The National tribune., 1899-12-28


"Stop here" said the Sergeant, whose
name was Smoots, halting them some dis
tance back. "I'll git yo'uns some grub
/ from our Commissary. Yo'uns had better
make the most of hit, for yo'uns won't
back thar among them Jawgy Preserves.
They'uns's the measliest lot O. scalawags
that ever ct clay, an hain't no sort o. sense
about sojerin'. Yo'uns want ter hide
everything from 'em, fer they'uns III rob
yo'uns Of everything. they kin grab. Look
I out fur 'em every minnit."
Serg't Smoots presently returned with a
poke" containing about peck Of corn
| meal and a side of meat, which he handed
| to ST, remarking:
"Thar. you'd better keep all O. that, an
take monty good keer of hit, fer grubs
likely ter be skeerce with yo'uns fer awhile.
! Stay right here an cook your vittels; I've
spoke ter the Provost Sargint, who's
standin' right over thar, an turned yo'uns
over ter him. Yo'uns can't git away, SO
you needn't waste time a-tryin'. When
the Sargint gifts orders ter move he'll gether
yo'unS in. want ter do all | kin fer yo'uns,
kase yo'uns captured my brother an lot
o our boys at Tullyhomy, an yo'uns
treated 'em mouty white. But | must git
back ter the rijmint. Good day."
Purity white, man, that, fur a REBEL"
said ST, as de began examining the pro-
sioipilS. Ills IDDhS IKE lDItIdDlt SIuD
for hungry men, but how are we goin' to
cook it? We hain't so much as tin cup
with us. Wonder where we kin get some
pans or something?' !
The man who had been indicated as the
Provost Sergeant strolled by and gave
them a savagely critical look.
Here. Sergeant" said ST, appealingly to
him, "what're we goin' to cook our rations
in? Can't you give us pans and kittles"
Cook your grub as you please said the
Sergeant sourly. "You Internal Yankees
orter be monty glad ter git grub at all.
If had my way you'd git blamed little"
"But we can't eat this stuff raw, Ser
geant," expostulated ST, beginning to feel
for the first time the keenness of the situa-
ton. I'VE hain't nothin' with us.
We had to pile all our things when we
started on the charge"
charge" said the Sergeant with an oath.
what are yo'uns down heah fightin'
we'uns for, anyhow? Hits Gods mercy
that you wasn't killed on the charge with
the rest OF 'em, as yo'uns orter've bin. Eat
your grub raw, an be blamed glad you've
got hit ter eat. Better men than you
have had ter do hit"
Mice way, that, to talk to prisoners,
YOU bomb-proofer," said Shorty scornfully.
"Tll bet my head you never was in fight
in your life"
"Shet up, or I'll break yer Yankee jaw"
said the Sergeant, striding up menacingly.
"You will, will you? responded Shorty,
putting himself in a posture of defense
Gust try that little game, won't you?
Just balance up to me, sonny. Here's
that saws | kin knock that rebel head often
you with neatness and dispatch. You're
one o them fellers that said one rebel could
whip six Yankees, | 'SpoSe. Just tackle
this one, if you want to be measured for an
early grave and military funeral. Don't
he modest. bub. Come forward to the
mourner's berch."
The Serge It was evidently not popular
with the crowo of rebel soldiers who fiocked
around, attracted by the noise of the dis
pute. They jeered at him, and urged him
to accept Shorty's invitation.
"Sail into him, Buck" they yelled. "Sail
in. You're so fond o knockin' sick an
drunk and prisoners around. ThaT's one
that wants yo' ter knock him. He's plumb
sassy about it. Jump him. Knock the
stuffin' out o the Yankee"
But there was something in the knowing
way that Shorty moved his ponderous
fists that discouraged the Sergeant.
"Here, you struggling hounds" he said
savagely to the crowd around him, what
air yo'uns doin' away from yo' camps?
Git back ter yo' riJimints, afore | chuck
every one o. yo' in the gyardhouse Skin.
now, or I'll call out the gyard, and arrest
every last one o YOU"
The crowd scattered, and turning to the
prisoners, the Sergeant said:
.Heah, yo' YanKs, yo're layin' out heah
too fur. Pick up an move up ter whar
them other prisoners air, an do hit right
smart. Git now, or I'll done help yo' in
way yO' won't like"
REFRESHING himself with an effort from
hot words of resentment, which leaped to
his lips, 81 picked up his poke of meal and
side OF bacon, and moved up the hill, TO
where some hundreds of other prisoners
captured in the assault were collected |
More were brought in in small squads |
AS each came up it was eagerly scanned
by those already there, for acquaintance, |
and the new arrivals as eagerly looked
through the crowd for missing ones. There |
We're many happy recognitions of COM
rades who were feared to have been killed, |
much delighted hand-shakings, and such |
tears of JOY over escapes of dear friends |
that for the moment the gloom of capture |
was illuminated by the joy of having passed |
scatheless through such mortal peril.
ST took the opportunity Of looking over
his squad to see how they had passed |
through the fiery ordeal. His and Shorty's |
face and hands were covered with blood,
now drying to crusts: 1t was the same
with the other boys. Careful examination
revealed, however, that nobody had re-
ceiyed any serious hurts. Their struggles
with the abatis We're responsible for many
deep gashes on their faces and hands |
Twigs and splinters torn from the trees
and driven with singing force against
them were the cause Of others, and they
all felt as raw and infiamed as if beaten
with many stripes. A bullet had clipped
off bit of Pete Skidmore's ear, piece
of shell had torn out bit of Harry JOS
lyn's, pantaloons:. a canister-ball had
raised welt on Gid Mackall's thigh, and
each one of them seemed to have been grazed
somewhere by the storm of missiles, yet
none had received what would be regarded