CHAPTER XIII. UNCLE DAN MEANS BUSINESS.
Colonel Scrabble found his forces, when the attacking party had retired, somewhat scattered. With Lieutenant Whimple he had sought safety in a hollow tree, whence, after waiting four hours, he issued orders to the lieutenant to go forth and see if the Federal troops had retreated. The lieutenant took a circuitous route, walking on tiptoe, lest he should disturb the slumbers of the dead, until he reached the camp, which the Union soldiers had just left.
Lieutenant Whimple then started to return, meeting on his way Captain Fogg. One by one they picked up men, behind logs, in tree-tops, and thick cluster of bushes, until they arrived twenty in number at the colonel's head-quarters, in the hollow tree. Here a council of war was held, and it was decided to send runners through the woods to notify their scattered forces that the enemy was gone; by night one hundred and fifty men had assembled around the hollow tree. They talked, in low determined tones, and all swore to avenge their lost comrades.
Lieutenant Whimple and a score of resolute men were still scouring the woods in search of fugitives. They had approached very near the bank of the creek when the foremost man started back, saying:
"My God! Just look at that!"
"Where?" asked a dozen voices, peeping through the underbush, expecting to behold a masked battery at the least. The sun was low in the Western horizon, and our soldiers could not see the object at first.
"There," said the first speaker, "sittin' right on the bank of the creek, is the devil come out to sun himself."
They could now describe an object that might be a huge mud turtle, or might be almost any thing a lively fancy could suggest. A closer examination, however, showed it to be a little man somewhat larger than an apple dumpling, but so plastered from his head to his heels with mud that one could hardly tell whether he was black or white.
The men drew nearer the strange object and finally rushed from their concealment. The poor fellow went down on his knees and threw up his hands imploringly. He was covered with the very blackest of Virginia mud, except great, white rings around the eyes and mouth, which gave a a most horrible expression to the features.
"Oh! have mercy, mercy—hem, hem!—have mercy!" he gasped, clasping his hands and closing his eyes, "and I will quit this unholy cause."
"Why, hallo, Corporal Diggs?" cried Lieutenant Whimple. At sound of that familiar voice, Mr. Diggs bounded to his feet, smeared as he was, threw his arms round the speaker's neck and wept for joy.
"Oh! Whimple, Whimple, Whimple! I never expected to behold your face again. Oh! my dear, dear Whimple, you're not killed, are you? Tell me that you are not dead!"
Whimple assured him that not only was he alive but in good health; after allowing the corporal time to recover, they picked up a few more men in the woods, also about forty horses, and returned.
Lieutenant Tompkins, who had been out in search of scattered men, now returned with the sergeant's squad, the Sergeant's head bandaged.
A hundred curious eyes were turned toward Whimple's squad as they came in; but it was not so much the numbers of the squad that attracted their attention, as the mud covered object that walked in their midst, in regard to which various conjectures were hazarded.
About three hundred and seventy-five men were gathered around the Colonel's head-quarters, the hollow tree, before nightfall. Something must be done, all agreed. There were several men in the country, the Colonel said, who must either take the oath of allegiance to the Southern cause or suffer death for their disloyalty. Several names were mentioned, among them that of Dan Martin.
"The hunter of Twin Mountains?" asked Oleah Tompkins.
"Yes," said Lieutenant Whimple, who had suggested the name.
"He is an old friend of mine," said Oleah.
"Well, but, Lieutenant Tompkins, we can't afford to screen all your friends," said the Colonel.
"Of course, no one can blame you for saving your father, but you can't expect all your Abolition friends will be left unmolested. Lieutenant Whimple, take twenty men and wait on old Dan Martin to-morrow."
When morning came, nearly all the horses were needed for the work of collecting the balance of the scattered forces, foraging for provisions and for arms and horses.
Corporal Diggs was second in command of Whimple's force, and, as he mounted his tall horse, he heard Seth Williams making audible comments on his appearance.
The mounted force galloped away toward the foot of Twin Mountains, where Uncle Dan lived, a distance of about ten miles from the camp.
It was near the middle of the forenoon when Uncle Dan, who was sitting in his door-yard, saw a cavalcade approaching. Crazy Joe was in the house drawing a map of Egypt, showing by lines how far the famine had extended.
Uncle Dan's fierce mastiff and his hounds seemed to scent coming danger, the latter sending up mournful howls and the former uttering low, fierce howls of anger.
"By hokey, I don't like the looks o' that," said the old man, as he observed the armed band approaching his lonely cabin. "Seems like they ain't honest. They're secesh, sure as gun's made o' iron, for there is Jake Whimple leading 'em, and right here, too. Guess it won't do any harm to keep old 'Broken Ribs' handy, in case they should be ugly."
As the old man concluded he entered the house, and, taking his rifle from the rack over the door, leaned it against the wall while he took his seat in the door-way, his gun within easy reach. He had also placed a large navy revolver by his side.
The horsemen had now caught sight of him, and, with exultant yells, galloped up the slight elevation from the creek toward the cabin.
"Say, I reckin you'd better stop now and let a fellow know what ye want," cried Uncle Dan, snatching his rifle, and bringing it to a poise.
The cavalcade halted, the men looking apprehensively at the unerring rifle and then at one another. Finally, by common consent, all eyes were turned on Lieutenant Whimple.
"What do ye want, Jake Whimple?" demanded Uncle Dan in sharp, imperative tones.
"We have come to administer the oath of allegiance to you," said Whimple, riding a little nearer, his comrades following close behind.
"Then stop," cried the old hunter, "or I will make it hot for you, for I won't take no oath of allegiance from any one to the Southern Confederacy, 'specially such a sorry cuss as you."
"Then I shall take you a prisoner and bring you to camp," said Lieutenant Whimple, trying to throw some sternness in his voice.
"I'll drop some o' you fellars afore ye do that. Now jist advance one step further and see if I don't."
Although they were fifty yards away, they could distinctly hear the ominous click of that rifle which never failed.
"I've lost something down here," muttered Corporal Diggs, striving in vain to keep his teeth from chattering, "and I believe I'll go back and see if I can't find it."
The Corporal wheeled his big horse around, and galloped down the hill for about one hundred yards, and, dismounting, set about examining very intently the ground behind a large oak tree.
"Whoa, January," he said shivering, perhaps from cold, as the thermometer was only 65° above in the shade.
"If you don't come along peaceably with us we shall have to use force," said Lieutenant Whimple, in a tone of as much severity as he could command.
The old man sprang to his feet and brought his gun to his face, "Now, turn about and git from here, or I'll drop some of ye where ye stand," he shouted.
Lieutenant Whimple spurred his horse, which reared, and wheeled and as he turned he fired his pistol at the hunter. The ball passed high over the old man's house, missing its aim by ten feet.
"Shoot the old rascal!" he frantically cried, as he saw the fatal rifle aimed at himself. The discharge of the pistol had frightened the horses; they had broken ranks and were now rearing and plunging in every direction.
"Crack!" went Uncle Dan's rifle, and a bullet went through the Lieutenant's hat, knocking it from his head.
With a wild cry, the Lieutenant threw up his hands, and fell forward on his horse's neck, believing, as did the others, that he was killed. The horse tore down the hill, followed by the entire company.
Uncle Dan's blood was up and snatching his revolver he fired three more shots at the retreating cavalcade. At the last shot he saw the dust arise from the back of one man's coat and heard a wild cry.
"Take me by force," said Uncle Dan, "May be," and re-entering the house he reloaded his weapons, to be ready for another assault.
Corporal Diggs was still searching for the treasure he had lost, when he heard the shots, and, looking from behind the tree, he saw the whole troop come tearing down the hill, retreating, as it seemed to him, in the midst of a storm of shot fired from a six pounder.
The Corporal made a spring for his saddle (as he afterward declared), to rally his men, seeing that the Lieutenant was wounded, but he could only succeed in grasping the horn of his saddle. Thus clinging, he managed to slip one foot into the stirrup, when the flying horsemen thundered by. The Corporal's long-legged horse gave one snort and started at headlong speed.
"Whoa, January! whoa, January! whoa January!" frantically cried the Corporal, clinging to the side of the tall horse, able neither to get on or off, while the excited beast seemed to be trying to outstrip the wind.
"Whoa, January," cried the Corporal, trying to stop his flying steed, but unable to touch the bridle.
"Whoa, January," his arms and legs extended, and his short coat-tail flying, made him look like a spider on a circular saw. "Whoa January! Oh Lordy, won't no one stop this horse? I'll—hem, hem—be killed against a tree! Help, help! Whoa January."
January by this time had passed the foremost horse in the fleeing cavalcade, and his rider presented such a ludicrous appearance that the men, badly frightened as they were, roared with laughter.
Lieutenant Whimple, after swaying for some time in the saddle, plunged off in a helpless heap on the side of the road. Three or four of the men paused to pick him up. The man who had been wounded in the back, fainted and fell from his horse, when another halt was made.
But on thundered January, his rider still clinging to his side and crying vigorously for help. The creek was reached, and January, by one tremendous leap, cleared the ford. The stirrup broke, so did Corporal Diggs' hold. There was a great splash, and those nearest saw a pair of short legs disappear beneath the surface of the water.
When the party came up, they beheld a mud-stained, water-soaked individual crawling up the opposite bank, sputtering and groaning, and swearing he would quit such an unholy cause.
The Lieutenant soon recovered, though he acted for hours like a man dazed. The severely wounded private was carried to the nearest house, where he was left and medical aid sent for. Corporal Diggs rode behind one of the soldiers until they came upon the fractious January nibbling the fresh grass in a piece of bottom-land. He then mounted his own steed and took command of the company, which he led straight back to camp.
No sooner had the Confederates left Uncle Dan's residence than the latter packed up his few valuables, and, telling Crazy Joe to go to Mr. Tompkins, turned loose his dogs and set out through the woods to the Junction. Uncle Dan surmised the rebels would return in force and burn his dwelling to the earth.