A Daughter of the Union Part 32
"You are so pale," said Jeanne, touching him gently. "Are you well, d.i.c.k?"
"Fine! Just need a good square meal to set me up all right," answered the boy cheerily. "I haven't had very much to eat since you girls set me free. Just what I could find in the woods. Herbs and wild grapes, and persimmons. I eat the green ones mostly."
"But why?" asked Jeanne mystified. "The ripe ones are ever so much better.
I like them now, although I didn't at first."
"The green ones are best if you don't have much to eat," rejoined d.i.c.k.
"They are fine to draw the stomach up to fit the supply. Say, Jeanne, don't you wish we had some of mother's doughnuts?"
"You poor, poor boy," cried Jeanne laughing, but there were tears in her eyes. "I wish we were where we could get them. Will the war last much longer, d.i.c.k?"
"I am afraid so," was the lad's reply. "The rebs have played the mischief this fall, and it looks as if all our work had to be done over again. Now, Jeanne, you go to sleep, or you won't be fit to travel to-morrow."
"And what will you do?"
"Watch while you sleep. Never mind me. I am used to it. I have often stood guard, and can do it just as well as not."
"I don't believe that anything will bother us, brother. I wish you would sleep too."
"No," said d.i.c.k st.u.r.dily, "not now."
Jeanne tried to obey him but sleep would not come to her. The dark pines were on all sides of them. The owls hooted dismally, and the chill wind sobbed and moaned fitfully in the pine trees. Presently d.i.c.k stooped over her.
"Are you cold, Jeanne?"
"Yes, d.i.c.k. And I can't sleep a bit. Can't we talk, or walk, or do something?"
"We will walk," decided d.i.c.k. "I think that the horse must be rested by this time. What is his name?"
"Robert E. Lee," answered Jeanne in a hesitating tone fearing that d.i.c.k might not like the animal to be so called. "Bob called him 'Rel' for short, and so do I because I don't like the full name."
"Lee is a fine general," commented d.i.c.k. "If we had had him on our side to begin with, the war would have been over by this time. I hope the horse is worthy of his name. Take my hand, Jeanne, and we will start."
Throwing the rein over his shoulder d.i.c.k guided himself by the stars and the brother and sister again took up their journey to the westward.
Slowly they proceeded, stopping occasionally to rest and picking their way carefully through the forest. At last, just at the break of day, they came to a clearing in the woods in which stood a cabin. The blue smoke curled invitingly from the chimney, and in the open door stood a venerable darky.
"It's darkies," cried d.i.c.k joyfully. "They will give us something to eat."
They hurried forward. The old man stared at them as they approached him.
"Could you give us some breakfast, sir?" asked d.i.c.k. "We are willing to pay well for it. We are Unionists."
"'Meriky," called the old man excitedly, "hyar's two ob Ma.s.sa Link.u.m's folks wantin' sumthing ter eat. Yes, suh; k.u.m in, suh. We'll gib yer what we've got. k.u.m in!"
Gladly they entered. A bright looking colored woman surrounded by half a dozen pickaninnies of all ages and sizes from two to fifteen was busily preparing the morning meal. She bustled forward bowing and courtesying as they entered.
"k.u.m in an' welcome," she said. "Lawsie, you is one ob Ma.s.sa Link.u.m's sojers sho' nuff. Hain't neber seed one befo'. We all jest lubs Fadder Abraham, suh."
"And the horse?" said d.i.c.k suggestively.
"Dat's all right, suh. Hyar, Geo'ge Washington! Done yer see de gem'man's hoss a stan'ing dere? Gib him sum fodder."
With homely but cheerful hospitality they pressed the viands upon them.
It seemed to Jeanne that nothing had ever tasted so good before, and she could not but gaze in wonder at the quant.i.ty of hominy, mola.s.ses, cornbread and rye coffee that d.i.c.k managed to stow away.
"What would it have been if he hadn't eaten the green persimmons," she wondered.
"You all is a moughty long ways from your lines," remarked the old man as d.i.c.k told them that he been taken prisoner and was making his escape.
"Dere's sojers all 'bout in dese hyar woods. 'Clar ter goodness I done see how yer gwine ter git away from 'em."
"We'll manage," said d.i.c.k hopefully. He felt now that he could face all of Van Dorn's brigade. "Take this, my friend, and tell us the best road to reach the Mississippi River."
"Thankky kindly, ma.s.sa," said the old darky, taking the dollar bill that d.i.c.k gave him with the eagerness of a child. "See hyar, 'Meriky, it's Link.u.m money. Good Link.u.m money!"
"Sho' nuff it am," cried 'Merica examining it. "Thankky, suh; and you too, missy. Ef yer eber sees Ma.s.sa Link.u.m tell him how we all lubs him, an'
dat we am a lookin' fohwa'd ter resting in his bosom."
"I will," said Jeanne with quick courtesy as a suspicious sound came from d.i.c.k's direction. "Perhaps some day you will see him for yourself."
"De Lohd grant it," came from the negroes fervently. "De good buk done promised dat we shall lie in Fadder Abraham's bosom, an' we knows we will.
Tell him we's 'spectin' it suah ter k.u.m ter pa.s.s."
"Though how Lincoln is going to take them all into his bosom pa.s.ses my comprehension," was d.i.c.k's laughing comment as they went on their way.
"I think that he has done it already, d.i.c.k," said the girl with truer insight than the boy. "They know it too, poor souls! I hope that they will get to see him. I think if I were a negro I would walk all the way to Washington to do it."
They were fortunate enough to obtain some ears of corn from the home of a poor white, the woman being so suspicious of them that she would not permit them to enter her house. She gladly however took the money they offered and gave them the corn.
To all inquiries concerning the Mississippi River they were told that if they kept on in the same direction that they were going they would reach it in time.
"All of which is very specific," growled d.i.c.k as he threw himself under a tree and declared a halt. "I wonder if any of them ever saw the river in their lives."
"I don't believe that they have," said Jeanne. "I found out in New Orleans that these people that they call 'poor whites' are very ignorant. But we'll reach it some way, d.i.c.k."
"Yes; I begin to think that we will," said d.i.c.k complacently. "I wish that I had a Confederate uniform though. These clothes are rather conspicuous."
"d.i.c.k," cried Jeanne in horrified tones, "you would not wear that uniform for a minute, would you?"
"Wouldn't I?" chuckled d.i.c.k. "I wish I had a chance to try. Then we would not have to skulk along this way but would go boldly to the nearest town and board a train, and there we'd be!"
"I would not wear one," declared Jeanne.
"It wouldn't change my principles," said d.i.c.k. "The clothes don't make the man only in the eyes of other people, and that is what we want now. I would be just as true a Unionist as I am now, and it would be much safer for us both. A uniform and a gun are just what I need. I am going to get them!"
He rose determinedly as he spoke and helped Jeanne on the horse.
"Get on too, d.i.c.k," she pleaded. "You have walked all the time and your shoes are in tatters. Please get up too."
To please her d.i.c.k climbed up before her, and they started off at a brisk pace. Suddenly from a bend in the road before them a body of rebel cavalry cantered into view. Jeanne t.i.ttered a cry of alarm but d.i.c.k setting his teeth made a quick dash into the woods.