CHAPTER XXV.
THE MONKEY AND THE CAT’S PAW.
NOTWITHSTANDING his own misfortunes, Somers could not help thinking of his friend De Banyan, whom he regarded as an elder brother. They had endured much suffering, and passed through many perils together, and the bond of union between them was very strong. The riderless horse indicated that he had been killed. The rebels had fired upon Somers before they summoned him to surrender, and probably a shot aimed at De Banyan had been more unfortunate. It was very sad for Somers to think of his noble companion, shot down by an unseen foe; but he could hardly cherish a hope that he was still alive. It would have been better for him to fall in the front of battle, where he had so often distinguished himself.
It was hard to give him up; yet all the probabilities were, that he had been killed, and that his body lay unnoticed and unhonored on the spot where he had fallen. Somers was a prisoner himself, and had been plundered even of the most necessary articles of wearing apparel, and subjected to needless insult and brutality. The condition of the Union prisoners at Richmond, Andersonville, and Salisbury was too well known to him to render the prospect before him even tolerable. But a desponding spirit would only aggravate his miseries, and he determined to submit to his fate with patient resignation. He felt that he was in the keeping of the good Father, who doeth all things well; and in His appointed time he would be rescued from peril and restored to his friends; or, if it was the will of Heaven that he should lay down his life in grief and misery for the cause he had chosen to serve, he would try to be faithful and patient unto the bitter end.
The rebels conducted him through the woods to the creek, which they forded, and continued on their way till they reached a grove, where it now appeared that they had picketed their horses. It was also evident to the unfortunate prisoner that his captors were not regular cavalrymen, but guerillas, who hung on the flanks of the army to rob the wounded, plunder the dead, capture stragglers worth the trouble, and gather up the spoils of battle. When this was apparent to Somers, from the words and the actions of the wretches, he felt that he had reason to be thankful that they had not murdered him, as they probably had his friend. His life had been spared, but this new revelation of the character of his captors suggested a doubt whether death was not preferable to captivity in the hands of such miscreants. At the grove the men halted.
“Now, cap’n, off with them boots!” said Turkin, in savage tones.
Somers felt that he had not a moment’s lease of life secured to him, and he promptly complied with the unreasonable demand of the guerilla.
“Who’s gwine to hev them boots?” suggested one of the gang.
“The man as they fits,” replied Turkin, who proceeded at once to try them on.