The Red Acorn Part 33

h.e.l.l, hit becomes all the more strikin'. Hit seems ter me somethin' like what I've heered 'em read 'bout in the Bible, whar they went on feastin'

an' singin', an' dancin' an' frolickin', an' the like, an' at midnight the inimy broke through the walls of ther city, an' put 'em all ter the sword, even while they wuz settin' round thar tables, with ther drinkin'

cups in ther hands."

"To think what a storm is about to break upon this scene of happiness and mirth-making!" said Rachel, with a shudder.

"Yes, an' they seem ter want ter do the very things thet'll show ther contempt o' righteousness, an' provoke the wrath o' the Lord. Thar, where ye see thet house, all lit up from the bas.e.m.e.nt ter the look-out on the ruf, is whar one o' the most 'ristocratic families in all Tennessee lives. There datter is bein' married to-night, an'

Major-Gineral Polk, the biggest gun in all these 'ere parts, next ter ole Bragg, an' who is also 'Piscopalian Bishop o' Tennessee, does the splicin'. They've got ther parlors, whar they'll dance, carpeted with 'Merican flags, so thet the young bucks an' gals kin show ther despisery of the banner thet wuz good enough for ther fathers, by trampin' over hit all night. But we'll show hit ter 'em in a day or two whar they won't feel like cuttin' pigeon-wings over hit. Ye jes stand still an'

see the salvation o' the Lord."

"I hope we will," said Rachel, her horror of the storm that was about to break giving away to indignation at the treatment of her country's flag.

"Shan't we go on? My long ride has made me very tired and very hungry, and I know my horse is the same."

Shortly after crossing the river they pa.s.sed a large tent, with a number of others cl.u.s.tered around it. All were festooned with Rebel flags, and brilliantly lighted. A band came up in front of the princ.i.p.al one and played the "Bonnie Blue Flag."

"Thet's ole Gineral Bragg's headquarters," explained Fortner. "He's the king bee of all the Rebels in these heah parts, an' they think he kin 'bout make the sun stand still ef he wants ter."

They cantered on into the town, and going more slowly through the great public square and the more crowded streets, came at last to a modest house, standing on a corner, and nearly hidden by vines and shrubbery.

A peculiar knock caused the door to open quickly, and before Rachel was hardly aware of it, she was standing inside a comfortable room, so well lighted that her eyes took some little time to get used to such a change.

When they did so she saw that she was in the presence of a slender, elderly woman, whose face charmed her.

"This is yer Aunt Debby Brill," said Fortner, dryly, "who ye came so fur ter see, an' who's bin 'spectin' ye quite anxiously."

"Ye're very welcome, my dear," said Aunt Debby, after a moment's inspection which seemed to be entirely satisfactory. "Jest lay off yer things thar on the bed, an' come out ter supper. I know ye're sharp-set.

A ride from Nashville sech a day ez this is mouty good for the appet.i.te, an' we've hed supper waitin' ye."

Hastily throwing off her hat and gloves, she sat down with the rest, to a homely but excellent supper, which they all ate in silence. During the meal a muscular, well knit man of thirty entered.

"All clar, outside, Bill?" asked Fortner.

"All clar," replied the man. "Everybody's off on a high o' some kind."

Bill sat down and ate with the rest, until he satisfied his hunger, and then rising he felt along the hewed logs which formed the walls, until he found a splinter to serve as a tooth-pick. Using this for a minute industriously, he threw it into the fire and asked:

"Well?"

"Well," answered Fortner. "I reckon hit's ez sartin ez anything kin well be thet Wheeler's and Morgan's cavalry hez been sent off inter Kentucky, and ez thet's what Ole rosy's been waitin' fur, now's the time fur him ter put in his best licks. Ye'd better start afore midnight fur Nashville. Ye'll hev this news, an' alos thet thar's been no change in the location o' the Rebels, 'cept thet Polk's an' Kirby Smith's corps are both heah at Murfreesboro, with a strong brigade at Stewart's creek, an' another at Lavergne. Ye'd better fallin with Boscall's rijiment, which'll go out ter Lavergne to-night, ter relieve one o' the rijiments thar. Ye'd better not try to git back heah ag'in tell arter the battle.

Good by. G.o.d bless ye. Miss, ye'd better git ter bed now, ez soon ez possible, an' rest yerself fur what's comin'. We'll need every mite an'

grain of our strength."

Chapter XIX. The Battle of Stone River.

O, wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North, With your hands and your feet, and your raiment all red?

And wherefore doth your rout, send forth a joyous shout?

And whence be the grapes of the wine-press that ye tread?

O, evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit, And crimson was the juice of the vintage that we tred; For we trampled on the throng, of the haughty and the strong, Who sat in the high places and slew the saints of G.o.d.

They are here--they rush on--we are broken--we are gone-- Our left is borne before them like stubble in the blast. O, Lord, put forth thy might! O, Lord, defend the right! Stand back to back, in G.o.d's name! and fight it to the last.

--"Battle of Naseby."

The celebration of Christmas in the camps around Nashville was abruptly terminated by the reception of orders to march in the morning, with full haversacks and cartridge-boxes. The next day all the roads leading southward became as rivers flowing armed men. Endless streams of blue, thickly glinted everywhere with bright and ominous steel, wound around the hills, poured over the plains, and spread out into angry lakes wherever a Rebel outpost checked the flow for a few minutes.

Four thousand troopers under the heroic Stanley--the foam-crest on the war-billow--dashed on in advance. Twelve thousand steadily-moving infantry under the luckless McCook, poured down the Franklin turnpike, miles away to the right; twelve thousand more streamed down the Murfreesboro pike on the left, with the banner of the over-weighted Crittenden, while grand old Thomas, he whose trumpets never sounded forth retreat, but always called to victory, moved steadfast as a glacier in the center, with as many more, a sure support and help to those on either hand.

The mighty war-wave rolling up the broad plateau of the c.u.mberland was fifteen miles wide now. It would be less than a third of that when it gathered itself together for its mortal dash upon the rocks of rebellion at Murfreesboro.

It was Friday morning that the wave began rolling southward. All day Friday, and Sat.u.r.day, and Sunday, and Monday it rolled steadily onward, sweeping before it the enemy's pickets and outposts as dry sand by an incoming tide. Monday evening the leading divisions stood upon the ridge where Rachel and Fortner had stood, and looked as they did upon the lights of Murfreesboro, two miles away.

"Two days from to-morrow is New Year's," said Kent Edwards. "Dear Festival of Egg-Nogg! how sweet are thy memories. I hope the Tennessee hens are doing their duty this Winter, so that we'll have no trouble finding eggs when we get into Murfreesboro to-morrow."

"We are likely to be so busy tendering the compliments of the season to Mr. Bragg," said Harry, lightly, "that we will probably have but little time to make calls upon the lady-hens who keep open nests."

"We all may be where we'll need lots o' cold water more than anything else," said Abe grimly.

"Well," said Kent blithely, "if I'm to be made a sweet little angel I don't know any day that I would rather have for my promotion to date from. It would have a very proper look to put in the full year here on earth, and start in with the new one in a world of superior attractions."

"Well, I declare, if here isn't Dr. Denslow," said Harry, delightedly, as he recognized a horseman, who rode up to them. "How did you come here? We thought you were permanently stationed at the grand hospital."

"So I was," replied the Doctor. "So I was, at least so far as general orders could do it. But I felt that I could not be away from my boys at this supreme moment, an I am here, though the irregular way in which I detached myself from my post may require explanation at a court-martial.

Anyhow, it is a grateful relief to be away from the smell of chloride of lime, and get a breath of fresh air that is not mingled with the groans of a ward-full of sick men. It looks," he continued, with a comprehensive glance at the firmament of Rebel camp-fires that made Murfreesboro seem the center of a ruddy Milky-way, "as if the climax is at last at hand. Bragg, like the worm, will at last turn, and after a year of footraces we'll have a fight which will settle who is the superfluous cat in this alley. There is certainly one too many."

"The sooner it comes the better," said Harry firmly. "It has to be sometime, and I'm getting very anxious for an end to this eternal marching and countermarching."

"My winsome little feet," Kent Edwards put in plaintively, "are k.n.o.bby as a burglar-proof safe, with corns and bunions, all of them more tender than a maiden's heart, and painful as a mistake in a poker hand. They're the ripe fruit of the thousands of miles of side hills I've had to tramp over because of Mr. Bragg's retiring disposition. Now, if he's got the spirit of a man he'll come out from under the bed and fight me."

"O, he'll come out--he'll come out--never you fear," said Abe, sardonic as usual. "He's got a day or two's leisure now to attend to this business. A hundred thousand of him will come out. They'll swarm out o'

them cedar thickets there like gra.s.s-hoppers out of a timothy field."

"Boys," said Harry, returning after a few minutes' absence, "the Colonel says we'll go into camp right here, just as we stand. Kent, I'll take the canteens and hunt up water, if you and Abe will break some cedar boughs for the bed, and get the wood to cook supper with."

"All right," responded Kent, "I'll go after the boughs."

"That puts me in for the wood," grumbled Abe. "And, I don't suppose there's a fence inside of a mile, and if there is there's not a popular rail in it."

"And, Doctor," continued Harry, flinging the canteens over his shoulder, "you'll stay and take a cup of coffee and sleep with us to-night, won't you? The trains are all far behind, and the hospital wagon must be miles away."

"Seems to me that I've heard something of the impropriety of visiting your friends just about mealtime," said the Doctor quizzically, "but a cup of coffee just now has more charms for me than rigid etiquette, so I'll thankfully accept your kind invitation. Some day I'll reciprocate with liberality in doses of quinine."