The Red Acorn [109]
an oath; "let's take the ----- guns!"
"I don't want no better place to die than right here!" echoed Abe, still more savagely profane. "Le's have the guns, or sink into hell getting 'em!"
The remnant of the Rebel regiment had broken cover and rushed for the guns.
"Attention!" shouted Harry. "Fix bayonets!"
The sharp steel clashed on the muzzles.
"FORWARD, CHARGE!"
For one wild minute shining steel at arm's length did its awful work. Then three-score Rebels fled back to their leafy lair, and as many blue-coats with drew into the cedars, pulling the guns after them.
"Pick up the Lieutenant, there, some of you who can do a little lifting," said Kent, as they came to where the boy-artillerist lay dead. "This prod in my shoulder's spoilt my lifting for some time. Lay him on the gun and we'll take himj back with us. He deserves it, for he was game clear through. Harry, that fellow that gave you that beauty-mark on the temple with his saber got his discharge from the Rebel army just afterwards, on the point of Abe's bayonet."
"Is that so? Did Abe get struck at all?"
"Only a whack over the nose with the butt of a gun, which will doubtless improve his looks. Any change would."
"Guess we can go back now with some peace and comfort," said Abe, coming up, and alluding to the cessation of the firing in their front. "That last round took all the fight out of them hell-hounds across the field."
"Some of you had better go over to the camp there and get our axes. We'll have to cut a road through the cedars if we take these guns off," said Harry, tieing a handkershief around the gaping saber wound in his temple. "The rest of you get around to the right, and keep a sharp look out for the flank."
So they worked their way back, and a little after noon came to the open fields by the pike.
-----
As the wagon rolled slowly down the pike toward Nashville Rachel, in spite of anxiety, fell asleep. Some hours later she was awakened by the driver shaking her rudely.
"Wake up!" he shouted, "ef ye value yer life!"
"Where are we?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"At Stewart's Creek," answered the driver, "an' all o' Wheeler's cavalry are out thar' in them woods."
She looked out. She could see some miles ahead of her, and as far as she could see the road was filled with wagons moving toward Nashville. A sharp spurt of firing on the left attracted her attention, and she saw a long wave of horsemen ride out of the woods, and charge the wagon-guards, who made a sharp resistence, but at length fled before overwhelming numbers. The teamsters, at the first sight of the formidable line, began cutting their wheel-mules loose, and escaping upon them. Rachel's teamster followed their example.
"The off-mule's unhitcht; jump on him, an' skip," he shouted to her as he vanished up the pike.
The Rebels were shooting down the mules and such teamsters as remained. Some dismounted, and with the axes each wagon carried, chopped the spokes until the wagon fell, while others ran along and started fires in each. In a little while five hundred wagons loaded with rations, clothing, amunition and stores were blazing furiously. Their work done, the cavalry rode off toward Nashville in search of other trains.
Rachel leaped from the wagon, before the Rebels approached, and took refuge behind a large tree, whence she saw her wagon share the fate of the rest. When the cavalry disappeared, she came out again into the road and walked slowly up it, debating what she could do. She was rejoiced to meet her teamster returning. He had viewed the occurence from a prudent distance, and being kindly-natured had decided to return to her help, as soon as it could be done without risk.
He told her that there was a wagon up the pike a little ways with a woman in it, to which he would conduct her, and they would go back to the army in front of Murfreesboro.
"It seems a case of 'twixt the devil and the deep sea," he said, despairingly. "At any rate we can't stay out here, and my experience is that it is always safest
"I don't want no better place to die than right here!" echoed Abe, still more savagely profane. "Le's have the guns, or sink into hell getting 'em!"
The remnant of the Rebel regiment had broken cover and rushed for the guns.
"Attention!" shouted Harry. "Fix bayonets!"
The sharp steel clashed on the muzzles.
"FORWARD, CHARGE!"
For one wild minute shining steel at arm's length did its awful work. Then three-score Rebels fled back to their leafy lair, and as many blue-coats with drew into the cedars, pulling the guns after them.
"Pick up the Lieutenant, there, some of you who can do a little lifting," said Kent, as they came to where the boy-artillerist lay dead. "This prod in my shoulder's spoilt my lifting for some time. Lay him on the gun and we'll take himj back with us. He deserves it, for he was game clear through. Harry, that fellow that gave you that beauty-mark on the temple with his saber got his discharge from the Rebel army just afterwards, on the point of Abe's bayonet."
"Is that so? Did Abe get struck at all?"
"Only a whack over the nose with the butt of a gun, which will doubtless improve his looks. Any change would."
"Guess we can go back now with some peace and comfort," said Abe, coming up, and alluding to the cessation of the firing in their front. "That last round took all the fight out of them hell-hounds across the field."
"Some of you had better go over to the camp there and get our axes. We'll have to cut a road through the cedars if we take these guns off," said Harry, tieing a handkershief around the gaping saber wound in his temple. "The rest of you get around to the right, and keep a sharp look out for the flank."
So they worked their way back, and a little after noon came to the open fields by the pike.
-----
As the wagon rolled slowly down the pike toward Nashville Rachel, in spite of anxiety, fell asleep. Some hours later she was awakened by the driver shaking her rudely.
"Wake up!" he shouted, "ef ye value yer life!"
"Where are we?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"At Stewart's Creek," answered the driver, "an' all o' Wheeler's cavalry are out thar' in them woods."
She looked out. She could see some miles ahead of her, and as far as she could see the road was filled with wagons moving toward Nashville. A sharp spurt of firing on the left attracted her attention, and she saw a long wave of horsemen ride out of the woods, and charge the wagon-guards, who made a sharp resistence, but at length fled before overwhelming numbers. The teamsters, at the first sight of the formidable line, began cutting their wheel-mules loose, and escaping upon them. Rachel's teamster followed their example.
"The off-mule's unhitcht; jump on him, an' skip," he shouted to her as he vanished up the pike.
The Rebels were shooting down the mules and such teamsters as remained. Some dismounted, and with the axes each wagon carried, chopped the spokes until the wagon fell, while others ran along and started fires in each. In a little while five hundred wagons loaded with rations, clothing, amunition and stores were blazing furiously. Their work done, the cavalry rode off toward Nashville in search of other trains.
Rachel leaped from the wagon, before the Rebels approached, and took refuge behind a large tree, whence she saw her wagon share the fate of the rest. When the cavalry disappeared, she came out again into the road and walked slowly up it, debating what she could do. She was rejoiced to meet her teamster returning. He had viewed the occurence from a prudent distance, and being kindly-natured had decided to return to her help, as soon as it could be done without risk.
He told her that there was a wagon up the pike a little ways with a woman in it, to which he would conduct her, and they would go back to the army in front of Murfreesboro.
"It seems a case of 'twixt the devil and the deep sea," he said, despairingly. "At any rate we can't stay out here, and my experience is that it is always safest