Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1868-02-06
gu Original stutg,
Written for the YorkvIlla Enquirer ....
THE LITTLE REBEL.
BY CLAUDE FORESTER.
CHAPTER I.

position, lay an extensive wheat feld-the grain
ripening beautifully for the harvest. Between US
and the Yankee lines were three trees and an old
abandoned house, near the river, all Of which at
forded admirable shelter for sharp-shooters, who,
by the way, had been doing considerable mischief
in our ranks. We-surprised and captured these
stboys in blue" however, few nights after our
OCCUPATION of the lines, and few well directed
shots, from the gallant Washington Light Artillery,
of New Orleans, soon rendered the old house un-
inhabitable. Having disposed of this intolerable
nuisance, our boys availed themselves OF the op-
portunity of indulging in q good stretch: and, II
auy of nv readers have experienced the inconve-
nience of cramped, kneehng position, for four OF
five days behind an earthwork, no higher than MS
capbox, the luxury of an erect position can readily
be realized The call for the Ambulance Corps,
however, followed by an unanimous and instanta-
.neous ducking of heads upon cur right, soon I'm.
pressed us with the necessity of sying low and
tsgrabbing a root" for the Yankees had posted
another band of sharp-shooters upon an eminenoe
directly fronting our picketlin and their trst vol
lev had given several of our poor boys an "unllm-
tied furlough."
e I had been detailed, with others, to Chamber
down the rugged and tangled banks of the river
upon our left, and procure water for the company,
of which was member The danger lay on the
way to the riverside, and only there for, once at
the river ITSELF we were almost perfectly secure,
being, perhaps, thirty feet below the level OF the
earthworks and entirely out of sight OF the enemy.
Passing cautiously down the lines in stopping
almost creeping-position, with dozen, or more,
canteens slung over our shoulders piled one on the
other, it was no unusual thing to find more than
half of them perforated with rifle slugs by the
time we reached the river, so terrific was the tre
from the enemies sharp-shooters Occasionally,
the bearer himself, would 60 down, the canteens
flying in all directions, to be gathered, alas BY
some other hand.
We, however reached our destination in safety,
and gathering around an old sunken barrel, which
the retreating tide had kindly left full Of water,
we began filing our canteens-in no particular
hurry, I assure you. Many of my readers will
remember those old barrels upon the banks OF the
Appomattox, and, without the outlay OF any con-
siderable effort, can recall the pleasant meetings
and social converse there. Many and many time,
in the dear, hopeful years which are gone, have
we sat together in that picturesque, quiet and
shadowy spot, talking about home, and those who
made it home to us our sweethearts wives and
mothers.
Let me ask-those Of you who wore the grey
if there ever came from those groups by the river,
one word of discomfort, one word Of murmnrng
or complaint? Didan expression escape their lips,
that could possibly be construed into anything like
apprehension as regards the ultimatum OF all .hen
selfsacrifce and hardships? Did We ever use the
words, 'after the soar," without coupling them
with independence, and all that is nationally good
great and glorious? Was word uttered, calcula
ted to have the remotest impression upon your
mind, that we were prepared for the serfdom ano
despotism, to which we have, alas! been degra
ded?
However this may be, we, at least, can recall
nothing of the kind The men at the riverside
upon the occasion about which we write, and upor
which our story opens, were hopeful, cheerful
fearless and brave and never experienced pas
sing doubt, that the now conquered banner,
under which they had fought so galantly, would
float triumphantly over Dixie's sunny land That
it did not, is-thank God mo fault of theirs.
Those penny-a-Ene contributors to Boomers
LEDGER" who invariably represent our boys in
grey, as Glow, villanous looking rufhans,' and
those picture-makers in "Harper's Weekly" who
do the same thing, have either drawn largely upor
the imagination for their subjects, or have gotter
up painted lie for the mean qualification OF des
picable malice. But, enough Of this! Let US re
turn to our story.
was listening to the gurging water, rushing
through the necks of our canteens, aswe held them
down in the barrel, aad was meditatively corkine
and laying aside those already filled, when pail
of little white hands, beside my own brown ones
caused me to look quickly up into the face Of thei,
owner.
''What brought you into the army, youngster?'
asked, looking the newcomer directly in the face
and wondering at the extreme deicacy and beauty
of his features.
"What brought you, sir p was the prompt re
ionder, with slight curl Of the lip and an almost
imperceptible blush.
''But you are a mere lad" said, Involuntary
taking his canteen and filling it for him. II would
not take you to be more than sixteen or seven
teen.'
''Well, what Of that?''
"Nothing," I replied; ''only you do not loos
sufficiently able to endure the fatigue and exposure
of an active campaign"
We'll see about that, sir !" he said, rising from
his kneeing position beside the barrel and throw
ing his canteen over his shoulder.
"Why do you say sir to me?" asked, with
smile. sgThat is not army fashion, l assure you.
"You don't want me to say ma am, do you
And, as he turned and looked upon me with his
saucy, roguish eyes, found the memory OF face
like his, growing up between me and the past, ana
carrying me strangely back to the beautiful long
ago.
'sWhat may be your name?' asked, an inde
Enable interest growing upon me-
1T may be Harry, sir, " he said; "but it's not.
''Well, what is it.
"Nothing, whatever, CAN induce you to ask the
question, but idle curiosity Inever crafty such.
'Indeed!" said l. "Pon my word you have
most exalted opinion of your little SELF You
must first ascertain my motive before you divulge
your name, Ell? Wait until you see little service,
my youngsterl Nothing like that for taking the
starch out of fellow! You shall certainly have a
place in the very first story write after the war.
s'You are an author, then?" said he, turning
quickly, and surveying me from head to foot.
'sNot exactly an author" said, Gin the strict
acceptation of the title. have written occasion
ally for few periodicals, however,
''And your name is-what p
ssNotbinp but idle curiosity can prompt the