“Now, Colonel,” says the Pay-Master, “if you will be so good as to give the necessary orders, we will begin.”
The Pay-Master takes his place behind the table which bars the entrance to the tent and box; the first company falls in “by one rank,” faces “without doubling,” and in single file approaches the Pay-Master. The Pay-Master takes a pay-roll and calls a name; the clerk takes its “duplicate” and checks the name; the owner steps forward and answers to the name. The Pay-Master seizes a bundle of the precious paper and tears off the wrapper. The notes dance through his flying fingers, and flutter down before the owner of the first name. The Pay-Master carelessly seizes them, says “sixty-three dollars, forty-five cents,” and tosses them toward the owner, as though he wishes to be rid of the vulgar trash. The owner, much discomposed, carefully picks them up and hurriedly retires to the nearest bench, whereon he seats himself, and slowly counts and recounts the notes, at least five times. It is labor in vain; he cannot make them a dollar more, or a dime less than did the Pay-Master. Those practised hands, though they count the money only once, and move with the swiftness of a magician’s wand, never make mistakes.
There is another day’s work before the Pay-Master, and a somewhat unusual one for him. Four companies remain to be paid, and the special train has gone back to New Orleans. We must travel, therefore, by a hand-car. The mysterious box is carried to the car, the clerk sits on it, keeping a bright look-out toward the rear, lest any pursuing locomotive should rush upon us ere we know it; the Pay-Master and I seat ourselves in front upon the floor, and half a dozen soldiers, who are both guard and engine, stow themselves away as best they can, and then seizing the crank, put our little vehicle slowly in motion.
It is very pleasant skimming along swiftly so close to the ground, with so little noise or jarring, with such an absence of smoke and dust, and with such a free, unrestrained view of everything around us. By far the pleasantest ride upon the rail that any of us have ever had, is this. We fly quickly across the wide plantation that adjoins the camp, and then enter the wood or swamp, whichever you prefer to call it.
“There will be no train coming along I hope,” said the Pay-Master, as he glanced at the narrow roadway and black, slimy water that came close to us on either side. “What should we do now, for instance?”
“Tumble the hand-car into the swamp, and slide ourselves down the sides of the road, and lie quiet till the train has passed.”
“Ugh!” said the Pay-Master. “I do not like the idea of sliding myself into that water. Look how black and slimy it is, and then that unhealthy green scum upon it. I should not wonder if it were full of snakes and alligators.”
“Alligators! You may say that; look there!”
An immense alligator is seen stretched on a fallen tree, and dozing in the warmth of the April sun.
“May I give him a shot?” asks the sergeant of our guard, drawing his revolver.