The Tree of Appomattox Part 14
"Well, this is surely insolence," said d.i.c.k, and calling his comrades he showed them the chip. Both were interested, but Warner had admiration for its sender.
"It shows a due consideration for us," he said. "He merely warns us away as trespa.s.sers before shooting at us. And perhaps he's right. The river and the fish in it really belong to them. We're invaders. We came down here to crush rebellion, not to take away property."
"But I'm going to keep my fish, just the same," said Pennington. "You can't crush a rebellion without eating. Nor am I going to quit fishing either."
"Here comes another big white chip," said d.i.c.k.
Warner caught it on his hook and towed it in. It bore the inscription, freshly cut:
Let our river alone Take in your lines You're in danger, As you'll soon see.
It was unsigned and they stared at it in wonder.
"Do you think this is really a warning?" said Pennington, "or is it some of the fellows playing tricks on us?"
"I believe it's a warning," said Warner soberly. "Probably a farmer a little distance up the stream has been cutting wood, and these chips have come from his yard, but he didn't send them. d.i.c.k, can you tell handwriting when it's done with a knife?"
d.i.c.k looked at the chip long and critically.
"It may be imagination," he said, "but the words cut there bear some resemblance to the handwriting of Harry Kenton. He makes a peculiar L and a peculiar A and they're just the same way on this chip. The writing is different on the other chip, but on this one I believe strongly that it's Harry's."
"It looks significant to me," said Warner thoughtfully. "A mile or two farther up, this stream, so I'm told, makes an elbow, and beyond that it comes with a rush out of the mountains. Its banks are lined with woods and thickets and some of the enemy may have slipped in and launched these chips. I've a sort of feeling, d.i.c.k, that it's really your cousin and his friends who have done it."
"I incline to that belief myself," said d.i.c.k. "You know they're ready to dare anything, and they don't antic.i.p.ate any great danger, because we don't care to shoot at one another, until the campaign really begins."
"At least," said Warner, "it's best to apply to the problem a good algebraic formula. Here we are in a wood, some distance from our main camp. Messages, bearing a warning either in jest or in earnest, have come floating down from a point which may be within the enemy's country. One of the facts is x and the other is y, but what they amount to is an unknown quant.i.ty. Hence we are left in doubt, and when you're in doubt it's best to do the safe thing."
"Which means that we should go back to the camp," said d.i.c.k. "But we'll take our fish with us, that's sure."
They began to wind up their lines, but knowing that departure would be prudent they were yet reluctant to go in the face of a hidden danger, which after all might not be real.
"Suppose I climb this tree," said Pennington, indicating a tall elm, "and I may be able to get a good look over the country, while you fellows keep watch."
"Up you go, Frank," said d.i.c.k. "George and I will be on guard, pistols in one hand and fish in the other."
Pennington climbed the elm rapidly and then announced from the highest bough able to support him that he saw open country beyond, then more woods, a glimpse of the stream above the elbow, but no human being. He added that he would remain a few minutes in the tree and continue his survey of the country.
d.i.c.k's eyes had followed Frank's figure until it disappeared among the brown leaves, and he had listened to him carefully, while he was telling the result of his outlook, but his attention now turned back to the river. No more chips were floating down its stream. Nothing foreign appeared upon the clear surface of its waters, but d.i.c.k's sharp vision caught sight of something in a thicket on the far sh.o.r.e that made his heart beat.
It was but little he saw, merely the brown edge of an enormous flap- brimmed hat, but it was enough. Slade and his men undoubtedly were there- practically within the Union lines-and he was the danger! He called up the tree in a fierce sibilant whisper that carried amazingly far:
"Come down, Frank! Come down at once, for your life!"
It was a call so alarming and insistent that Pennington almost dropped from the tree. He was upon the ground, breathless, in a half minute, his fish in one hand and the pistol that he had s.n.a.t.c.hed from his belt in the other.
"What is it?" exclaimed Warner, who had not yet seen anything.
"Slade and his men are in the bush on the other side of the river. The warning was real and I've no doubt Harry sent it. They've seen Frank come down the tree! Drop flat for your lives!"
Again his tone was so compelling that the other two threw themselves flat instantly, and d.i.c.k went down with them. They were barely in time. A dozen rifles flashed from the thickets beyond the stream, but all the bullets pa.s.sed over their heads.
"Now we run for it!" exclaimed d.i.c.k, once more in that tone of compelling command. All three rose instantly, though not forgetting their fish and their fishing rods, and ran at their utmost speed for fifty or sixty yards, when at d.i.c.k's order they threw themselves flat again. Three or four more shots were fired from the thickets, but they did not come near their targets.
"Thank G.o.d for that little river in between us!" said Pennington, piously and sincerely. "Rivers certainly have their uses!"
Then they heard a sharp, shrill note blown upon a whistle.
"That's Slade recalling his men," said d.i.c.k. "I heard him use the same whistle in Mississippi and I know it. His wicked little scheme to slaughter us has failed and knowing it he prudently withdraws."
"For which, perhaps, we have a chip to thank," said Warner. "Shall we rise and run again?"
"Yes," said d.i.c.k. "I think they've gone, but fifty yards farther and n.o.body in those thickets can reach us."
They stooped as they ran, and they ran fast, but, when they dropped down again, it was behind a little hill, and they knew that all danger had pa.s.sed. The thumping of their hearts ceased, and they looked thankfully at one another.
"Our lives were in danger," said Warner proudly, "but I didn't forget my fish. See, the silver beauties!"
"And here are mine too!" said Pennington, holding up his string.
"And mine also!" said d.i.c.k.
"I don't like the way we had to run," said Warner. "We were practically within our own lines and we were compelled to be undignified. I've been insulted by that flap-brimmed scoundrel, Slade, and I shall not forget it. If he hangs upon our flank in this campaign I shall make a point of it, if I am able, to present him with a bullet."
The sound of thudding hoofs came, and Colonel Winchester and a troop galloped up.
"We heard shots!" he exclaimed. "What was it?"
d.i.c.k held up his fish.
"We've been fishing, sir," he replied, "and as you can see, we've had success, but we were interrupted by the guerrilla Slade, whom I met in Mississippi, and his men. We got off, though, unhurt, and brought our fish with us."
Colonel Winchester's troop numbered more than a hundred men, and crossing the river they beat up the country thoroughly, but they saw no Confederate sign. When he came back d.i.c.k told him all the details of the episode, and Colonel Winchester agreed with him that Harry had sent the warning.
"You'd better keep it to yourself," he said. "It's too vague and mysterious to make a peg upon which to hang anything. Since we've cleared the bush of enemies we'll go eat the fish you and your friends have caught."
Sergeant Whitley cooked them, and, as d.i.c.k and a score of others sat around the fire and ate fish for supper, they were so exuberant and chaffed so much that he forgot for the time all about Slade.
CHAPTER VII
SHERIDAN'S ATTACK
More days pa.s.sed and the army of Sheridan lay waiting at the head of the valley, apparently without any aim in view. But d.i.c.k knew that if Little Phil delayed it was with good cause. As Colonel Winchester was high in the general's confidence d.i.c.k saw the commander every day. He soon learned that he was of an intensely energetic and active nature, and that he must put a powerful rein upon himself to hold back, when he had such a fine army to lead.
Many of the younger officers expressed impatience and d.i.c.k saw by the newspapers that the North too was chafing at the delay. Newspapers from the great cities, New York, Philadelphia and Boston, reached their camp and they always read them eagerly. Criticisms were leveled at Sheridan, and from the appearance of things they had warrant, but d.i.c.k had faith in their leader. Yet another period of depression had come in the North. The loss of life in Grant's campaign through the Wilderness had been tremendous, and now he seemed to be held indefinitely by Lee in the trenches before Petersburg. The Confederacy, after so many great battles, and such a prodigious roll of killed and wounded, was still a nut uncracked, and Sheridan, who was expected to go up the valley and turn the Southern flank, was resting quietly in his camp.
Such was the face of matters, but d.i.c.k knew that, beneath, great plans were in the making and that the armies would soon stir. The more he saw of Sheridan the more he was impressed by him. He might prove to be the Stonewall Jackson of the North. Young, eager, brave, he never fell into the fault some of the other Union commanders had of overestimating the enemy. He always had a cheery word for his young officers, and when he was not poring over the maps with his lieutenant of engineers, Meigs, he was inspecting his troops, and seeing that their equipment and discipline were carried to the highest pitch. He was the very essence of activity and the army, although not yet moving, felt at all times the tonic of his presence.
Cavalry detachments were sent out on a wider circle. Slade and his men had no opportunity to come so close again, but Shepard informed d.i.c.k that he was in the mountains hemming in the valley on the west, and that the statement of his having formed a junction with a band under Skelly from the Alleghanies was true. He had seen the big man and the little man together and they had several hundred followers.
Shepard in these days showed an almost superhuman activity. He would leave the camp, disguised as a civilian, and after covering a great distance and risking his life a dozen times he would return with precious information. A few hours of rest and he was gone again on a like errand. He seemed to be burning with an inward fire, not a fire that consumed him, but a fire of triumph. d.i.c.k, who had formed a great friendship with him and who saw him often, had never known him to speak more sanguine words. Always cautious and reserved in his opinions, he talked now of the certainty of victory. He told them that the South was not only failing in men, having none to fill up its shattered ranks, but that food also was failing. The time would come, with the steel belt of the Northern navy about it and the Northern armies pressing in on every side, when the South would face starvation.