The man went off to get his saddle, which hung in a remote corner, and Dawson kept a close watch on him as long as he remained in the crib. Leon couldn’t help thinking how coolly father and son went about escaping from serving under the flag they didn’t like. If they made a success of it, well and good; if they failed, it was certain death to the one of them that happened to be caught. What would Leon’s own mother have said if she could have seen him at that moment? When Mr. Dawson got his saddle and turned to go out he waved his hand toward the crack as a farewell signal, and that brought the first long breath from the young fellow at Leon’s side. It was plain now that all the nonsense was gone out of him.
“There goes the best father that any fellow ever had,” said Dawson. “He is plucky, too, and when he next joins us he won’t come so still. He’ll have all that crowd after him. But now I must get to work,” he added, brightening up. “You fellows can help me by staying right here and watching these animals, so that they won’t arouse the whole neighborhood, while I get the team ready.”
“Why don’t you let one or the other of us go with you?” asked Leon.
“You’ll only be in the way; and, besides, I have got plenty of negroes out there to help.”
Dawson went away, and although the boys who were watching the animals caught sight of him once in a while through the cracks, it was fully half an hour before he came back. Then he had the team, which an old negro was driving, and the wagon was loaded so full that there did not seem to be room for so much as a skillet anywhere about it. Safely perched among the feather-beds was his mother, and she was having as much as she could do to keep the children quiet. On the end-board in front was Cuff, who was talking to his mules in a quiet sort of way, and it was astonishing how much speed he got out of them. Following along behind the wagon were ten or fifteen negroes, who wished her every success in her journey and promised to come to her on the following day. The dogs were there, too, all except the one that had been tied behind the house, and they seemed to think they were going off on a pleasure trip.
“Now, then,” said Dawson, taking his bridle from Leon’s hand and mounting his horse, “you darkies have followed us far enough. Go back now and go to bed, and remember and don’t come out of your house again to-night, no matter how much noise is made here. Leave that dog tied up. Father wants him to follow our trail by. Good-bye. Now, Cuff, whip up. We don’t want to stay around here any longer. Mother, take a good look at your home, for it is your last chance to see it.”
“No, Robert, I will see it in my dreams, anyway,” replied his mother, who was almost heart-broken at the idea of separating herself for so long a time from all her associations. “If your father only comes up with me I shall be satisfied.”
“What do you think of that, Leon?” asked Dawson, as the wagon passed on out of hearing. “These rebels want killing. Father brought my mother to that house when he first married her, and we have lived there ever since. I am going to shoot every rebel that comes in my way.”
Leon did not know what reply to make to this. It was probable that his own mother might be obliged to leave her home in the same way, and he didn’t know how he would feel if she were turned loose in the world. It was no wonder, he thought, that Union men should talk of killing every rebel that came within reach. He knew he would feel so, too.
“There is one thing about it,” said Dawson, with something that sounded like a sigh. “A woman has more pluck than a man to stand under such things. I never believed so until to-night.”