Rodney Gray was an overseer now at all events, and being one of those uneasy fellows who must have something to occupy their minds at all times, and fond of hunting, he would have been as happy and contented as he wanted to be, if there had been no such things as Home Guards in the world. The Yankees at Baton Rouge he did not bother his head about. He had charge of 400 acres of land, 100 of which were under cultivation, and fifteen work hands—just enough to bring him under the exemption clause of the Conscription Act. For the privilege of staying at home and overseeing these hands the Confederate Government demanded of him 3000 pounds of salt pork and beef, or their equivalent in bacon, and Rodney expected to furnish the meat himself. There were many hogs running loose in the woods, and as the negro driver who had The "great house" in which Rodney lived was very unlike the same dwelling on the home plantation. It was built of unhewn logs and contained two rooms, the wide hall between them being used as the dining room, both summer and winter. The kitchen, which stood a little distance away, was built of logs, and so were the negro cabins, corn-cribs, smoke houses, and the little stable in which his riding horse would find shelter in stormy weather; but taken as it stood the plantation was a valuable one, for, concealed somewhere in the dark recesses of the woods, that hemmed the cultivated fields in on all sides, were several hundred bales of cotton that was worth sixty cents a pound in Northern markets. The driver had been so careless with his work and so lax with the hands that Rodney found plenty of things demanding his attention, "Rebs for a dollar," whispered Dick. "And not Home Guards, either," replied Rodney, as the two arose from the table and walked out to meet the visitors. "They are strangers." "Well," said the foremost, who might have "Been there and came home to take a little rest," answered Rodney, feeling in his pocket for his discharge. "But everybody else isn't in the army by a long shot, as you would know if you belonged in this country. Read that, and tell me if you are out conscripting." "We're out for more serious business than that," replied the soldier, reading the discharges one after the other, and handing them back to their owners. "Any Yanks about here?" "None nearer than Baton Rouge that we know of." "How large an army have they got there?" The boys were obliged to say they couldn't tell; but they knew that General Williams had come down from Vicksburg with his whole force. "We know that, too, and are following him up to lick him." We don't know how to give an idea, in words, of the exclamation that broke from Dick Graham's lips when he heard this. It was the famous "rebel yell," long, loud, and piercing; and when the soldiers at the bars heard it they turned in their saddles and lifted their hats, and needed no other evidence to prove that Dick was or had been one of themselves. Then Dick demanded if there was going to be a fight right there in his friend's door-yard. "It'll happen somewhere about here," replied the soldier. "Better find guns, you two, and join in. It's bound to be a victory for our side and you want to share in the honor. We're going to have the Arkansas to help us, and she is a match for all the vessels the Yanks have in the river. She proved it by what she did up at Yazoo." After a little more conversation the boys learned that their visitor belonged to Breckenridge's division, which had been detached from the force at Vicksburg as soon as General Williams withdrew and Farragut started down the river, and they were simply scouting in "If you want help, why don't you bring into your ranks all the Home Guards around here?" said Rodney. "Are there Home Guards about here? I am glad to know it, for we need all the help we can raise. Who's their captain and where are his headquarters?" Rodney gave the desired information, adding that if his visitor did not think it safe to venture as far as Mooreville with the small force at his command, he and Dick would volunteer to take a message to Captain Randolph. "But you will have to put it in writing," said he, "for Tom will not believe us. And you must caution him against letting his men know that there is going to be a fight; for if they find that out they'll scatter like rats in a pantry." "Like Home Guards everywhere," replied the soldier in disgust. "I'll tell you what I'll do," said he, after thinking a moment. "I'll get a line from the colonel commanding "Oh, you needn't think to surprise the Yanks," exclaimed Dick. "They have had notice already that you are coming. But we'll get Tom out if we can." The soldier asked a few more questions that the boys could not answer satisfactorily touching the length, shape, and strength of the Federal lines at Baton Rouge, and then joined his men, who moved down the road toward Mooreville. "Did you forget Captain Roach and his conscripts?" asked Dick, when they were out of sight. "I left them out on purpose," said Rodney. "But of course I shall speak to Roach about it when we take that note to Tom Randolph. His conscripts are all my near neighbors, and mostly Union men, who wouldn't be of the least use in a fight; and, Dick," here Rodney "Oh, you traitor!" cried Dick. "You would do the same if you were in my fix. Of course there are some I would not dare speak to, for they would tell where they got the information; but those I can trust to keep a still tongue in their heads will be warned, if I can find them." The boys went back to their unfinished breakfast and ate heartily, as they had often done while men all around them were forming in line of battle and shells were bursting over their heads. But still Rodney was anxious, for the coming contest might bring great loss to his father. There were many bales of cotton concealed within a circle of a few miles of the place where he was sitting; both sides had proclaimed it contraband of war, and it seemed impossible that a line of battle could go far in any direction without discovering some of it; and the destruction of part would lead to the destruction of the whole, for some of those who lost, Mr. Randolph for instance, "That's the first encounter, and we're whipped," said Dick. "Now if the victorious Yanks come back this way—then what?" "Our discharges and passes and permits will be of no more use than so much blank paper," answered Rodney. "They'll say that if we haven't given information of some sort to the enemy already, we will do it the first "That's what I am afraid of. I don't want to go to Baton Rouge." "Neither do I; and so I am going to do as other and better men have done under similar circumstances." "Afoot or on horseback?" inquired Dick, who knew that his friend had resolved to take to the woods. "On horseback, to save our animals from being stolen, and to give color to the story that we have gone to town," replied Rodney. "Come on, for there's no telling how soon the Yanks may come down the road at a gallop." While one started for the stable yard, the other ran in to tell his black housekeeper that he was going to ride toward Mooreville, where he would remain until the Federals had left the country. Yes, there had been a sharp skirmish down there in the woods, he said in reply to the woman's anxious inquiries, the Confederates had been driven from the field, and he and Dick thought it best to get out of sight for awhile. "The Federals may not come back this way," added Rodney, "but if they do, tell the truth and don't try to pass me off for a Union man. They know as well as you do that I have served my time in the Confederate army, and there's nothing to gain by telling a different story. If anyone asks for me, you can say that I have ridden toward Mooreville." Well, he and Dick did ride toward Mooreville, but they did not go there. Not knowing how far the darkeys could be trusted, they went down the road half a mile or so, and turning into the woods hitched their horses close together so that they would not call to each other, and finally took up a position from which they could see the house and anybody who approached it. These precautions were not taken any too soon, for the Federals did scout back that way, and when they came in sight they were riding at top speed. They knew that a large party of horsemen had passed along the road before them, for they saw the prints of many hoofs in the dust. Some of them kept on without drawing rein, while others went into the house and all Their next visitor was a single Confederate soldier, who arrived just at dusk with a note addressed to "Captain Thomas Randolph, C. S. A., Commdg. Mooreville Troops." This man Rodney took into the house and fed as if he had been a long-lost brother, for he was anxious to learn something about the battle that was soon to take place; but, although the messenger said he was orderly at headquarters, he could or would give very little information. Breckenridge was rapidly feeling his way toward the city, he said; he would soon be reinforced by the command of General Ruggles, which would be picked up at Camp Pinckney, and with the Arkansas to help "Hallo, boys!" exclaimed Tom, with great apparent cordiality, while Mrs. Randolph shook hands with them one after the other. "You don't know how I have longed to see you both in order to——" "That's all right," interposed Rodney, who knew there wasn't a word of truth in what Tom had set out to say. "But if you will excuse me—here is an order that I was requested to place in your hands." "Who's got any right to order me around?" exclaimed Tom, taking the note and fixing his gaze upon the writing on the outside. "'Captain Thomas Randolph, C. S. A.,'" he read aloud. "Somebody has made a big mistake, for I don't belong to the army of the Confederate States, and never did. What's in it?" "I don't know," answered Rodney; while Mrs. Randolph suggested that it might be a good plan for him to open it and find out. Tom did so with evident reluctance, and before he had fairly had time to make himself master of its contents, he turned as white as a sheet and fell heavily into the nearest chair. "Oh, my dear boy! What is the matter? What could have disturbed you so?" cried his mother, who was really alarmed. "I'll not obey it!" shouted Captain Tom, as soon as he could speak. "Who is this Colonel Clark, who takes it upon himself to command me to hold my company ready to move at a moment's notice, and what does he want of the company anyhow?" "No doubt he wants you to help——" began Rodney. "But how does he know that there is such a fellow as I am in the world, and that I command a company of State troops?" continued Tom, who was almost beside himself with terror. Acting on his own responsibility and serving under the eye of a Confederate officer were two widely different things. His mother took the note from his hand and read it, and she, too, became visibly affected. "What can be the meaning of it?" she asked of Rodney. "It means that there is going to be a battle somewhere in this vicinity, and that Tom must bring his men out to help," was the reply. Rodney had predicted just such a scene as this and was prepared to enjoy it. "A battle?" gasped Mrs. Randolph. "Somewhere in this vicinity!" echoed Tom. "That's what they tell me, and indeed there has been a skirmish already. Breckenridge is coming here to drive the Yankees Tom and his mother were too amazed to speak. They stared stupidly at the bearer of these evil tidings, and listened in a dazed sort of way while he told what he had heard and seen since morning. There was one thing Tom and his mother could not understand, and that was how Colonel Clark, whoever he might be, knew there was a company of Home Guards at Mooreville and that Tom was commander of them. But of course Rodney did not enlighten them on that point. "You enlisted for just such work as this," said he. "No, I didn't!" shouted Tom. "And what's more, I won't go. I'm as close to the Yankees as I want to be, and besides I don't belong to the service any longer. I've resigned." This was news to the boys, who could scarcely refrain from showing how surprised they were to hear it. They were disappointed as well, for if Tom told the truth they would lose the fun of hearing how he took to the bushes to escape duty. "Of course if your resignation has been accepted by the Governor," said Rodney, "why, then——" "It hasn't been accepted yet," replied Tom, speaking before he thought. "I only sent it to-day." "Then you are still in the service and can be held to duty," said Dick; and Captain Tom and his mother both heard the sigh of satisfaction that escaped him as he uttered the words. "I have known men to go into action and be killed after their term of service expired." "But I won't do it, I bet you," whined Tom, with tears in his eyes. "Do you think it will be a very hard fight?" "It can't help it; it's bound to be, and you'll see more dead and wounded men lying around than you—— Gracious! I'm glad they can't call on you and me, Dick." "Why, won't you have to go?" faltered Mrs. Randolph. "No, ma'am. We showed our discharges to-day, and they never said a word about ordering us out. They can't, for we have served our time." This was the heaviest blow yet, and Captain Tom came so near wilting under it that Rodney's heart smote him and he determined to take his leave. So he got upon his feet, and Dick followed his example. "What will they do to Tom if he fails to obey this order?" asked Mrs. Randolph, who, in all the trying ordeals through which she had passed on her cowardly son's account, had never before been so badly frightened. "I couldn't obey it if I wanted to," cried Tom. "My men are scattered for miles through the country, and I couldn't spend the night in hunting them up." "They may call it disobedience of orders if you don't do it," replied Rodney, who wanted to laugh. "If I were in your place I would make the effort." "And run the risk of being shot? But suppose my men refuse to turn out?" said Tom, a bright idea coming into his mind. "Then you will be blameless, and all you have to do will be to report to the colonel and tell him that you are ready for any duty he may assign you." "And can't I stay at home any way I can fix it?" inquired Tom, who made no effort to conceal his terror. "I wouldn't. What if some of the colonel's troopers should find you skulking here when you ought to be in the front rank? Or suppose the battle should be fought on your plantation. Wouldn't you——" "Baton Rouge is not on our plantation." "I know, but a battle sometimes ends a good many miles from where it begins, and the one that's coming is as likely to be fought here as anywhere else. And if that should happen, wouldn't you rather have a musket in your hands than go skulking through the bushes trying to keep out of danger? I would a hundred times over. But really we must be going. Good-night." Rodney and his companion bowed themselves to the door and went out, and Captain Tom and his mother sat in their chairs looking at each other and listening to the clatter of the receding hoofs. When it died away altogether Tom jumped to his feet in great excitement. "We never once thought to ask them where they got that order, or why it was sent by their hands instead of by the hands of one of that colonel's own men," he fairly sputtered. "Mother, it's an infamous trick, and there isn't going to be any fight. I'll remember Rodney Gray for this and other things he has done to me—you see if I don't!" "I hope you are duly ashamed of yourself for frightening that poor woman so terribly," said Dick, as he and Rodney galloped out of the yard and turned their horses toward the village. "Why didn't she stay out of the room?" retorted Rodney. "We sent in word that we desired to see Captain Tom privately, but she didn't take the hint. So Tom thought he couldn't spend the night in riding about the country. Well, we've got to, if we do the work we set out to do." The first part of that work was to call upon Captain Roach, who had excited Tom Randolph's ire by accepting Rodney's invitation to dinner, and the next to warn some of the Union men whom he had conscripted. The "You ought to do duty or shed that uniform," said the boy bluntly. "You can't assemble your conscripts now, and if you could, where would you find men to guard them to Camp Pinckney? You can only show your good-will by reporting at the camp; and if I were in your place, I think I should start the first thing in the morning. If you delay, you will be liable to be cut off by Federal scouting parties. Have you seen any Yanks about here to-day?" Captain Roach replied that he hadn't seen or heard of any, and Rodney went on to tell about the skirmish that had taken place near his plantation, and how he and Dick had taken to the woods and escaped being caught Tom Randolph was hardly out of bed the next morning before he was made aware that there was some truth in Rodney Gray's story. A squad of Federal cavalry went by the house on a keen jump, and about an hour behind them a larger squad of Confederates went past at the same rapid gait. Tom wasn't soldier enough to know that these were nothing but scouts, and in his ignorance supposed that the battle had been fought while he was asleep, and that the Confederates had driven The attack on Baton Rouge was made the next morning at daylight, and although Rodney and Dick heard little of it and saw less, they had some hospital work on their hands. The heat was intense, and everywhere along the line of march men fell exhausted out of the ranks, and were taken in and cared for by the planters. Rodney's house and door-yard were filled with soldiers who could not go any farther toward the enemy, although they recovered their strength and power of action very suddenly when it became known that there was a possibility of the enemy's cavalry coming toward them. The attack, which was so successful at first that the Federal camps were captured or burned, failed utterly in the end, and at noon the fight was over and the Confederates were in full retreat. The Arkansas did not come down to help with her big guns, and if she had she might have met a warmer reception than she bargained for, for there were five gunboats in the river, including the iron-clad Essex. These took an earnest part in the fight while waiting for the Arkansas, their fire being directed by an army signal The closing scene of the fight was enacted the next morning. The Essex went up the river six miles, found the terrible Arkansas, with her ten heavy guns and 180 picked men, hard and fast aground, and pounded her so severely that in fifteen minutes she was set on fire and abandoned. She blew up when the fire reached her magazine, but she left others behind which made themselves known and feared before the war was over. |