senn stepped inside. “Not just yet.”</p> - -<p>The rickety floor creaked and bent. Senn kicked lightly -at the pile of wood. “Why in the name of common sense -do you keep that much wood in here?”</p> - -<p>Devil gave a hollow laugh. “I like to have a lot on hand. -Saves us going to the shed over and over again and bothering -the guards and that. Say, Captain Senn,” he said getting -to his feet, making the floor rock still more, “did my -money ever come from home?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Senn cleared his throat. “That wood should be -taken back first thing tomorrow. You’ll set this place on -fire.”</p> - -<p>Through a chink in the pile of logs Tim saw something -move. It was one of Senn’s boots. Tim stared at the polished -toe as if it were the head of a rattlesnake. Then he -saw it move again. Senn was going toward the door. “Corporal,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> -now you can take them up. Boys, don’t forget that -wood.”</p> - -<p>As he stepped on the sill the floor boards groaned and a -piece of wood tumbled off the top of the stack.</p> - -<p>“See what I mean?” said Senn. “That’s too much wood.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER FOURTEEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>“Come now, boys,” Addison said.</p> - -<p>Tim heard one of the sailors raising the lantern glass -and blowing out the flame. Now the kitchen was dark. -The sailors left.</p> - -<p>The Army cook was ordered into the yard and Addison -summoned another guard to go with him when he took the -cooks back to their quarters.</p> - -<p>It was customary for at least two guards to pace the -courtyard all night long. The guard changed at nine in -the evening and again at one and five. They usually hung -a lantern by the wagon gate and one from the corner of -the woodshed roof. There was also the lamp on the wall by -the jailhouse door.</p> - -<p>Now in the silence Tim could hear the settling of the -stove as it cooled. Red shifted his weight and the floor -creaked. There was no sound from the courtyard.</p> - -<p>Tim’s knees began to hurt where they pressed against -the wooden floor. He twisted his shoulders to relieve the -numbness in his arms. He felt for his haversack and ran -his fingers over its bulging sides. He turned to Red and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> -whispered softly, “I hope the packs will go through the -window.”</p> - -<p>Red whispered back, “I just hope we’ll fit through.”</p> - -<p>Then, like a pistol cocking and firing, the jailhouse door -opened and slammed. Footsteps crossed the yard, and Senn -spoke to one of the guards. “Let me out the wagon gate -and mind you fasten it well behind.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p>When Senn had gone one of the guards said, “The old -boy’s a worrier, sure enough.”</p> - -<p>During the past few days Tim and Red had observed -from their cell as the guards stood evening watch. When -Addison and Senn had left, the guards usually stood together -and talked by the wagon gate, or sometimes—if they -thought they weren’t being watched—they played a game -of cards.</p> - -<p>Now that Senn had gone the guards would probably be -slack in performing their duties. But if they stayed close -by, it would be much worse than if they paced the yard. -Tim wondered if the chance to escape might not be lost. -If only they had been able to get through the window -while Devil was kicking up noise.</p> - -<p>Now one of the guards was walking around the yard. -He stopped not far from the cookshack and talked to the -other, who must be near the woodshed door. “Does that -fatheaded corporal watch the yard?”</p> - -<p>“He sleeps between the change of guard.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s play cards by the wagon gate.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a sight warmer right here.”</p> - -<p>“We’d better stay by the gate in case the captain comes -back that way. He wants a guard by the gate right through -the night.”</p> - -<p>Their footsteps sounded again as they walked to the gate.</p> - -<p>Tim’s eyes were accustomed to the dark and he could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -see the shape of Red waiting patiently beside him. A slight -yellow light behind the towels must be filtering in from -the lamp by the jailhouse door.</p> - -<p>Red whispered, “There may not be a better time than -this. Let’s go.”</p> - -<p>Tim stood up slowly, listening for a sound in the yard. -He faced the window and put both hands on the bricks -at the bottom of the opening. The frame had been so -loose that Devil had taken it out and set it in the corner -beside the stove. Red straightened up and stood beside -Tim, ready to help him if he could.</p> - -<p>Tim drew his elbows in to his sides so that he could -wiggle through the narrow space. He pulled himself off -the floor, and as he did so a brick came away and went -tumbling and crashing to the floor.</p> - -<p>Both men ducked. Tim could feel the thumping of -his heart as he listened for the guards.</p> - -<p>One of them said, “What was that?”</p> - -<p>“There’s nobody in the yard but us. Must be outside.”</p> - -<p>“We better look around.”</p> - -<p>Footsteps sounded close and the woodshed door creaked. -“Nothing here.”</p> - -<p>Lanternlight flashed in the door of the Navy kitchen. -Tim could hear the hissing of the dying embers in the -stove. A voice sounded loud. “No sign of anyone in here. -Must have been outside.”</p> - -<p>The guards looked into the Army kitchen and went back -to the wagon gate.</p> - -<p>Tim felt again and found that the wall was rotten all -around the window. The mortar had dried and crumbled. -One by one he loosened the bricks and handed them to -Red, who set them in a pile on the floor. He hoped Devil -could put them back, or at least conceal the work so that -other prisoners could use this route at a later time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>By the time Tim reached firm brick there was a gaping, -ragged hole in the wall. Tim tried again, this time with a -boost from Red. He scrambled up and perched in the -opening. All he could see was the light of a lantern burning -slits of yellow through the cracks in the boards of the -shed wall.</p> - -<p>One of the guards said, “You wouldn’t try to cheat on -me?”</p> - -<p>The other guard laughed. “Cheat you? Hell, Randy, -you know I’m not a cheatin’ man.”</p> - -<p>Tim scrambled across and stepped blindly onto the pile -of wood. There was a rumble as the pieces settled but his -foot held firm. He waited again, listening.</p> - -<p>The guards kept chattering about their game, and Tim -felt around with his other foot. He looked back through -the opening. Red’s face was white and still, then it disappeared -and appeared again. He handed the blankets -through, then the packs. Tim reached for them one at a -time and threw them gently so they came to rest by the -missing board. Then Red came through. He was bigger -around than Tim, and somehow his blouse got caught on -the edge of the ragged opening. He tried to move forward -but the brass buttons on the front of his blouse were caught -fast.</p> - -<p>Tim grasped Red’s shoulders and felt a kind of rhythmic -pulsing motion. Red was shaking with uncontrollable -mirth. “You madman,” Tim whispered in Red’s ear. -“You’ll give the show away.”</p> - -<p>Tim kept his hands on Red’s shoulders until the shaking -stopped. Red wriggled free and eased himself to the pile -of wood.</p> - -<p>Tim felt for the fence. His hand ran swiftly across the -boards, but they all seemed firm. He gave the middle one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> -a smack with the flat of his hand, and it hinged outward -with a sudden creak.</p> - -<p>A guard said, “Someone’s stirring in the alley yonder. -Maybe we should take a look.”</p> - -<p>“You’re as bad as Captain Senn. What happens outside -is none of our worry. What’s got into you tonight?” -There was a mumbled answer.</p> - -<p>Tim worked himself around and stuck his head out into -the alley. He looked along the jailhouse wall toward the -front of the jail. A feeble light from one of the windows -struck the worn cobbles and dry grass. There was no one -in sight.</p> - -<p>Slowly he worked his way around and looked the other -way, not daring to pry the board up farther. A row of -houses faced the back of the jail, lamplight showing in -some of their windows. No one was in the street at the -back, as far as Tim could tell. He pried the board upward, -crawled into the alley, and reached back for the blankets -and haversacks. Then he held the board up so that Red -could come through.</p> - -<p>For a moment both men crouched in the alley beside -the fence. Then they slipped their haversacks over their -shoulders and folded their blankets over their arms. Tim -grabbed the end of the board, and ever so slowly put it -back, setting the points of the nails in the holes and shoving -them in as best he could.</p> - -<p>The two men straightened up at last. Tim could feel -the blood working into the numbness of his legs and arms.</p> - -<p>The night was chilly but the air was clear.</p> - -<p>They headed toward the back of the jailyard, going -quietly so that they could pass the card players without -being heard.</p> - -<p>When they reached the corner of the fence Tim looked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -cautiously south, then north. He gave a sign that the street -was clear and crossed with Red at his side. The railroad -ran a block or so east, just beyond the gardens at the back -of the houses that faced the jail.</p> - -<p>The men dodged into an alley between two of the houses -and found their path blocked by a shaft of lamplight coming -from the first-floor window of the house on their right. -The light marked a yellow rectangle on the clapboard wall -of the other house. Tim was about to duck the window -and move into the garden at the back when a dog started -barking behind the house.</p> - -<p>They waited quietly against the wall until the barking -stopped, then retraced their steps. The street was still -deserted, so they walked north at a moderate pace, turning -to the left at the end of the block, rounding the corner of -a darkened house and heading for the railroad track. The -dog started barking again, and their impatience got the -better of them. They ran along the side street, scrambled -across the track and down the embankment and headed -north.</p> - -<p>The track passed through a thinly settled part of town, -and as they moved Tim felt a sudden exhilaration. Now -it seemed unlikely that they would be seen before they had -gained the shelter of the woods.</p> - -<p>The stars gleamed bright between moving clouds.</p> - -<p>Now the embankment had disappeared and the ties lay -on the ground, not sunken as they sometimes were. The -men walked beside the rails, through a grove of trees, and—without -the slightest warning—came on a tumble-down -shack.</p> - -<p>A good-sized dog was chained to a tree close by the shack -and he barked and growled as if the devil was clawing at -his throat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span></p> -<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_121"> -<img class="w100" src="images/i_121.jpg" alt="South Carolina Railroads, 1863"> -<figcaption class="caption"> - -<p class="caption"><span class="large">South Carolina Railroads, 1863</span></p></figcaption> -</figure> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>Tim and Red moved right along, but the door of the -shack swung wide and a man stood, big and silent, silhouetted -in the light. Tim stopped and raised his hand. -“Good evening,” he said. “Sorry to pass so close.”</p> - -<p>The man didn’t answer and Tim turned to go. A voice -boomed out above the snarling of the dog. “Come here, -Yankees.”</p> - -<p>They turned and faced the door. Tim hesitated, then -moved toward the light. The fellow was a Negro. His skin -was dark as ebony. He looked as if he could break a -man in two with a flick of his wrist. He half turned toward -the menacing dog. “Hush,” he rasped. Then he cocked -his head. “I see I was right.”</p> - -<p>Tim looked straight at the man but didn’t speak.</p> - -<p>Now the colored man rumbled, “I should turn you back. -But I don’t care a damn for this War.” He lowered his -head like an angry bull. “I don’t trust any man, white or -black. Get out.”</p> - -<p>Tim started to speak, but the big man moved his hand -through the air in front of his eyes as if he were pushing -aside a rock. He raised his voice. “Get out!”</p> - -<p>As they moved away Tim shivered. His spirits sank. -The encounter had seemed an ill omen.</p> - -<p>Off to the left the river glistened in the starlight. As -they walked beside the track they crossed a highway at the -edge of town and finally gained the shelter of the woods.</p> - -<p>Now the river ran close to the track and they could hear -the sound of water against the rocks. As their eyes grew -accustomed to the starlight they saw dashes of white where -the river flowed by little islands and around the rocks.</p> - -<p>They passed through thickets of dark undergrowth and -crossed little streams that trickled and bubbled on the way -to the river’s edge. The air seemed incredibly clear and -the landscape fresh and sweet. They mounted a hill and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> -stood for a moment at the top, looking back. The lights -of the city winked in the distance, but there was no sign of -pursuit.</p> - -<p>They rolled their blankets and tied them around the -tops of their haversacks. As they turned to go forward -again the sound of a church bell came to their ears—a -sound they had heard through the silent, sultry nights of -summer, the cool nights of fall. It carried with it the -memory of months of imprisonment.</p> - -<p>Tim drew in his breath, and Red spun around and led -the way down the hill as if his house was in view, his wife -and son waiting in the doorway.</p> - -<p>They walked on level ground beside the track for an -hour or so, then down a gentle slope. At a point where the -river cut close to the track the ground grew soft, and they -stepped across the rails and walked from tie to tie. The -ties were spaced so that walking was difficult, and they -were thinking of trying the ground again when they found -themselves on a rickety trestle that shook as they walked.</p> - -<p>Red went more slowly now. He stumbled and caught -himself. “Watch that one, it’s rotten,” he said in an unsteady -voice.</p> - -<p>“Take it slow. This trestle can’t be long. There’s no -sound of water. There’s nothing but swamp down there.”</p> - -<p>“We can thank our stars the trains are few and far between.”</p> - -<p>Ahead of them the track disappeared into the gloom. -The trestle stretched on and on, and they walked until they -lost all sense of time. Red stopped from time to time to -test a tie that he imagined might be weaker than the rest. -It was clear he didn’t like the work.</p> - -<p>Once he tried to look at his watch, but he couldn’t see -the hands and the matches were in one of the haversacks.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -They must have broken out of jail at six thirty or seven. -Tim couldn’t imagine what time it might be now. It -seemed they had walked this trestle since the dawn of -creation.</p> - -<p>Tim noticed the signs of exhaustion in himself. He felt -inclined to stagger, and he knew he might fall headlong -into the gulf below. “Stop a moment,” he said. “Let’s -rest.”</p> - -<p>Red’s shoulders slumped. He turned slowly and sat on -one of the rails, with one boot on a tie and the other dangling. -“How soft we are.”</p> - -<p>“Walking these ties would tire a coolie.”</p> - -<p>Tim ached in every joint and muscle. He wanted to -stretch out on a tie and go to sleep. “We’d better move on -soon,” he said. “We have to find cover by dawn.”</p> - -<p>Red laughed dryly. “It all seemed such a lark when we -sat in the jail and made the plans.”</p> - -<p>Tim stood up and edged around to take the lead. He -tried the next tie with his foot, and they moved on again, -stepping as before, each time with an awkward little hop.</p> - -<p>They hadn’t gone five hundred feet when the trestle -ended and the track reached firm ground again. They -moved into another wood, jogged down a slope and jumped -across a rushing stream. They traveled through the night, -moving from lowland to higher ground and back to lowland -again, crossing half-a-dozen trestles shorter than the -first.</p> - -<p>They stopped just short of another wood and faced each -other and realized that now there was light.</p> - -<p>Red swayed, his back to the rosy glow in the eastern sky. -His face was haggard, his eyes were sunken. He blinked -and shook his head and turned to look back.</p> - -<p>Tim grinned. “There’s one thing certain. No hound -in heaven or hell could follow that route.” They left the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> -track and struggled up a heavily wooded hill looking for a -likely bivouac.</p> - -<p>“We’re still too near the track,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>Finally they saw an upturned oak. Its roots formed a -sheltered niche shielded on one side by a little pine. They -took off their haversacks and opened them. They saw at -once that Devil had outdone himself. On top of Red’s -pack was a folded poncho, thin and patched but good to -sleep on, nevertheless. Red spread it out. “No wonder I’m -tired,” he said. “I was carrying a heavier load than you.”</p> - -<p>Tim found a dozen hard-boiled eggs, a small flask of -brandy and a good-sized canteen. “It seems I was carrying -an extra load too.”</p> - -<p>Red flicked the canteen with his finger. It made a hollow -sound. “This thing is empty. The poncho weighs -more than the canteen, the brandy and the eggs combined,” -he said. “Let’s eat an egg. I wonder if they’re -stuffed with caviar.”</p> - -<p>Tim finished off his egg and together they studied the -map. It showed the rail lines leading away from Columbia. -The trestles weren’t shown, and the route of the previous -night was marked as an innocent curve. Considering the -quality of Kate’s work, the map she had copied must have -been less than complete.</p> - -<p>At a town named Alston the railroad would fork, the -northern branch ending at Spartanburg.</p> - -<p>“I hope we’re close to Alston now,” said Red, “but I -doubt that we’ve covered twenty miles.”</p> - -<p>“I doubt it too.”</p> - -<p>They spread out their blankets.</p> - -<p>Red settled down and Tim put away the remaining eggs. -“We owe Devil a vote of thanks.”</p> - -<p>“Unless we’re lucky, we can thank him in person.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER FIFTEEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>The sun shone through the trees. Tim was chilled to -the bone. He wished he had an overcoat.</p> - -<p>Red gave no sign of waking. Tim thought, Today is -Friday. He unbuttoned his blouse and pulled out a little -black book marked <span class="allsmcap">DIARY</span> 1863. It was closed with a tab -that slipped through a loop. He pulled out the tab and -riffled through the pages. The first half of the book was -filled with entries, but the period of imprisonment was -almost blank. On some of the pages he had penciled “Letter -from Kate” or “News of home,” but he’d long since -neglected the daily entries. It had made him unhappy to -count the endless chain of wasted days.</p> - -<p>He found the page and the date, Friday, December 11, -and he took out his pencil and wrote:</p> - -<p>“First day of freedom since last July. How long will it -last?” He flicked through the pages ahead and came across -Friday, December 25. He thought, with a smile, just three -more weeks to buy a present for Kate.</p> - -<p>Tim heard a crackling of twigs and a rustling of leaves -behind the trees at a little distance. He lay perfectly still.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> -At first there was no sound, then the crackling resumed, a -little nearer. It seemed as though someone, knowing they -were there, was approaching with caution.</p> - -<p>Tim shook Red’s shoulder gently. Red turned, sighed -sleepily and opened one eye. Tim pressed his finger to his -lips, and Red jerked his head off the ground and listened. -Again there was no sound. Then the crackling came again, -this time slightly farther off.</p> - -<p>Red’s eyes had a haunted look, as if he were dreaming a -very bad dream. He whispered, “I can’t go back to jail -again. Let’s make a run for it.”</p> - -<p>Tim shook his head. They lay still for what must have -been a quarter of an hour.</p> - -<p>Tim pointed out a gray-clad soldier behind some undergrowth, -but as they looked the soldier seemed to dissolve. -“We’re having hallucinations,” he said. “The noise I -heard could have been any one of a thousand things.”</p> - -<p>They folded their blankets and rolled them.</p> - -<p>Tim set about repacking his haversack. He picked it up, -pulled out his extra underclothes and socks and turned -the pack upside down. A bright little object fell to the -ground and Tim leaned over and picked it up. “Devil put -in a compass,” he said.</p> - -<p>“The man’s been good to us.” Red took a deep breath. -“Let’s take a chance and move by day, at least till we see -some signs of life.”</p> - -<p>There was no water, so they took their cornmeal dry. -Tim ran his tongue around his teeth. “My mother used to -call this stuff ‘rokeeg.’ I remember we didn’t like it much.”</p> - -<p>“Tastes change.”</p> - -<p>They moved briskly through the woods.</p> - -<p>They came to a stream and knelt to drink. Tim filled -the empty canteen. They moved on, crossing streams and -small swamps and skirting a couple of little farms.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>About noon they came to a cultivated field with some -cornstalks still standing around the edges. They found -five ears and kept them for cooking when they found a -chance to build a fire.</p> - -<p>They walked along the edge of the field until they saw -a house, then moved to the shelter of a thinly wooded -plain.</p> - -<p>They had to go slowly so that they wouldn’t be seen. -By now Captain Senn would have spread the alarm.</p> - -<p>Tim noticed that Red walked with spirit again. Rest -and food had made the difference.</p> - -<p>Shortly after noon they reached another stretch of open -land. They faced a field of tall grass.</p> - -<p>At a distance of half a mile or so, against a forest of dark -pines, stood the white frame houses of a little town. Tim -hooked his thumbs over his belt. “Unless we make a wide -circuit we can’t get through here at this time of day. There -must be farms all around the town.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s settle down a while.”</p> - -<p>They studied the town. A rider moved across the field at -quite a distance, his figure showing above the tips of the -grass. They heard the barking of distant dogs. Tim said, -“I’m thinking we better travel at night till we get to North -Carolina.”</p> - -<p>Off to the right, with the trees at its back, was a pile of -wood, probably left there years before when the land had -been cleared. The men took off their haversacks and settled -in the grass, leaning against the stack of wood. Mud -wasps had made their home in one of the logs and they -circled overhead.</p> - -<p>Red looked at his watch. “Three thirty.” He wound the -watch and put it into his pocket again, his chin dropped -to his chest and he slept. Tim tried to sleep but found he -couldn’t, so he looked at the sky and consoled himself with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> -the thought that one of them should act as a sentry, anyway.</p> - -<p>He was reminded of the summer before he had joined -the Army when he’d worked at Quigley’s farm. He remembered -clearing the north pasture, hauling off stones -on the old stone boat and shouting to the shaggy-hoofed -horses as they reached the wall at the edge of the wood lot.</p> - -<p>When he said good-bye to Mr. Quigley the old man had -shown a streak of sentiment that Tim had never known -he had. “You’ve been a good worker,” he’d said. “I’ll -miss you like the mischief, but I know you’ll do your -country proud.”</p> - -<p>Tim watched a pair of crows settle in the field close by. -They set up a terrible squawking, probably over a bit of -corn or a dead field mouse.</p> - -<p>He turned his hands palms up and laced his fingers together. -He made a church steeple with his forefingers, as -his father had taught him to do when he was a boy. He -remembered the poem that went with the action of his -hands:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Here is the church</div> -<div class="verse">And here is the steeple.</div> -<div class="verse">Open the doors</div> -<div class="verse">And see all the people.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>The squawking and jabbering of the crows grew dim in -his ears. The shadow of the woodpile wove a pattern in the -trees.</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>Tim’s head snapped up. He must have been sleeping -for several hours. The sky was quite dark. He was sure he -had been wakened by a noise, but now he couldn’t hear a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> -sound. Red was very still, but Tim noticed that his eyes -were wide open. Tim looked to see what had caught Red’s -eye. Not more than fifty feet from them a man sat, rigid -as stone, on a good-sized horse. He appeared to be a farmer -and he carried a musket across his saddle.</p> - -<p>Red’s arm was resting by his side. Tim stealthily gripped -his wrist to let him know he was awake and wouldn’t make -a noise. The horseman scanned the field; the horse dipped -his head and jingled his bridle. The man kicked the -horse’s flank and rode away, keeping close to the edge of -the field, looking both ways, as if he were on a tour of -inspection.</p> - -<p>Tim watched as he disappeared, and Red said, “That -was a very close call.”</p> - -<p>“Do you suppose he was looking for us?”</p> - -<p>“Lord knows.”</p> - -<p>They gathered up their packs and walked west toward -the railroad. The lights of the town were squares of yellow -among the trees. The track ran toward the edge of town, -and they decided they would follow it until they were close -to the houses, then cut into the woods to avoid the town. -If this was Alston, they would cross the west branch of the -railroad soon.</p> - -<p>Shortly after they left the track they faced a bog and -saw what appeared to be a tremendous fire flickering behind -a thin screen of trees. They edged toward the light. -Now they heard voices raised above the sound of the blaze. -They watched for a moment. Tim said, “Appears to be a -tar kiln or a coalpit of some kind.”</p> - -<p>“Whatever it is, it’s no place for us.”</p> - -<p>They cut deeper into the woods at the left, going close -to the river to make a circuit of the kiln. Every step on -the dead-dry forest floor sounded like a pistol shot to their -uneasy ears.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>They lived a nightmare of lost direction and doubt and -phantom houses loomed suddenly in their path. They -were afraid to light a match, and they couldn’t read the -compass in the dark. They stumbled over jagged rock and -fallen trees and came to a swiftly running stream that cut -across their path. They tried to find a place to cross where -they could stay dry, but there was no such place and they -waded in, stepping as best they could from stone to stone. -Tim’s right foot slipped in the deepest part and his leg -went in, wetting his trousers to the knee.</p> - -<p>By the time they gained the other side their boots were -filled with chilly water. They emptied them and stood on -the other side, numbness creeping up their legs.</p> - -<p>Tim had moved the matches to a trousers pocket. He -drew them out. “Let’s chance a look at the compass.” He -held the little instrument close to his chest, and the glow -of the match showed the needle dancing back and forth. -“I wonder if it works at all.”</p> - -<p>“It’s against a button on your blouse.”</p> - -<p>“So it is.”</p> - -<p>Tim held the compass away from himself and the needle -settled down.</p> - -<p>By now they must have passed the town. They decided -to head straight north.</p> - -<p>They crossed the west branch of the railroad and found -the track that would take them closest to the North -Carolina line.</p> - -<p>Tim struck another match and they looked at the map. -There were very few towns along their route between -Alston and a place called Unionville forty miles or so to -the north.</p> - -<p>They walked along the track for two or three miles, and -as the land began to rise Tim said, “Let’s take a chance -and roast a couple of ears of corn.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>Their fire kindled well. Red gazed into the flames. “At -least we aren’t in jail.”</p> - -<p>“The people in the country we have to cross must all -know about us by now. And most of them are hunters. -They’d just as soon track a man as a coon.”</p> - -<p>They took off their boots and rested their feet on a dry -log. They held the boots near the fire as they waited for -the flames to flicker low.</p> - -<p>Tim looked at the compass and studied the map.</p> - -<p>They talked for a while, looking into the fire, and when -the flames had died they put the corn in the embers.</p> - -<p>When the corn was roasted Red kicked aside the embers -and picked out the ears. They shucked them, working fast -so as not to be burned. The kernels were orange gold and -charred in places. Red said, “What a feast.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll find some more along the -way. There was nothing like this in jail.”</p> - -<p>Red held his watch to the glow of the fire. “It’s quarter -to eleven. Let’s push on.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER SIXTEEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>They spent their fourth morning in shelter from the -rain. They had circled farms, forded dozens of streams. -More than once they had ducked off country roads to avoid -teams of oxen and country wagons, but as far as they knew -they hadn’t been seen.</p> - -<p>The rain had started an hour ago. Now it was coming -down in torrents, swelling the streams and turning the -rivers to turbid floods.</p> - -<p>They had found a sheltered place at the edge of a deep -ravine. They had bent four closely grouped saplings, -tying the top of each to the base of another and covering -them with the poncho Devil had given them. They had -made a mush of rokeeg and water and eaten the stuff. It -was tasteless now.</p> - -<p>They had stretched their blankets on logs laid side by -side, and Red was so tired that he slept like a baby on this -bed that was something akin to a corduroy road.</p> - -<p>The rain beat against the poncho and dripped through -leaks, soaking Tim’s blanket and wetting his clothes.</p> - -<p>He didn’t want to look at Kate’s map in the rain. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -paper was thin and he was afraid if it got wet it might come -apart. They were just east of the railroad line. He hoped -they were close to Unionville.</p> - -<p>They hadn’t traveled as fast as they had hoped they -would, but if they could keep moving they might reach -North Carolina in two or three days. They had thought -about hopping a freight as one went by, but the risk was -too great and they couldn’t ride the railroad very far. It -ended at Spartanburg.</p> - -<p>Tim looked across the ravine through a curtain of rain. -Their prospects couldn’t seem worse. They had eaten the -last two eggs and roasted and divided the last ear of corn. -The rokeeg wouldn’t last long.</p> - -<p>They couldn’t hope to find friends until they had crossed -the state line, and even then they couldn’t tell a Unionist -by the cut of his clothes. North Carolina might not be the -promised land. They would have to travel a hundred and -thirty or forty miles, crossing the Great Smokies before -they would see a Yankee uniform.</p> - -<p>Tim slept until noon and when he woke the rain had -stopped and the leaden clouds were blowing away, leaving -patches of clear blue sky.</p> - -<p>Tim touched Red’s shoulder, and Red opened his eyes. -He stared at the poncho above his head. His face showed -no emotion. He was silent for a minute before he spoke. -“Well, we bargained for this. We knew we had no more -than a fifty-fifty chance.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s push on.”</p> - -<p>They walked north northwest for an hour or so on a -narrow, overgrown road. They saw a house, then cut to -the right and into a thicket where they stumbled and -kicked through the thorny undergrowth and hopped over -winding freshets that had come with the rain. When they -broke clear at last their hands were bleeding and their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -clothes were torn, but they had left the house a mile behind. -Tim saw a little stream that hadn’t been muddied -by the rain.</p> - -<p>They stood for a moment and looked around. There -was no sign of life as far as Tim could see. “Let’s take a -bath,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Are you out of your mind, lad? It’s chilly as the devil -this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“I’d like a change.”</p> - -<p>“Why don’t we go into town and have ourselves fitted -for new uniforms? Why do the job halfway?”</p> - -<p>Tim smiled. “At least we can wash our feet and change -to dry socks.”</p> - -<p>They took out clean socks and left their haversacks at -the foot of a tree. At the edge of the stream they sat on a -huge flat rock and washed their feet, then sat still for a -while until their feet were dry.</p> - -<p>They put on the clean socks, tied the wet ones to the -flaps of their haversacks and started walking again.</p> - -<p>They soon found a rutted wagon road that looked as if -it were seldom used. They were fit for travel again, but the -open land and the lack of cover along the sides of the road -made Tim wonder if they should go on in the light of day.</p> - -<p>Here they walked side by side. For the first time the -ground grew stiff with frost.</p> - -<p>A railroad whistle broke the silence.</p> - -<p>In three or four minutes they heard the engine, faintly -at first. The whistle sounded again, and they saw a freight -train on high ground half a mile west, chugging and rocking -toward the north, leaving a trail of smoke behind.</p> - -<p>“That’s the way to travel,” Red said.</p> - -<p>They watched the smoke until it disappeared, and when -they turned there was a herd of cows ahead of them, lumbering -across the road. Tim was about to look for cover<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -when he noticed a boy of six or seven in the middle of the -herd. He stared at the fugitives, openmouthed.</p> - -<p>The cows kept moving across the road but the lad stood -still until the last of the cows had passed. Then, finding -himself alone in the road, still facing the men in tattered -blue, he wheeled and ran.</p> - -<p>To their right the land rose gently. It offered little -cover. It would be folly to retreat along the road. Tim -motioned left toward the railroad track. “That’s as good -a way as any. At least there’s a little cover there.”</p> - -<p>They ran across a field and into a grove of scrub oak -and pine. They dashed pell-mell down a steep little hill -and across a brook and up toward the ridge where the railroad -ran. They heard the sound of horses’ hoofs crashing -through the undergrowth across the stream. They ducked -behind a clump of weeds. The riders came into view and -jumped the stream. They reined in and looked along the -little valley and up the hill.</p> - -<p>Tim and Red watched unmoving as the men talked in -low tones. One was well past middle age, thin and handsome. -He was hatless, his face was tan and his head was -covered with a thick mat of snow-white hair. The other -man was big and burly, a giant of a man. A gray slouch -hat sheltered his eyes. Both were armed.</p> - -<p>The big man shouted, “You better show yourselves. We -know you’re in this place. We saw you high-tailin’ it across -the fields.”</p> - -<p>Tim whispered, “We better give up to save our lives.”</p> - -<p>They stood with their hands in the air and the rifles -came up. The horses moved close.</p> - -<p>The white-haired man spoke with a hint of a burr. “Are -you the soldiers who escaped from the jail in Columbia?”</p> - -<p>“We are,” said Red.</p> - -<p>“Are you armed?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>“Not even a knife,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>The big man spoke. “I’ll search them.” He dismounted, -and leaving his rifle with the older man, moved forward -with caution. “Step out from behind those weeds.”</p> - -<p>They held their hands in the air, and the giant ordered, -“Take off your haversacks and blanket rolls.” He watched -them closely. “Throw them behind me on the ground.”</p> - -<p>The soldiers did as they were told and the man slapped -their pockets with the flats of his hamlike hands. Tim -heard the crinkle of the map but their captor took no -interest in this. He felt the diary and the book of photographs. -“Unbutton your blouse.”</p> - -<p>“That’s my diary and home photographs.”</p> - -<p>The man’s expression didn’t change. He fumbled for -the things but couldn’t find the top of the pocket and -finally he said, “Bring them out yourself, but mind, if you -try any funny stuff Mr. MacNeil will shoot you down.”</p> - -<p>Tim brought out the album and the diary and held -them in the palm of his hand. The man reached roughly -for the leather-bound books and slipped them into his -overcoat pocket.</p> - -<p>Red lowered his hands but he held them away from his -sides. “Those things are personal property.”</p> - -<p>The big man flushed. “You dirty Yankee muck. You’d -better raise your hands.”</p> - -<p>Now the older man’s voice came sharp. “Don’t talk to -the prisoners that way, Kane. These men are Union officers, -prisoners of war. Give the books to me.”</p> - -<p>The big man was sullen. “As soon as I tie the prisoners’ -hands. We can carry the monkeys across our saddles.”</p> - -<p>The white-haired man smiled, then his face grew stern. -He spoke to the captives. “If we leave you unbound so you -can ride behind, will you give me your word you’ll behave?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>Tim smiled. “This wouldn’t be the best time to make -a break. You have our word.”</p> - -<p>The giant’s eyes glistened like polished flint under his -shaggy brows, reflecting his hate of Yankees in general and -resentment of the older man.</p> - -<p>He grumbled as the prisoners mounted freely, and was -silent and brooding as they slanted up the hill and jogged -through the wood and across the open fields. Tim rode -behind the older man.</p> - -<p>When they had traveled half a mile or so they approached -the gate of a rambling, white two-story house -with lanterns hanging at either side of the big front door. -A large barn stood behind the house and other outbuildings -beside the barn.</p> - -<p>The big man spoke. “I’ll lock the Yankees in my shed -and station a guard around.”</p> - -<p>“These men are in sorry shape. They need some food -and rest and a chance to dry their clothes. I’ll put them up -here.” MacNeil nodded to Red. “You are free to dismount. -Kane, set the bundles by the gate and find two -men to act as guards and two to relieve them at suppertime -and shift with them through the night. Let them stand at -opposite sides of the house for now.”</p> - -<p>“If you’ll pardon me, sir, I think you’re making a great -mistake. Surely you don’t want to keep them here.”</p> - -<p>“Do as I say.”</p> - -<p>The giant rode off at a fast clip, looking back as he went. -The others dismounted and the Scotsman said, “Kane’s -a good worker or I wouldn’t keep him on.”</p> - -<p>Two young dogs came racing around the house, wagging -their tails and barking happily. They sniffed around the -prisoners’ legs. One was a hound with beautiful reddish-brown -eyes, and the other—whose coat was golden—looked -like a cross between a sheep dog and a shaggy bear. They<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> -wagged their tails and Tim patted them in turn. Red -scratched the chin of the shaggy one and the dogs dashed -off to play again.</p> - -<p>The Scotsman smiled. “Would you believe that they -had the same mother?”</p> - -<p>Tim eyed a pistol that hung at the belt of their host.</p> - -<p>“I think I should warn you,” the Scotsman said, “I’m -the best pistol shot in Chester County. I wouldn’t like to -have to try my skill on you.”</p> - -<p>Tim said, “Thank you for your courtesy, sir. We have -no mind to escape just now. By the way,” he motioned -toward Red, “this is Lieutenant Kelly. My name is Bradford.”</p> - -<p>The man said, “Let’s go along inside.”</p> - -<p>A middle-aged colored man opened the door, as if at a -prearranged sign. His voice shook as he greeted his master, -and MacNeil said, “These men are prisoners but you have -nothing to fear. Build fires in the west rooms so they can -dry their clothes. See that the beds are made up.” MacNeil -called after the retreating man, “And ask Jenny to fetch -their bundles from beside the gate. Be sure they carry no -pistols or knives before you take them up to the rooms.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Massa.”</p> - -<p>“Would you care to join me by the fire?” MacNeil asked.</p> - -<p>They entered a long, low living room with a ceiling of -raw brown beams, plaster between them. The prisoners -seated themselves at one side of a crackling fire. Their -host tossed his coat across a chair and sat with his pistol in -his lap. “How long have you been on the countryside?”</p> - -<p>Red pulled his beard. “Today was our fourth day, sir.”</p> - -<p>“How did you make your escape from the jail?”</p> - -<p>“We’d better not say, but we didn’t give violence to any -guard.”</p> - -<p>“You were heading for Knoxville, I suppose?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>“Yes,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>MacNeil stared at the hearth rug. “I was in a Scottish -regiment years ago. Soldiering seemed quite a lark when -I was young, but a war like this is a filthy thing.” He was -silent a minute and then he said, “This country has been -good to me, and now this war is tearing it apart. Our -farms were prosperous and our people proud. I settled in -Charleston when I first came out here, and when I had a -bit of money I bought this land.”</p> - -<p>The colored man stood in the door. “Jenny says the -gentlemen’s sacks hold nothing much but dirty clothes. -There’s a bit of brandy and a sack of ground corn.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Luke.” MacNeil fingered his pistol and -talked as before. “It’s no good mincing words. The War is -going against us now. We’re being crushed by the industrial -might of the North.” He smiled with a trace of bitterness. -“My sons would never admit it, I’m sure. One of -them went to medical college in the North but he’s a Southerner -to the core. They are both with General Lee just -now.”</p> - -<p>Tim said, “We believe in our cause, as they do in theirs.”</p> - -<p>Their host looked into the fire, then studied the faces of -the prisoners. “You boys have had a trying time. It would -grieve me sorely if I saw you come to an unhappy end. -The people hereabouts hate Yankee uniforms. Twenty-two -Confederate dead sleep in the churchyard down the -road.”</p> - -<p>A thumping came at a door at the back of the house. -“That must be Kane,” MacNeil said.</p> - -<p>The colored man came in again. “Mr. Kane has four -guards outside. He asks would you like a word with him?”</p> - -<p>“Tell Mr. Kane to send one of the guards to the second -floor hall. I’ll see him shortly.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>MacNeil stood up, keeping his pistol in his hand. “I’ll -take you to your rooms.”</p> - -<p>MacNeil kept his prisoners ahead of him as he showed -them the way. He directed Red to a door in the middle of -the hall and Tim to a room that faced the front as well as -the side. “Make yourselves comfortable. Would you like -some tea and a bit of bread to tide you over till suppertime?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t trouble, sir,” Tim said. “Sleep is what we need -right now.”</p> - -<p>A fresh-lit fire crackled on the hearth. Tim spread his -blanket on the floor, stripped off his clothes and hung them -over the fire screen to dry. He drew a ladder-back chair -close to the hearth and turned out the contents of his -haversack and arranged the clothes on the chair.</p> - -<p>A pitcher and a tumbler stood on a table by the bed and -a china basin steamed on a wooden stand. Tim reached for -a sponge that hung with a towel at the side of the stand -and washed and dried. He helped himself to a drink of -water, raised a window a crack and slipped between the -clean white sheets.</p> - -<p>One window of his room faced west and he judged by -the angle of the sun that it must be past midafternoon. He -lay for a moment, staring at the white ceiling overhead and -wishing he could find pleasure in lying between sweet-smelling -sheets, but the thought of going back to the damp, -cheerless walls of the jail, the petty tyranny of the guards -and the boredom, was enough to make him sick.</p> - -<p>He drifted into an uneasy sleep.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>Tim woke to the sound of knocking on his door and the -voice of MacNeil. “Will you join me at supper in twenty -minutes?”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, sir.”</p> - -<p>The room was dark except for the flickering light on the -hearth. Outside, the gaudy sky above the nearby hills was -laced across with thin gray clouds.</p> - -<p>Tim struck a match and lit a lamp on the bedside table. -He turned down the wick so that it wouldn’t smoke the -glass. When he had finished dressing he looked into a -mirror that hung near the lamp. His eyes were sunken -and he had a light beard.</p> - -<p>He buttoned his blouse and straightened the tattered -sleeves, smoothed the front. He sat on a chair to put on -his boots. The boots were still damp. His stomach was -painfully hollow but after a meal he would be fit as a -fiddle.</p> - -<p>Tim puzzled about MacNeil. The man seemed moderate -in his views. He had a fine sense of justice and it was -plain he had a core of steel.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>Tim heard voices outside and realized he hadn’t lowered -the window. He caught the sound of Kane’s voice. “It’s -folly to keep them here. They should be shut in a shed -with guards all around.”</p> - -<p>Tim heard the whine of a dog. MacNeil’s voice had an -edge of impatience. “They shall have a meal and a good -night’s sleep. They’ll have a spell of bread and water back -in Richland Jail.”</p> - -<p>“If I had my way I’d break their spirits now.”</p> - -<p>“Good night, Kane.”</p> - -<p>Kane mumbled sourly. There was still enough light so -that Tim could see the dark shapes of the man and his dogs -as they moved into the gathering dusk.</p> - -<p>Tim heard the slam of MacNeil’s front door. He lowered -the window and turned down the lamp and opened -the door a crack.</p> - -<p>The light in the hall was dim, but he could see the guard -lean forward in his chair, his pistol pointed at the crack. -“You can come out now, hands in the air.”</p> - -<p>Tim did as he was told. The guard said, “Now stand -there by the door.”</p> - -<p>Red was stirring about inside his room. His voice came -loud. “I’m coming out.”</p> - -<p>Red winked at Tim. The prisoners walked down the -staircase ahead of the guard. Their host waited for them -in the hall.</p> - -<p>“Good evening,” he said. “Did you rest well?”</p> - -<p>Red grinned. “Thank you, sir. We did.”</p> - -<p>Red’s manner showed a change of spirit, and MacNeil -eyed him sharply before he asked his captives to sit for a -moment by the fire. “Would you like a glass of sherry, -gentlemen?”</p> - -<p>Red said, “Begging your pardon, sir, but our stomachs -are so empty that it might not set too well.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>Tim chuckled to himself and the Scotsman smiled. -“Then we’ll go right in. Luke will serve wine with the -meal.”</p> - -<p>The table was set with a white cloth and cut glass. -Silverware gleamed in the candlelight. The vegetables -were served by a middle-aged colored woman who wore a -crisp white apron and a little starched cap with frills on -top.</p> - -<p>MacNeil carved the chicken, a fine fat bird.</p> - -<p>“I noticed a rosewood piano at the end of your sitting -room,” Tim said. “Do you play, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Not a note,” their host said. “My daughter plays. I -took her to Greenville to visit a cousin. I’ll be happy to -fetch her back again. It was her son who saw you and gave -the alarm.” MacNeil smiled faintly. “He’s dying to see -you again. We’ll put you on exhibition after dinner, if -you don’t mind.”</p> - -<p>Red said, “Not at all.”</p> - -<p>Their host was generous with helpings of chicken, and -the colored woman passed the gravy boat and vegetables -several times.</p> - -<p>MacNeil turned to Tim. “Where is your home?”</p> - -<p>“I’m from a small town on the Connecticut River, a -place called Stone’s Brook. My father is the only doctor -in town. Lieutenant Kelly is a New Haven man. He left -a wife and child at home.” Tim knew he was telling more -than he’d been asked. “But as for me, I’m an unmarried -man.”</p> - -<p>Their host smiled. “You can’t be twenty. You still have -time.”</p> - -<p>Red said, “He’s picked his girl.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve been serving with the Department of the South, -I presume. Where were you captured, may I ask?”</p> - -<p>“On Morris Island, sir, on July eleventh last,” Red said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>“That would be Battery Wagner.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Fort Wagner, we call it.”</p> - -<p>MacNeil fingered the stem of his glass and smiled dryly. -“I guess it earned that designation.”</p> - -<p>After dinner they retired to the living room and their -host spoke to a guard who sat in the hall.</p> - -<p>When MacNeil joined them again he said, “Some of my -neighbors want to have a look at you. I’ve decided to let -them come. I want them to know that you aren’t wild -beasts.” He fingered the butt of his pistol and said, as if to -himself, “They’ll have to leave their firearms outside the -door.”</p> - -<p>MacNeil made small talk until the first knock sounded -at the door. A man with gray hair came into the room -with his wife.</p> - -<p>MacNeil introduced them as Dr. and Mrs. Sellers. “Dr. -Sellers is our family doctor.”</p> - -<p>Soon five more people filed into the room, two women -and three men, all well past middle age. They sat stiffly at -first until the manner of their host made them feel at home.</p> - -<p>The doctor turned his bright blue eyes on Tim and -asked in a gentle drawl, “Do you know much about the -progress of the war?”</p> - -<p>“Very little, sir, I’m afraid,” Tim said. “We were in jail -more than five months before we escaped.”</p> - -<p>Their host nodded toward the man who had asked the -question and turned to Tim. “Doctor Sellers is our only -doctor—your father’s Southern counterpart.”</p> - -<p>The doctor spoke softly. “In wartime we think of our -enemies as unrelenting scoundrels. Of course we know in -our hearts it isn’t so. But I can’t for the life of me see why -the North must bring our long-established institutions -down.” He shook his head. “Now I’m talking like a child. -Slavery is already doomed.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>The doctor’s wife gasped. “Surely not if we win the -War.”</p> - -<p>The doctor said, “I’m sorry, Mary. Our lamp is burning -mighty low.”</p> - -<p>A hard-faced woman rose from her chair. “I never -thought to hear such talk. I think I’ll be moving along.”</p> - -<p>A heavy knock came at the door and Kane was let in, -followed by three men, one of them with a bad limp, unmistakably -Kane’s son. MacNeil greeted the men and in -the silence that followed Tim heard the yelping and -scratching of hounds.</p> - -<p>Kane stood, his head nearly touching one of the heavy -beams, the firelight making his face an ugly mask. He -spoke in his rasping drawl. “In the presence of your -neighbors, Mr. MacNeil, I want to say it one more time. -These men should be treated as prisoners.”</p> - -<p>“Prisoners of war, not criminals, Mr. Kane.”</p> - -<p>Kane mumbled “Good night” and moved toward the -door with his son and friends trailing behind. They were -followed shortly by the hard-faced woman and one of the -men who must be her husband.</p> - -<p>The doctor, speaking for the people who remained, said, -“I bid you gentlemen good night.” He smiled sadly. “This -village was a happy place before the War. I wish you could -have known us then.”</p> - -<p>When his neighbors had left, MacNeil gave orders to -the guard. “Station yourself in the upstairs hall. I’ll show -the prisoners to their rooms a little later on. The night -is cold. There’ll be no need of guards outside. Two can -sleep while two stand watch outside the bedroom doors. -You can set the shifts as suits you best.”</p> - -<p>The Scotsman set fresh logs on the fire, sat down and -pressed the tips of his fingers together. He spoke without -a sign of hesitation. “Of course I know well what’s in your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -minds. I can’t lift a finger to send you on your way. If the -guards are alert they can hear the slightest sound through -the bedroom doors. But suppose for a moment that you -reach the ground. Kane defers to me because he has no -choice, but there’s nothing to stop him from setting up a -guard along the road and I suspect he may have done just -that. Such men will shoot to kill. Kane has a pack of ugly -hounds. Even if you had a decent start, the alarm would -soon be raised. Kane would like a chase like that. I’d give -you very little chance.”</p> - -<p>MacNeil tapped the butt of his pistol, then put his -fingers together again and spoke above the crackling of -the fire. “Suppose you cleared the county and the state?” -Tim had the strong impression that MacNeil was speaking -exactly as he would to his own sons. “You have no overcoats, -no food to speak of.” He massaged his temples with -the thumb and fingers of his right hand. “And the last I -heard, Knoxville was under siege.”</p> - -<p>Red pulled at his beard. “You’ve done as much as you -possibly could to make us feel at home. You’ve restored -our spirit.”</p> - -<p>The Scotsman looked at Red with a trace of fun on his -handsome face. Then he grew serious again. “I hope I -have no reason to regret the restoration of your spirit.” -He stood abruptly. “I retire early. I’m afraid you gentlemen -must do the same.”</p> - -<p>Two guards stood together by a lamp that hung on the -wall at the back of the hall. They nodded their heads when -they saw MacNeil.</p> - -<p>MacNeil said, “Lieutenant Bradford, I hope you’ll forgive -me. I forgot to get your diary and photographs from -Kane.”</p> - -<p>“That’s all right,” Tim said. “It was quite an exciting -afternoon.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>“I’ll see that you get them in the morning.”</p> - -<p>There was a stir at the back of the hall and one of the -guards said, “Ho, Mr. MacNeil, here’s your grandson -prowling about.”</p> - -<p>“Go to bed, Michael,” MacNeil said.</p> - -<p>“You promised I could see the Yanks before I went to -bed.”</p> - -<p>“So I did.”</p> - -<p>Red said, “Good evening, lad.”</p> - -<p>The boy stood in the lamplight, his nightgown nearly -reaching the floor. His face was tough for a boy so young. -“You look better now,” he said. “You frightened me -most to death outside.”</p> - -<p>Tim smiled.</p> - -<p>The boy said, “You’re most as good-lookin’ as people -down here.” He lowered his eyes and frowned again. “Do -you have any news of my father? Lieutenant Curtis is his -name. A friend saw him wounded at the battle of Malvern -Hill.”</p> - -<p>Tim looked down at the boy’s unruly hair and questioning -eyes. He spoke softly. “This is a mighty big war, lad. -We didn’t fight at Malvern Hill.”</p> - -<p>MacNeil spoke up. “Now off to bed, Michael. Sorry I -forgot to keep my promise.”</p> - -<p>The boy looked up, speaking man to man. “I know -you’re busy with the Yankees and such.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER EIGHTEEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>The lamp burned low in Tim’s room. He stood still for -a moment, studying the place. The door at the back must -be a closet. He took off his boots and put them on the -hearth and padded over to take a look. The floor boards -creaked but he didn’t care. Sounds in the room would go -unnoticed for a little while.</p> - -<p>He opened the door without a sound. The closet was -empty and there was a door at the back. Tim tried the -knob but the door was locked. Boots sounded on the floor -beyond and he heard a tapping on the other side. He -answered the tapping and heard the stealthy turn of a key. -The knob moved and the door opened and Red whispered, -“You game for a try?”</p> - -<p>“Let’s watch and listen for an hour or so.”</p> - -<p>Red shut the door on his side of the closet but Tim left -his ajar. He walked without stealth, as he might if he -were preparing to go to bed, and set to work packing his -haversack with the things that by now were warm and dry. -There was a big tin of matches on the bedside table. He -put it into his haversack and rolled his blanket and laced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> -it across the top of the sack. He cleaned his teeth with a -bit of salt, regretting the loss of the taste of the dinner, and -packed the brush. He raised the lamp chimney and blew -out the flame, opened both windows a crack and hung his -blouse on the polished bedpost.</p> - -<p>He lay on the bed with his feet toward the pillows, his -chin cupped in his hand, and looked into the cold December -night. In the hall there was a scraping of chairs and -mumbled talk. Tim heard MacNeil bidding the guards -good night, and then there was quiet.</p> - -<p>He thought, If we don’t act now we’ll be back in jail by -tomorrow night. He felt his heart thumping against his -ribs. If Kane had no sentries outside the house, they would -make an attempt. They could jump to the ground.</p> - -<p>Tim moved to the window that faced the west.</p> - -<p>The scene was lit by a crescent moon. The leaves on the -ground were stirred by gusts of chilly wind, and deep -shadows lay across the grass.</p> - -<p>Lamplight winking beyond the trees showed Tim that -the center of the village must be a half mile or so northwest.</p> - -<p>As he traced the wagon road to the edge of the trees he -heard the sound of hoofs on the frozen ground and a rider -came around the bend, big in the saddle and turning his -head to left and right. The rider was Kane, there was no -doubt of that.</p> - -<p>As Kane came close Tim thought he saw an unlit lantern -in the man’s left hand, ready to be used as a signal perhaps. -Kane was apparently doing the job himself. He passed the -house, then shortly appeared again, riding back the way -he had come. Before he reached the bend in the road he -turned to the right and rode into a field to the west of the -house. He paused in the middle, then cut back to the -road again and disappeared behind the trees.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>Tim felt suddenly cold and began to shiver. He moved -quietly back to the bed, put on his blouse and lay down -to wait.</p> - -<p>In less than an hour Red tapped at the door again. Tim -had watched Kane make another tour much like the first. -But now he was gone and everything was still.</p> - -<p>Tim went to the door and whispered to Red, “You’ve -seen Kane, of course.”</p> - -<p>Red nodded. “But I think my sentry has gone to sleep, -and there’s a door from this room to a storeroom at the -back. If we drop to the ground behind the house, we can -retrace our route for a mile or so to confuse the dogs.”</p> - -<p>“Then go for the railroad as we did before. They’d -hardly expect that we’d do that.”</p> - -<p>As Tim grasped his boots and his haversack a floor board -creaked. He stood stock still for half a minute, then moved -through the door.</p> - -<p>“Put on your haversack,” Red whispered. “We may -have some running to do.”</p> - -<p>They watched while Kane made another circuit of the -farm, waited awhile and passed into the storeroom through -a very small door. The window of the storeroom faced -the back but it was smaller than the other windows of the -house. Below it was a small shed roof. “That’s a bit of -luck,” Red whispered.</p> - -<p>They struggled through the window and dropped to -the roof and then to the ground with what seemed like a -terrible chorus of noises. They stood for a moment, then -moved along the back of the house. As they rounded the -corner and started across the side yard MacNeil’s dogs set -up a racket in an outbuilding beside the barn. The fugitives -broke into a run, keeping the house between them -and the place where they had last seen Kane.</p> - -<p>They gained the shelter of a stand of pines and paused<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> -to look back. Kane soon rounded a corner of the house, -clearly confused as to which way to look. He reined in at -the back of the house and looked toward the north, then -dismounted, ran up the steps and rapped on the door.</p> - -<p>Tim and Red retreated into the trees. When they topped -a little rise they ran along the road heading south.</p> - -<p>Just past a curve they found the place where the cows -had crossed. Here they left the road and cut to the west -across the field and through the grove of scrub oak and -pine.</p> - -<p>As they ran down the hill they could hear the hounds. -They reached the little brook and ran in the water for a -hundred yards or so until the sound of the dogs was -disturbingly close. Then they dashed up the ridge toward -the railroad track.</p> - -<p>They approached the track. They were gasping for -breath and the baying of the hounds was sharp in their -ears. Lanterns bobbed at the bottom of the hill. The -hopelessness of flight struck Tim with sickening force.</p> - -<p>When they reached the track a new sound broke the -air. The fugitives listened and the sound came again, the -shriek of a whistle off to the south. Without a word to each -other they jumped the track and ran like madmen along -the embankment. Now the hounds were close, their baying -rose above the roar of the approaching engine. A shot -rang out.</p> - -<p>The train moved toward them, lumbering along at -what seemed a snail’s pace. The engineers must have seen -the hunters. The whistle shrieked repeatedly.</p> - -<p>Tim looked over his shoulder and before he knew it -the towering funnel stood above them, belching smoke and -flame. The light of the headlamp flooded the rails.</p> - -<p>Now the hounds were just across the track, and Kane’s -figure rose in his stirrups as his horse shrieked and reared<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -in fright. Tim ran at top speed, leapt to a flatcar and hung -on for his life. He worked himself onto the car, sank to the -planks and rested a moment before he looked back.</p> - -<p>The car behind was a flatcar, too, and Red was clinging -to a stanchion in the middle of the car. Tim jumped to -his feet, and above the thunder of the rolling cars the -whine of a bullet split the air. He jumped the coupling, -stumbled over some loose timber and grasped Red’s arm, -pulling upward with all his might. The ground slid past -his vision like a crazy quilt. Something gave way and he -lost his footing. He fell backward and hit the flatcar with -sickening force.</p> - -<p>At first his eyes were sightless and there was terrible -thunder in his ears. Someone was shaking him and slapping -his cheeks. He opened his eyes and saw Red bending -over him. Tim said, “I thought I’d lost you.”</p> - -<p>Red pointed to his ears and shook his head to show he -couldn’t hear.</p> - -<p>Tim lay still for a while. His head was splitting. When -he raised it the light of the moon touched Red’s face. Red’s -hair was wild and his cheek was cut and streaked with -blood.</p> - -<p>As they rounded a curve Tim sat up and took in their -situation. Ahead of the car he had boarded was one boxcar, -shielding them from the fireman and the engineer. Behind, -there were three more boxcars. A red lantern marked -the end of the train but apparently nobody rode the last -car. All the cars must be empty. They bounced and jerked -until it seemed they would jump the track. A good horseman -might keep up with the train for a while in open -country, but he would find it hard in country like this.</p> - -<p>They had not traveled far when they entered a wood -where the trees pressed close on either side.</p> - -<p>Red shouted, “How far to the end of the line?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>“Thirty-five or forty miles at most.”</p> - -<p>The train thundered onto a wooden trestle. The trestle -groaned and the fish joints set up a chorus of screams. A -milky mist rose from the dark, still waters surrounding the -roots of the swollen trees. It drifted thinly through the -moss and vines that hung unmoving in the chill night air.</p> - -<p>Red reached under his blouse and pulled out his watch. -The cracked crystal glinted in the dim light. He stopped -up one ear and pressed the watch against the other, grinned -and nodded. “Better ride less than an hour, I should -think.”</p> - -<p>The train jumped so much and the light was so bad -that they couldn’t read the hands through the cracks in -the glass. Tim faced the rear of the car and lit a match. It -was just past ten. He blew out the match. “Let’s jump at -ten to eleven.”</p> - -<p>As the train left the trestle it slowed to pass through a -sleeping village, then gathered speed again. Red asked, -“You want to sleep?”</p> - -<p>Tim shook his head and lay on his back and watched the -moon and the stars standing in the heavens as the train -barreled through the night. When they next lit a match it -was quarter to eleven. Tim was uneasy. It seemed to him -the train was slowing down. He said, “Let’s jump.”</p> - -<p>Red got to his feet. “I’ll go first. Jump wide.” He -gripped a stanchion and watched the ground below them, -blurred by the speed of the train. The land was flat and -grassy with a thicket here and there. Red reared back and -jumped into the wind and Tim followed, flexing his knees -against the shock of the ground. At the moment of jumping, -the air sucked him back while the train roared on. He -hit the ground and rolled clear of a patch of undergrowth. -He felt as if one knee was twisted but when he got to his -feet it seemed all right.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>Red came out of a bramblebush, cursing and laughing. -Tim stood up. The strap of his haversack had broken and -some of his clothes were scattered on the ground. He -fumbled for them while Red fixed the strap by tying the -ends together with a clumsy square knot.</p> - -<p>As the thunder of the train became a distant rumble -Tim pointed north across the dark landscape to the shapes -of the hills beyond. “If we walk fast, we’ll be at the border -by dawn.”</p> - -<p>Red hooked his hands around the straps that held his -haversack. “And what does it look like, Timmy boy? Is it -a bright green ribbon twenty feet across?”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER NINETEEN</h2> -</div> - -<p>As the sky grew light in the east they came to the edge -of a rolling pasture. They climbed a knob of land but -couldn’t see a farmhouse or a barn or any other signs of -life, so they walked in the pasture at the edge of a wood. -They topped another rise and there was a tethered cow. -It seemed she had been there all night. Her udder was -bulging and her teats touched the tips of the winter grass. -Red’s eyes sparkled. “The poor thing is suffering something -terrible, carrying such a load of milk.”</p> - -<p>Tim moved up to the cow, clucking and talking in a -soothing voice. He took the tin cups and kneeled in the -grass and milked. They drank and milked, and mixed -milk with rokeeg and ate a ration of mush. Tim filled their -canteen and then, in a spirit of fun, he milked straight into -his mouth.</p> - -<p>He got to his feet and patted the cow and she turned her -head and gave him a gentle bovine stare. Tim said, “I wish -we could take her along.”</p> - -<p>“Might cramp our style when we cross the mountains.”</p> - -<p>A shout broke the air and they saw a man about two<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -hundred yards to the east, running with a shotgun in one -hand and a milk pail in the other.</p> - -<p>As they crashed into the cover of the nearby trees they -heard a bang and Red was seized by a frenzy of high-spirited -mirth. “The man’s ungrateful, that’s what he is.”</p> - -<p>They walked for an hour or so and sat on a patch of grass -to rest. The day had dawned clear and warmer. Tim -reached for the map and spread it out against his knee. -They had made good time the night before, heading -straight north over level, lightly wooded country, following -a road for a while and crossing a deep-cut river on a stout -wooden bridge. The night had been just right for walking; -just nippy enough to give them spirit. They must be close -to the border now.</p> - -<p>Tim marked an X where he thought they were and read -the compass. They had kept the Broad River on their left -to a point a few miles south of MacNeil’s farm. There the -river had parted from the northwesterly direction of the -track, flowing straight down from the north. They had -crossed it on a high bridge. Now as they moved due north -they would strike the river again just after they crossed -into North Carolina. They made up their minds to follow -the Broad until they reached the foothills of the Blue -Ridge.</p> - -<p>In the mountain country Kate’s map seemed less than -complete, but on the far side of the mountains, in the upper -left-hand corner of the map, <span class="allsmcap">KNOXVILLE</span> was neatly lettered. -The railroads and roads that converged on the city were -clearly shown.</p> - -<p>As Tim put the map away he slapped at his pocket and -remembered that Kane still had his diary and album of -photographs.</p> - -<p>Tim didn’t mention his loss to Red. He lay back on the -grass and closed his eyes and tried to bring Kate’s face to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> -mind. He started by remembering her photograph but -that didn’t work. He thought of how she walked and -danced and the way she turned her head. That brought -her alive but try as he would he couldn’t make her face -come clear.</p> - -<p>Red chewed the end of a piece of grass. “A penny for -your thoughts.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t have a penny.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll owe it to you.”</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t have you carry a burden of debt.” Tim -opened his eyes, sat up on the grass and watched a little -gray bird fluttering and chirping in the underbrush. “I was -trying to remember Kate’s face but it wouldn’t come -clear.”</p> - -<p>“Nancy’s face doesn’t often come clear any more.” Red -stood up. “We better find cover and sleep a while.”</p> - -<p>“We’ve been lucky. I hope it will last.”</p> - -<p>They walked until they found a grove of pines and laid -out the poncho and blankets and slept until just after -noon. Then they found a little stream and drank and -doused their heads and moved on without eating. They -were keeping the milk to mix with rokeeg at suppertime.</p> - -<p>That evening the sky began to cloud. During the day -they had circled some cabins but they hadn’t seen a road -or a town. Now, as it began to grow dark, they came to a -road that ran northwest and decided to follow it.</p> - -<p>When they had traveled a mile or two they rounded a -bend and a young colored man and his girl appeared before -them in the middle of the road. The girl shrank back, and -the man stood rooted to the ground, staring at the strangers.</p> - -<p>“You have nothing to fear,” Tim said.</p> - -<p>The young man said, “Please don’t tell you saw us here.”</p> - -<p>Red laughed and moved closer. “If you won’t tell that -you saw us here.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>The young man lowered his head and strained his eyes. -“Lordy, you wearin’ uniforms.”</p> - -<p>The girl trembled so hard she could barely speak. “What -would Yankees be doin’ here?”</p> - -<p>Tim said quietly, “We’re making our way north. We -haven’t had an easy time.”</p> - -<p>The man studied their tattered uniforms. “Well, I -guess not,” he said. “Wish we could help you, but all the -colored folks hereabouts mus’ be inside by sundown.”</p> - -<p>Red said, “You can help us most by forgetting you saw -us. Have we crossed into North Carolina yet?”</p> - -<p>“No, Massa. Old North State is one mile more.” The -man looked down at his bare feet. “I thought to go north -to fight for Massa Linkum, but I got no shoes.”</p> - -<p>The girl turned to her man. “Don’t go away,” she -pleaded softly.</p> - -<p>Red’s face was serious. “You better not try it without -any shoes.” He looked into the shadows. “Will we be -safe if we travel this road?”</p> - -<p>The young man turned and motioned with his arm. -“Go lef’ when you come to the fork. Hide in the trees if -you hear a soun’.”</p> - -<p>As the white men started down the road the girl called -after them, “God keep you safe.”</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>On the morning of the third day after they had crossed -into North Carolina they slept at the bottom of a broad -cleft in a massive rock. At the top of the rock the rift was -narrow so that the crack formed a sheltered cave. The -floor of the cave was dry and the men were tired. They -slept much later than usual.</p> - -<p>Tim was awakened by a violent cramp. They had eaten -the last of their food two days before. He lay on his back<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> -and stared at the walls of rock. It was bitter cold. If they -hoped to go on they would have to find food by nightfall.</p> - -<p>Tim studied Red’s face, thin and sunken under his -bristling beard. Red stirred in his sleep and moaned and -settled down again. Tim bent his knees and sat up, -stretched, and crawled to the mouth of the cave. The -ground outside was in the grip of a heavy frost.</p> - -<p>Tim faced a long, steep hill dotted with poplar and -spruce. At the bottom of the hill, in a winding valley, a -river glistened in the afternoon sun and the sound of -running water came to his ears. Beyond the valley, above -the delicate fringes of purple and gold, a mighty ridge -stood proud against the sky.</p> - -<p>Last night and in the early hours of this morning they -had traveled fifteen miles or so without a halt, pushing -onward to forget their hunger and bring themselves nearer -to people who might help. Behind them was their first -high ridge. They had crossed it in the blackness of a -cloudy night, hardly aware of the dizzying heights until -they reached the top. Then, looking back, they saw the -shapes of the cliffs and rocks tumbling downward into -the darkness, giving them sudden vertigo.</p> - -<p>The country ahead was wild and rugged. If they had a -rifle they could live on game, but as it was they could only -hope for a chance to beg.</p> - -<p>As Tim idly studied the valley below he thought he -heard a voice. He listened closely. It must be his imagination. -There was nothing now but the sound of water, -the squawk of a crow on the wing. It came again, louder -at first, then carried away on the wind.</p> - -<p>In a minute or two Tim heard horses breaking the underbrush -across the river. Through the trees he could see a -column of cavalry wading in, pausing in the middle to -water their horses.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>With the sun in his eyes and from this distance it was -hard to see their uniforms, but they were gray, not blue, -that much was certain.</p> - -<p>Tim slipped back into the cave and shook Red’s arm. -Red pulled back and turned away. Tim shook his shoulder -and Red sat up suddenly, wild-eyed, as if he’d been having -a nightmarish dream.</p> - -<p>Tim pressed his hand to his lips and motioned to Red -to come with him to the mouth of the cave. Red shook -his head and blinked, then crawled up and perched beside -Tim. The cavalrymen had begun to ride up the hill, -moving now at a pretty good clip, away from the cave. Red -squinted dazedly into the sun. “Those are Federal uniforms!”</p> - -<p>There was something wild in his voice. He gave a shout -and jostled Tim as he burst free of the cleft in the rock and -stood in full view. He was raising his hands to his mouth, -to shout again, when Tim gave him a shove and knocked -him to the ground. As Red rolled over, angry and surprised, -Tim pinned him to the ground. “Those riders are -Rebs.”</p> - -<p>Red glared and tried to roll free, then suddenly relaxed. -“Are you positive?”</p> - -<p>“Positive. I was watching them before I woke you.”</p> - -<p>Tim peered around the rock to see if the riders had -heard Red’s shout but the last one was just disappearing -behind a little rise, going the same way as before.</p> - -<p>Red sat up with a haunted expression on his face. He -spoke softly without turning around. “Did they hear me -shout?”</p> - -<p>“Apparently not.”</p> - -<p>Red was breathing hard. He didn’t speak.</p> - -<p>Tim sat down nearby, quiet for a minute or two before -he spoke. “I shouldn’t have wakened you suddenly.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>Red’s eyes rested on the valley, watching for signs of -other horsemen following the first.</p> - -<p>Tim said, “It could have been I who did that.”</p> - -<p>“But it wasn’t. You’re just as hungry, but not so hungry -that you made yourself see ghosts.”</p> - -<p>“I’d been awake. I had time to consider.”</p> - -<p>“But think of a man like Kautz for instance. Can you -imagine him doing what I did just now?”</p> - -<p>“He might have made the same mistake.” Tim smiled. -“Kautz would have convinced me I was wrong.”</p> - -<p>“Not likely he would have made such a devilish big -mistake.”</p> - -<p>“Kautz was a professional soldier. When you and I were -fighting men we made ourselves think as soldiers think, -but Kautz thought that way every minute of his life.”</p> - -<p>“You mean we aren’t soldiers any more.”</p> - -<p>“We’re the hunted, not the hunters, now. It changes -a man. It frightens me sometimes when I lie awake in the -gray light of dawn.”</p> - -<p>Red smiled at last. “I wonder where Kautz is now.”</p> - -<p>“God knows. Maybe back with the Seventh again.”</p> - -<p>“I hope he is.”</p> - -<p>Red squinted into the lowering sun. “Let’s push on -until we drop.”</p> - -<p>“We should take a chance, if we see a cabin,” Tim said. -“Another day without food will finish us.”</p> - -<p>“We better not knock on any cabin doors after dark. -Someone’s liable to shoot first and ask questions later.”</p> - -<p>The cavalry detachment had made them wary. They -kept a careful watch as they approached the crossing and -waded in. They followed the trail the horsemen had used -until it branched east. There was plenty of water and they -drank as often as they found a spring or a mountain stream.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>As the shadows of night crept up the ridge the men were -so tired they could barely move. They were thinking of -resting when Red noticed a pinpoint of light in the gloom -several hundred yards beyond them in the direction of the -ridge. “Our fate lies there,” he said. “Before we’re tempted -to knock on the door we better bed down for the night.”</p> - -<p>They woke before dawn. There wasn’t a sign of the light -in the trees, so they waited until the sky turned pink -in the east. As they gathered up their things and made -themselves ready it seemed to Tim that he felt even worse -than he had last night. The cold sliced into his bones -and the landscape swam before his eyes. He noted that Red -must feel the same. He swayed as he struggled with his -haversack. Tim felt the beat of his heart as they started -walking through the trees.</p> - -<p>They hadn’t traveled three hundred yards when they -found themselves at the edge of a clearing. There were -stumps all around. The trees had been cut, maybe two or -three years before, and some of the land had been farmed. -In the middle of the clearing was a cabin. A curl of wood -smoke twisted away from the chimney, carried off on the -morning breeze. Behind the house was an outhouse and a -shed, both rudely built.</p> - -<p>The soldiers moved up slowly with their hands held -away from their sides. When they were halfway up the -slope a woman came around a corner of the cabin. At -first Tim thought she was unarmed. Then he saw a pistol -in her hand. Her voice came strong. “Straighten up and -come along.” When they were closer she said, in the purest -mountain accent, “I saw men play at bein’ tired before.” -Then she cocked her head and strained forward. “No, by -gum, yer not play-actin’ at all.”</p> - -<p>The men stood on the frozen ground, swaying slightly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -waiting for the woman to make the next move. She was of -medium height and probably no more than twenty. She -wore a Mother Hubbard of rough homespun cloth drawn -tight across her breasts, cinched in at the waist with a man’s -wide leather belt. Her raven hair hung loose to her -shoulders and her skin was tanned. She looked at them -hard with piercing black eyes.</p> - -<p>Tim looked down at the gun in her hand. It was a Colt -revolver, cocked, well oiled and in good condition. The -hand that held it was muscular but a woman’s hand nevertheless. -Neither man lowered his eyes before her gaze.</p> - -<p>At last she spoke again in her husky twang, more quietly -than before. “You are the saddest, mos’ miserable pair of -hounds I ever saw. Surely those cain’t be soldiers’ uniforms.”</p> - -<p>Neither man spoke.</p> - -<p>She looked at Red. “You got a tongue, Redbeard?”</p> - -<p>Red smiled faintly. “Too tired to use it, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“Well at least you got one.” She turned to Tim. “You -Slim, you got a tongue? Tell me what yer doin’ here.”</p> - -<p>“Making our way across the mountains, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“Now don’t you s’pose that’s plain? What I mean, are -you Yankees or Rebels? That’s what I have to know.”</p> - -<p>Neither man answered.</p> - -<p>“Now you don’t know which one I am or why I should -give a hang at all.” She tossed her head. “Tell you what -I’ll do. Without my help you’ll never cross the Smokies -alive. If you answer wrong, I’ll send you on yer way.” She -squinted and smiled a humorless smile. “I’d like the -truth.”</p> - -<p>Red stood straight and looked right into the woman’s -eyes. “We’re Yankee soldiers, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>The woman’s expression barely changed. “I thought as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -much, though I never did see a Yankee uniform. Old Buck -helped other Yankees cross the mountains back last summer.”</p> - -<p>The woman’s face was still hard but she said, “Lordy, -you boys are shiverin’ somethin’ awful. Come along inside.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER TWENTY</h2> -</div> - -<p>The men slept fully clothed on a wide bunk bed on a -big straw mattress. Tim stirred in his sleep, opened his -eyes and propped up on one elbow. The big, brown room -was warm. The woman still sat in her high-backed rocker, -her sewing in her lap and her revolver glinting in her hand. -She was looking straight at Tim.</p> - -<p>She had nursed them like a mother since yesterday -morning, cooking for them and mending their clothes, and -making them rest to get back their strength.</p> - -<p>She had spent most of the time making overcoats from -blankets. She had cut and sewn as if the devil were after -her, working with unbelievable speed.</p> - -<p>Tim swung his feet to the floor and pulled his boots on. -He stood on the rough plank floor. Red still slept. Tim -walked to the hearth, put on a couple of logs and stirred -up the embers. He stood with his back to the fire. His -eyes rested on the revolver in her hand. “You won’t be -needing the pistol to keep us in line.”</p> - -<p>The woman raised her eyes. “Are all Yankee soldiers -like you and Redbeard, good mannered and kind?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>“I guess not, ma’am. You told me your husband and -some other men from these parts had joined with the -Yankees in the West. We aren’t the only Yanks you’ve -seen.”</p> - -<p>She almost spat. “Why they’re not Yankees like you at -all. They’re mountainmen.” She threw back her head and -laughed. “You and Redbeard are men, don’t get me wrong. -Just a different breed, that’s all.”</p> - -<p>She put her revolver deliberately on the table by her -chair. “All right,” she said. She looked into the fire, -seeming softer and more womanly now.</p> - -<p>Late that afternoon she brought in some rabbits to -butcher for stew. Red went out with Tim to cut and -carry firewood. They went to a tree that had fallen close -to the little privy. Tim took the first turn with the ax. The -blade bit the bark and Red said, “Funny how she settled -on our names right away, Redbeard and Slim. That’s -pretty close. But she’s not much of a one for names. Just -Missus Flint. We were lucky to find out what name she -went by at all.”</p> - -<p>Tim severed the trunk with a final blow and started -another cut.</p> - -<p>“What did you talk about this morning, Mr. Slim? She’s -been like sunshine today.”</p> - -<p>Tim smiled. “Now she knows we’re gentlemen.”</p> - -<p>“I see.”</p> - -<p>“What a life the woman has,” Tim said, looking at the -empty shed. “No husband, no horse; cow died last spring -and her hound died just a week ago, she said.”</p> - -<p>“Nancy’s a sturdy little thing, but I can’t imagine her -living like this.”</p> - -<p>They swung through the door and stumped across the -sagging floor to watch the woman work. There were two -pots swinging over the blazing fire and she was cutting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -chunks of rabbit and potato into one. The other held corn -mush. Tim could tell by the smell.</p> - -<p>“Ma’am,” Red said, “we shouldn’t eat up all your food -this way.”</p> - -<p>The woman finished cutting and threw the last of the -bones and waste into a cracked china bowl on the hearth. -She wiped her hands on her apron and sat in her rocker. -“That’s foolish talk. I can shoot a rabbit as good as any -man, with a pistol even. This summer I grew enough -corn to feed a regiment and vegetables too. Then there’s -Old Buck in the village in the valley. He heads up a bunch -o’ Union men, part of a band they call True Heroes of -America. They hide men out so they won’t have to fight -with the Rebel Army. Well, Old Buck has a store, and if -I need a thing, Old Buck gives it to me. ‘Nate Flint’ll pay -when he comes home,’ he says. I look at him straight last -time an’ says, ‘Maybe Nate Flint will never get home.’ And -Old Buck purrs jus’ like a hooty owl and says, ‘Mebbie -I’ll fall outa bed tonight and break my neck.’”</p> - -<p>The men settled on a bench across from the rocker -and all three were quiet, just sniffing the strong aroma of -stew.</p> - -<p>The woman stirred the pots with a hand-cut wooden -spoon. She tasted the stew and sat down, leaning forward -toward the men. “Tonight I will finish the coats,” she -said. “By morning it will be two nights of sleep and -plenty of food to give you strength. You better go.”</p> - -<p>Tim said, “We have to go, ma’am, much as we might -like to stay. About the coats, have you used all your -blankets to make them?”</p> - -<p>The woman’s brows went up. “I never did see such men -as you. I got two left, and one’s aplenty. I mean to cut -the other one into strips and roll them for carrying. You<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -can wrap your feet and legs when the snow gets deep -enough that the cloth won’t wear right through.”</p> - -<p>“But, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“It’s windy hell you boys are lookin’ for. Take my word. -Don’t be soft in your heart toward me.”</p> - -<p>After supper the woman leaned over the rough plank -table that stood at the side of the room, near a pallet she -had made herself to sleep on. She pulled the lamp close -and blew out the flame. “I’ll have to be beggin’ some oil -from Buck the next time I go down. I can pay him with -animal skins.”</p> - -<p>Red scratched his beard. “Why don’t you spend the -winters in the village, ma’am? Slim and I are worried about -you being alone up here.”</p> - -<p>The wind whistled at the corner of the cabin and the -fire blazed up, filling the room with pumpkin light and -jagged shadows. “I spent last winter in the village,” she -said, “but I figured to spend this winter here. Nate and I, -we made this place with our own two hands and a few odd -tools. We lived in the village once and Nate used to hunt. -But everyone else was a hunter, too, so we couldn’t make -out that way. One day he says, ‘We’re cuttin’ loose from -this village, little girl. We’ll build a cabin in the mountains -where no man can tie a string on me.’” She faltered. “But -you may be right.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes grew fierce in the flickering light and her hand -went pale where it gripped the table. “Jus’ last fall I was -out by the shed when two wild men came hoopin’ and -hollerin’ out of the mountain, Rebel guerillas they was. -They wanted more than food and drink, it didn’t take -much to see. I had my musket and I yelled loud and clear -for them to turn away but they jus’ kep comin’, laughin’ -and hollerin’, so I picked them off, the one behind and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> -then the other. I buried them in the ravine over yonder.”</p> - -<p>The woman gave Red and Tim a desperate look. “Did -I do right? I never told another soul.”</p> - -<p>Red nodded. “You gave them their chance to turn -away.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t want to keep their horses, and I buried their -rifles with them. I slapped the horses off down the trail -toward the village.” She turned to the fire. “I’m a one-man -woman. There’s no changin’ that.”</p> - -<p>Tim said quietly, “Spend the winter in the village. -Don’t be too proud for that.”</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>Next morning all three woke just after dawn. They went -about their chores as if they might have lived together in -the cabin for a month or two. Tim fetched wood and -built a fire. Red pumped up water and set a kettle on -the hearth, hung the covered pot of mush on the crane, -put on logs and stirred the fire to life. The woman put -on her doeskin jacket and went outside. When she came -back she said, “Laws, it’s nippy outside.”</p> - -<p>Tim went to the window in the front of the cabin. The -frame had been made to hold a sash that must have been -used before. A few flakes of paint still clung to the wood. -Tim studied the frost that had formed inside the glass -at the bottom. The crystals had made an intricate pattern, -like ghostly seaweed frozen in place. The morning light -made the crystals sparkle like crushed diamonds. Tim -turned away and fetched his toothbrush. He and Red -took a cup of water and a pinch of salt and went outside.</p> - -<p>After breakfast, when Tim looked at the window, the -pattern of frost had disappeared, dissolved by the heat of -the fire. The woman had mended their haversacks and -finished the overcoats. They were great, heavy garments,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> -the color of natural wool. “They’ll blend with the snow,” -the woman said.</p> - -<p>She packed the haversacks with meat and cornmeal. -They could make corncakes. She tied a long coil of blanket -wool to each sack. After breakfast she got up from the -table and went to a corner and brought out a can. “I almost -forgot the cookin’ pot,” she said. “Can’t cook without -a pot.”</p> - -<p>The men got up and put on the coats, admiring the -woman’s handiwork while she helped them on with the -haversacks. “I reckon the coats make the straps set different -than before,” she said.</p> - -<p>She rolled the blankets and the poncho and secured them -over the packs with lengths of thong.</p> - -<p>Tim said, “You’re spoiling us, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“Old Smoky won’t spoil you none, that’s sure.”</p> - -<p>She looked them over and turned away. She put on her -jacket and boots, took some mittens and a couple of -mufflers from a backless old chair in a corner by the fire. -“Take the mufflers,” she said. “Nate went larkin’ off when -it was warm. He said the Yanks would fix him up with -clothes.”</p> - -<p>She hung a pair of stoppered gourds around her shoulder -and a pouch and a little sack of meal. She picked up her -musket and took the pistol from the table. “Redbeard, you -take first turn with the pistol.”</p> - -<p>Red said, “No, ma’am, you keep the Colt.”</p> - -<p>“I got the musket. It’s notched already and I’ll notch it -agin if I must. Take the pistol. It’s loaded and there’s a -flask of powder and some extra balls at the top of Slim’s -pack.”</p> - -<p>Red put out his hand and took the revolver.</p> - -<p>“I decided to spend the winter in town.” She looked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> -up at Tim. “It was what you said about bein’ too proud -that changed my mind. Nate used to say I was foolish -proud sometimes.”</p> - -<p>All three went outside, the woman carrying the musket. -When the men turned to say good-bye she said, “I’m goin’ -too.”</p> - -<p>Red said, “But, ma’am....”</p> - -<p>It was the first time they had seen her smile. “Don’t -worry. I won’t foller you to camp. I jus’ want to set -your feet in the right direction.”</p> - -<p>The ground rose slowly, dipped to a shallow valley, then -climbed again to the ridge that stood against the sky like -a shoulder of God.</p> - -<p>Tim said, “Go back if you want. You can point out the -way from here.”</p> - -<p>Her tanned cheeks had a ruddy glow. She ran her hand -through her hair and tossed her head. She looked up at -the ridge, then down at the frozen ground. “I was goin’ -huntin’, anyway. I’ll walk with you a while. I don’t know -Knoxville, never been there, but I know which way it is, all -right.”</p> - -<p>They were toughened by the walking of the past few -weeks and rested now and well fed, so that the climbing -wasn’t bad at all. The slopes abounded in mountain laurel -and ginseng. Tim thought how the place must look in -spring with the shrubs and nut trees in bloom.</p> - -<p>They traversed a half mile of loose rock, deep and uncertain -on a steep slope.</p> - -<p>They stopped at the top and rested a minute. Red -grabbed at a sapling for support and the woman said, -“Don’t trust yourself to little trees. If the roots give way -they take you with them down the mountain.” She sniffed -the air. “Snow soon.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>Red said, “That ridge must be six miles from here, or -more.”</p> - -<p>The woman looked back. Her bright eyes swept the -valley once and she picked up her musket and moved forward.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE</h2> -</div> - -<p>There was snow lying in patches on the northwest side -of the mountain. The shoulders of rock were scarred and -barren except where earth had clung to sheltered places, -nourishing moss and scraggly pines.</p> - -<p>To the west the rugged land lay under their hands, -pounded out by the dizzy height, going on across the miles -until it met the sky. The branches of the distant trees, -stripped bare by cold and wind, wove a feathery texture -of browns and reds, deep violets interrupted by the dusky -green of spruce and pine, tall enough, no doubt, to dwarf -a man, but in the distance seeming no bigger than scraps of -moss.</p> - -<p>Red stood with his hands on his hips, his beard pointing -toward the distant land, his face showing wonder and fear, -as if God had taken him by the hand.</p> - -<p>The woman was first to turn away. There was love in -her face. “It was here I saw the last of Nate.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>Tim’s thought was so strong it almost said itself out -loud. She knows he won’t come back.</p> - -<p>The woman pointed in the direction they’d come. Just -to the left of a slate-colored shadow on a hill far below they -saw a curl of smoke. “Smoke from our cabin,” she said. -“I left a fire on the hearth, remember?”</p> - -<p>As they watched the smoke, snow began to fall. The -flakes were small. They could almost be counted at first, -little pinpoints of white. Then they filled the distance, -and the hills and ridges all around were washed across with -a milky haze. The flakes came faster. They were larger -now, and one by one the landmarks were engulfed in a -sea of white, leaving just the swirl of snow and silence -everywhere.</p> - -<p>The woman patted her sack of meal. “Time for food,” -she said.</p> - -<p>They found a sheltered place in an angle of rock and -the men gathered bits of dead pine for a fire. The woman -took off her mittens and worked with her swift, brown -hands, slicing meat from a skin pouch that hung at her -side and stirring cornmeal into the can.</p> - -<p>When they finished eating, the woman scraped the can -clean, rinsed it and heated more water. She sprinkled in -tan-colored crystals of sugar to make a kind of cambric -tea. “I’d lace it with liquor from your little flask but you’d -best keep that for future needs.”</p> - -<p>The snow was falling more slowly now. The woman -motioned toward the west. “The hills we saw a while ago,” -she said. “Nate told me some are jus’ as high as this one, -though they don’t look so big from here. I reckon they’re -jus’ as windy and jus’ as cold.”</p> - -<p>As they packed up their things the snow stopped falling -and the air was like crystal again. The sun burst free from -the clouds and made the ground a burning white blanket.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>The woman pointed west. “You see that distant pass? -Knoxville’s through that way. Old Buck told Nate. Old -Buck went there many a time. If I’d asked him, Buck -would have showed you the way. That’s jus’ the trouble. -Buck is old and kinda tired. He should keep himself warm -in wintertime.”</p> - -<p>The smoldering fire sent a thin signal into the air. The -woman kicked at the sticks and smoke twisted lightly -against the sky. The woman looked at the men with steady -eyes, and when she saw that Red was about to speak she -turned without a word, and walking slowly the way they -had come, slanted down the hill with the sure step of a -mountain creature. She turned back once and stood a few -seconds against the whiteness. A gust of wind riffled her -hair like the mane of a coal-black mare. She raised her -hand and turned away and disappeared.</p> - -<p>Tim was just about to reach for the compass to find the -direction in case the snow closed in again when he heard -the sound of horses’ hoofs against the shoulder of rock and -voices raised.</p> - -<p>Red brought out the Colt revolver and held it at his -side. The jingle came clear, and grunting and talking—rough -as grit—somewhere beyond the rock. One voice -broke clear. “I think they’re jus’ behind that rock.”</p> - -<p>A shot sang out from the other side of the ridge. Red -moved fast and quiet around the rock, with Tim just behind. -They heard a man say “God amighty!” An answering -shot split the air.</p> - -<p>Tim and Red rose slowly, so that they could see beyond -the rock. Two men had dismounted. They were bending -over a fallen third. A short grisled man, built like a gorilla, -held a rifle at the ready, and the other—a young, dark-haired -man—clutched a shotgun in his hand. Red took aim -and caught the short man square in the head. The man’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> -body slumped to the ground and two of the horses rose on -their hind legs, whinnied and bolted in terror. As the third -man grabbed at the bridle of his horse Red straightened -up, holding the revolver. Suddenly he lost his footing on -a slick of snow and sprawled on his face, the pistol spurting -out from under him.</p> - -<p>Tim reached the third man at a bound and knocked him -flat with a blow that sent his shotgun spinning into the -snow. Red gained his feet as the man rolled over. He -leveled the pistol at the man’s head. The man went pale -and raised his hands.</p> - -<p>Tim said, “I’ll see to Missus Flint.”</p> - -<p>Tim followed her footprints across the snow. She lay -face down, a still, dark shape against the glare. As he -walked a numbness moved along his legs and the pumping -of his heart beat like thunder in his ears.</p> - -<p>She was quiet as night and her pulse was still. He turned -her over. Blood had soaked her doeskin jacket and stained -the snow. With his thumb and middle finger he felt for -her eyelids and gently closed her unseeing eyes.</p> - -<p>He rose to his feet, a fist of anger burning in his chest, -and walked slowly toward Red and the other man.</p> - -<p>When the man saw Tim’s face he started to shake. Tim -reached out his hand and took the revolver. He pointed it -straight at the man’s heart. “Who killed the woman?”</p> - -<p>“Not me,” the man breathed.</p> - -<p>“You lie.”</p> - -<p>The man sank to the ground, his knees skidding foolishly -in the snow. “Oh no. Great God,” he screamed, -swaying and gesturing toward the stocky man. “It was -Billy, there. Sure enough it was. And even so, the woman -shot first.”</p> - -<p>Red said, “I believe he speaks the truth.”</p> - -<p>The man stopped swaying. “I tolt the truth. They<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -teased me cruel about my shootin’.” He jerked his head -in the direction of the shotgun. “Else why would they -have given me that crooked piece?” The man pointed to -one of his eyes. “Look here at my wanderin’ eye....”</p> - -<p>Red said, “Shut your face.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO</h2> -</div> - -<p>Red slept, but Tim was too cold to sleep. He looked up -at the boughs of the sheltering tree. He gazed into the -cold night sky. A full moon was shining somewhere behind -the pines. The wind moaned softly in the boughs, -filling the valley with mournful music. The brighter stars -winked clear in the crystal air. Tim rolled out of his -blanket and moved away from their camp, swinging his -arms and working his knees to restore circulation.</p> - -<p>He sat in the open on a jagged rock and picked out fragments -of constellations. There was Pegasus to the west, -and if he turned his head he could see Orion’s Belt above -a hill in the east.</p> - -<p>This was their second night under the stars since the -death of the woman.</p> - -<p>Tim had kept his mind on things that lay ahead. He -had dreamed of home, of sleigh rides and skating on the -pond behind the schoolhouse and thawing out in the blacksmith -shop.</p> - -<p>Now he remembered a winter so cold that the river had -frozen clear across. He and Peter Gleason had skated all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> -the way to the other side. Cold was fine, as long as you -could thaw out, sitting by a fire with a cup of chocolate in -your hand.</p> - -<p>For the first time he let himself think back to the thing -that had happened on the ridge.</p> - -<p>They had stripped the cartridges off the dead men and -taken their firearms. They had left the bodies where they -had fallen. They had ordered the third man to mount his -horse and had sent him on his way, burbling off a stream -of thanks for sparing his life.</p> - -<p>The ground had been frozen solid and they’d had no -tools for digging, anyway, so they had buried Missus Flint -under a cairn and set her musket, muzzle down, in the top -of the pile of rocks.</p> - -<p>When they had turned to go Tim had looked back -again the way they had come. Smoke had still curled above -the cabin.</p> - -<p>Tim studied the stars again, trying to remember the -pictures they made and which way was right side up. Then -he gave it up and went back to his blanket. As he lay there -he remembered a far-off day in spring when he had walked -with Kate. All at once she had picked up her skirts and -started to run.</p> - -<p>He remembered having been in a solemn frame of mind. -Somehow he hadn’t caught her spirit. She had stood in the -path and waited for him, suddenly serious, trying to share -his solemnity.</p> - -<p>Now he closed his eyes and her face came clear. He drew -his blanket close around him and went to sleep.</p> - -<p>Tim woke up before the sun had cleared the hills. Snow -had fallen during the night and their blankets and coats -were sifted over with flakes. Tim looked down at his feet, -wrapped now in the strips of blanket wool. The cold had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> -numbed his feet and hands, and when he felt his face -it seemed like ice.</p> - -<p>He woke Red and they made breakfast. When they -finished eating they pushed on into the wilderness of white. -When they had walked for an hour or so they came to a -stream that tumbled through a gorge, into a valley below. -Their route lay across the stream and they were scouting -along it to find a crossing when Tim caught sight of something -moving in the trees in the valley below. He grabbed -Red’s sleeve and together they watched as three horsemen -made their way south along the valley. The horsemen were -several hundred yards below, but the air was clear and the -sun struck their uniforms. This time there was no room -for doubt. They were Yankee soldiers.</p> - -<p>Red cupped his hands and shouted. The horsemen -stopped, turning their faces up. Tim waved his arms above -his head and he and Red jumped carelessly into the water. -They ran down the hill, slipping and skidding on the -snow-covered rock, their firearms knocking against the -coats Missus Flint had made them. The ends of their -mufflers flapped behind them.</p> - -<p>As they approached the horsemen they looked into the -muzzles of Yankee firearms.</p> - -<p>One held a pistol. He wore no visible insignia. He had -a black pointed beard and bright eyes. The visor of his -cap stuck out from under a blue knitted scarf that was tied -around his head. He carried a sword in a brightly polished -sheath. “Stop there,” he said, “and raise your hands. Who -are you and where have you come from?”</p> - -<p>Red gave their names. “We escaped from a jail in -Columbia, South Carolina. We came across the mountains.”</p> - -<p>The man smiled faintly, studying their overcoats.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> -“Looks as if you might have had some help along the way.”</p> - -<p>Tim nodded. “Without help we wouldn’t be alive.”</p> - -<p>One of the men was a sergeant. He sported a big sand-colored -mustache. Beside him, sitting his horse a little -stiffly, was a very young man who reminded Tim of Private -Greene. They both held rifles.</p> - -<p>The man with the pistol, who must be an officer, turned -to the young man. “Corporal, relieve the gentlemen of -their arms.”</p> - -<p>As the corporal dismounted the officer looked sharply -at the rifle and the shotgun. Red said, “Both of us carry -revolvers in the right-hand pockets of our coats.”</p> - -<p>As the corporal took their arms the man with the pistol -looked straight at Tim. “Where did you get the rifle and -shotgun and the pistols?”</p> - -<p>“We had a fight with some guerillas back in the mountains. -Our guide shot one and Lieutenant Kelly here shot -another. The third was a poor excuse for a man. We took -his shotgun and let him go.”</p> - -<p>The officer questioned them closely about their capture -and asked to see their identifications. They showed him -their papers and opened their coats and showed him their -tattered uniforms. When the officer was satisfied that they -were neither deserters nor spies he holstered his pistol and -motioned toward the man with the sandy mustache. “This -is Sergeant Scully, and the man who searched you is Corporal -Simms. I’m Captain Platt. I’m thankful we found -you alive. My detachment is quartered in the farmhouse -of a loyal Unionist, just north of here. The man has gone -to war. We’ve been resting a while with his wife and -children. We start for Knoxville tomorrow. We’ll take -you along.”</p> - -<p>Tim said, “We heard that Knoxville was under siege.”</p> - -<p>“The siege was raised in early December.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>Red asked, “Where were you bound when we caught -sight of you?”</p> - -<p>The captain laughed. “We were going out to find a -tree.”</p> - -<p>“A tree?”</p> - -<p>The sergeant grinned. “Tomorrow is Christmas.”</p> - -<p>Red said, “Well, fancy that. Did you say there were -children at the farm?”</p> - -<p>“Three girls and two boys. Attractive little devils.” The -captain looked down at the feet of the men who stood in the -snow. “You must be perishing from cold. Sergeant Scully -and I will take you back and set you by the fire. Corporal -Simms can find us a tree.”</p> - -<p>The corporal touched his cap. When he smiled he was -even more like Greene. “You can trust me, sir. The other -boys would have my hide if I came back with a scraggly -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>tree.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="large">Post Script:</span></p> - -<p>Captain Chamberlain, on whose story this book is based, -was not as fortunate as Lieutenants Bradford and Kelly. -He was recaptured and returned in chains to Richland -Jail, where he was imprisoned until late in 1864.</p> - -<p>There is a sequel to his story.</p> - -<p>Captain Chichester, the Confederate officer to whom -Chamberlain had surrendered his sword, survived the war -and lived until 1900. One of his last wishes was that -Captain Chamberlain’s sword, which Chichester had -prized during his lifetime, be returned to its original -owner. Captain Chamberlain had died seven years before -but the sword was returned to his widow. It is still a -proud possession of the Chamberlain family.</p> - -<p>At the time of the return of the sword there were articles -in the Charleston and Hartford papers telling of the gallantry -of both men, their experiences in battle and the fate -of the sword.</p> - -<p>By almost mystical coincidence, Captain Chichester’s -father had been born in Connecticut and his mother’s -maiden name had been Chamberlain. The two captains -had been born in the same year, within two months of -each other.</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="large"><i>Acknowledgments</i></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Ruth C. North and Rodman W. Chamberlain, -two of Captain Chamberlain’s ten children, were especially -helpful in gathering material for this book. Most of -the volumes listed in the bibliography were found in the -New York Public Library, and I owe a vote of thanks to -Mr. Gilbert A. Cam for putting the facilities of the Frederick -Lewis Allen Room at my disposal so that I would -have a place to study and work from these volumes.</p> - -<p>Thanks to my brother Duncan Burchard for information -about small arms of the Civil War period, and to my -friend Victor Darnell for checking my descriptions of -Naval vessels.</p> - -<p>For their cordial help, thanks to Kate Swift and James -Pickering of the American Museum—Hayden Planetarium.</p> - -<p>A special vote of thanks goes to my friends in South -Carolina: Jack Snow of St. Helena Island and Howard -Danner of the Beaufort Historical Society, Robert Ochs, -Chairman of the Department of History at the University -of South Carolina, Lester Inabinett of the South Caroliniana -Library and Virginia Rugheimer of the Charleston -Library Society.</p> -</div></div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="large">Bibliography:</span></p> - -<p>Black, Robert C., <i>The Railroads of the Confederacy</i>. The -University of North Carolina Press, 1952.</p> - -<p>Carse, Robert, <i>Blockade</i>. Rinehart and Co., 1958.</p> - -<p>Cochran, Hamilton C., <i>Blockade Runners of the Confederacy</i>. -Bobbs Merrill, 1958.</p> - -<p><i>The Columbia City Directory</i>, Columbia, South Carolina, -1860.</p> - -<p>Drake, J. Madison, <i>Fast and Loose in Dixie</i>. The Author’s -Publishing Company, 1880.</p> - -<p>Emilio, Luis F., <i>A Brave Black Regiment</i>, History of the -54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. The Boston Book -Company, 1891.</p> - -<p><i>History of the Seventh Connecticut Volunteer Infantry</i>, -compiled by Stephen Walkley, 1905.</p> - -<p>Isham, Davidson and Furness, <i>Prisoners of War and Military -Prisons</i>. Lyman and Cushing, 1890.</p> - -<p>Knox, Dudley W., <i>A History of the United States Navy</i>. -G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1948.</p> - -<p>Manucy, Albert, <i>Artillery Through the Ages</i>. U. S. Government -Printing office.</p> - -<p>Sabre, G. E., <i>Nineteen Months a Prisoner of War</i>. The -American News Company, 1865.</p> - -<p>Swanberg, W. A., <i>First Blood</i>. Charles Scribners Sons, -1957.</p> - -<p>Tourtellotte, Jerome, <i>Windham County Boys in the Seventh -Connecticut</i>, A History of Company K. 1910.</p> - -<p>Trumbull, H. Clay, <i>The Knightly Soldier</i>. John D. Wattles, -1892.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center"><i>Other</i></p> - -<p>In addition to the books listed on p. 187, use was made -of the letters of Captain V. B. Chamberlain, written during -his imprisonment in Richland Jail. Transcripts of -these letters were lent me by Captain Chamberlain’s son, -Rodman W. Chamberlain. Microfilm copies of these -transcripts are now on file at the South Caroliniana Library -in Columbia, South Carolina.</p> - -<p>Rodman W. Chamberlain’s unpublished paper, entitled -“The Return of the Sword,” furnished the information -used in the epilogue.</p> - -<p>The circumstances of Captain Chamberlain’s capture -and escape have been reconstructed as accurately as possible, -but the character of Lieutenant Timothy Bradford, -Chamberlain’s counterpart, is entirely fictional, as are -most of the characters in this book.</p> - -<p>The Confederate Captain Chichester lived and fought -at Fort Wagner. The Union officers, General Strong and -Colonel Rodman, lived and fought on Morris Island.</p> - -<p>Captain Senn, Commandant of the Post Guard at Richland -Jail, and Corporal “Bull Head” Addison were real -people. They have been represented as they were described -by men who were imprisoned in Richland Jail in -Columbia, S. C. The original Richland Jail no longer -stands, but the author has constructed it from descriptions -of prisoners and the drawings of Major Henry Ward Camp, -Captain Chamberlain’s companion in escape. Major Camp -was killed in action in 1864.</p> - -<p>Many of the incidents in the story are taken from history. -The ladies of Charleston served coffee and food to -Union prisoners, wanton stabbings of Union prisoners are -matters of record, and the young woman in Columbia who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> -lived across from Richland Jail and “whose heart beat for -the Union” really lived and waved her handkerchief when -the prisoners sang patriotic songs.</p> - -<p>The extent of Unionist sentiment in North Carolina -and eastern Tennessee has not been exaggerated and there -were plenty of women like “Missus” Flint.</p> - -<p>The descriptions of the map that Kate sent to Richland -Jail were based on a map she might have copied, one published -in 1861 by J. H. Colton, 172 William St., New -York. This map was also used in verifying the spelling of -the names of counties, towns, rivers etc. In most cases the -spelling of the period has been used.</p> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span></p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> - -<p class="center"><span class="large"><i>About the Author</i></span></p> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>Peter Burchard is a professional writer and illustrator.</p> - -<p>During World War II he served in the U. S. -Army Signal Corps as a radio operator on a troop -transport in the North Atlantic. His first published -drawings appeared in YANK Magazine.</p> - -<p>He graduated from the Philadelphia Museum -School of Art in 1947.</p> - -<p>His active interest in the Civil War began when -his grandfather’s diaries came into his hands. His -grandfather, William Brokaw, joined the 96th New -York Regiment at the age of sixteen, served first -as a drummer boy, fought in sixteen engagements -and was a Brevet Major when he was mustered out -in 1865.</p> - -<p>Mr. Burchard lives with his wife and three children -in a converted barn in Rockland County, -N. Y. The war experiences of his wife’s grandfather -provided the basis for <i>North by Night</i>.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> - -<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> - -<p>Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> -</div></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH BY NIGHT ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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. 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