Traveller (25 page)

The sun was dropping—near ‘nuff down into the trees—when all of a sudden, from far off, over the same way, there came a tremendous, deep sound of gunfire. I felt an instant change come over everyone in headquarters, from Marse Robert down to the soldiers. Major Taylor and Colonel Long was right beside Marse Robert, and they turned and looked at him without a word. Marse Robert spoke to them and pointed, saying something ‘bout going forward to attack right away.

And so we did. Our soldiers, who'd been laying down under cover, got up and begun to advance, and our own guns commenced to firing. Marse Robert rode forward with the soldiers. You could see, up ahead, where the Blue men had cut down trees to fight behind. They was all lined up behind them, waiting for us.

All of a sudden I realized what we-all was a-doing. Cap-in-His-Eyes, that morning—he'd set out to go right round behind the Blue men and catch them where they warn't expecting him! Those must be
his
guns we'd heared, a long ways off. That was what Marse Robert had been waiting for all day. Now we-all had to keep the Blue men in front of us busy, best we could.

Marse Robert and me, we was right up in the battle. He kept on giving out orders, saying which outfits he wanted to attack and all the rest of it. And attack they did, Tom, yelling like a thousand stallions fighting! I'd come to know that Yell! I wish you could hear it, jest once— it'd scare the fur right off'n your back! It scared the Blue men all right. I couldn't see much, ‘cause by now darkness was falling, but I knowed there was fewer and fewer bullets dropping round us. Not that Marse Robert ever took no notice o'
them
, many or few; and like I told you, I'd larned not to—well, near'bouts, anyways.

It was dark already when some of our soldiers came up to Marse Robert and gave him a cloth on a stick. It was one that had belonged to the Blue men—I could tell that jest from the smell of it as they held it up. Marse Robert, he says that's mighty fine, and shakes hands with a bunch of ‘em. He says he's mighty proud to have sech soldiers fighting for him.

We stopped then—we was ‘bliged to; it was too dark to see no more. But the noise of that fighting in the distance didn't stop. In fact, it growed louder. I figured Cap-in-His-Eyes and his fellas must be fighting in the dark. After a while, I seed all the sky over that way lit up. Oh, Tom, that was a sight! ‘Twas like a huge, long hedge of fire, way off on t'other side of the forest, and it kept sort of swaying and spurting up and down, and all shaking and full of the crashing of the guns. The trees theirselves must ‘a been on fire. You could hear the muskets, too, crackling by the thousand. And it went on half the night before it begun to die away.

I was real tired by this time—hungry, too, and short of sleep. But Marse Robert, he had to go on talking to the officers who kept on riding up to report, so I jest did my best—I reckoned if he could stick it, I could. But all that time he never forgot me. Every so often he'd stroke my neck and say, “Easy, Traveller! Good boy! Soon be time for a rest,” or some sech; and I could tell jest by the tone of his voice that he was better pleased than he'd been all day. Things was turning out the way he'd meant ‘em to.

At last, right into the night, he lay down to sleep there on the ground. So did I. I was tuckered out. Dave brung me a feed—a real, proper feed of oats; goodness knows where he'd found it—but I fell asleep ‘fore I'd finished it. I remember the whippoorwills calling in the woods. Ever heared them? It's an eerie sort o' sound, ain't it? But it didn't bother me none that night.

I didn't sleep long, though. I don't know how much later ‘twas, but anyways not long ‘nuff, when I was woke by a horse being picketed ‘longside me. As I turned over and sniffed at him, I realized I knowed him. He was a horse named Dancer, belonged to one of Cap-in-His-Eyes' staff officers, Captain Wilbourn. You could tell at once't that he was tired out and blowed.

“Howdy, Dancer,” I says. “I thought you'd gone off yesterday.”

“My man's ridden back to report to Marse Robert,” he answered.

“What's happened?” I asked. “I heared the heck of a battle. You in that?”

“Sure was,” he says. “We marched all day, and in the evening we came on a whole bunch o' the enemy. They was jest a-lounging round and cooking supper. They'd no idea at all that we was there. Our fellas piled straight into them—they never had a chance. We was driving ‘em through the woods like they was herds of durned cows. The guns was going forward right with us. You never seed nothing like it. It kept on into the dark—long after dark.”

“I heared it,” I said. “We've whupped ‘em bad, then?”

“Best ever,” said Dancer. “But—oh, Traveller—the general—”

“Cap-in-His-Eyes?” I said, real quick. “What ‘bout him?” But ‘twas like I knowed already.

“He's been hit,” says Dancer. “Wounded something terrible. I reckon he—”

“What happened, for goodness' sake?” I asked.

“It was dark,” said Dancer. “Jest a bit of a moon behind clouds, and we was all in among the trees. The fighting had near'bouts stopped, and the general and my man and quite a few more had gone forward, ahead of our lines, to have a look around and try to find out what the enemy was up to. Coming back, we was fired on—I reckon ‘twas our own fellas got confused. The general's been hit real bad.”

“You mean he'll die?” I asked.

“I don't know,” said Dancer, “but I reckon maybe he will. He's done fighting for a long time, anyways.”

“Sorrel—what about Sorrel?” I says.

“Sorrel and the general was close to me jest afore it happened,” replies Dancer. “It was as if Sorrel'd been expecting it. We was right close to a turnpike in the woods. When the firing started—the first volley—there was a whole passel of the general's people hit and fell off their horses. ‘Twas all confusion in the dark, but the general warn't hit that time. Sorrel galloped off like he was doing his best to get away out of it. But he'd gone hardly any ways at all, ‘crost the turnpike, when there come another volley, and that hit the general. You could see he was wounded real bad. He still stuck on Sorrel's back, though. I seed a branch hit him acrost the face—it tore off his cap and knocked him right back'ards in the saddle, but he didn't fall. He pulled hisself up, grabbed the bridle again and turned Sorrel back towards us. He got him into the turnpike, and that was where my man caught up with them and grabbed the reins. There was horses mad with fright running all ways. Some of ‘em their men had been shot and fallen off, others had jest gone crazy and out of control. I seed four-five gallop off towards the enemy's lines. The whole bunch of us was jest shot or scairt to pieces, that was what it come to. There was no one left around at all, ‘ceptin' for my man and one other. Then my man seed some stranger fella sitting on a horse ‘longside the road, and he told him to go and see where the firing had come from. He went off, but he never come back.

“The general was bleeding something terrible, and he looked awful bad. I reckon he was in a lot of pain. He couldn't dismount—he kind of fell forward off'n Sorrel and my man caught him, but t'other officer had to pull his feet out of the stirrups. They carried him to the side of the road and laid him under a tree. After a bit Red Shirt come up with his fellas. When he seed what had happened, he was real shook. I seed him kneel down and pull off the general's gloves, and they was all full of blood. After a while two-three fellas got him on his feet, but jest then the enemy's guns commenced to firing and there was more confusion. The last I seed of the general, they was holding him up either side and he was doing his best to walk back all through the lines of Red Shirt's men as they went forward to attack. But I figure he's a-going to die sure ‘nuff.”

I could see Marse Robert walking up and down in the light of the fire, talking to Dancer's man. You could see he was shook up bad. Jest for once't he ‘peared throwed completely off balance.

“Oh, Captain!” I heared him say. “General Jackson! General Jackson!”

I couldn't understand the rest, till all of a sudden he busted out with “Those people must be pressed
today
! They must be pressed
hard
!”

He pulls on his boots and someone called up the rest of headquarters. I felt so tired I wondered if'n I could make it, but somehow I did. Marse Robert had jest spread out some food for Dancer's master—yeah, Tom, he did that, right then, with his own hands—and mounted me when another of Cap-in-His-Eyes' officers come up—one I knowed by sight. Marse Robert listened to what he had to say, but he wouldn't let him talk about Cap-in-His-Eyes. “I know ‘bout General Jackson,” he said. “I don't want to hear any more.”

The rest of that night was all coming and going, and Marse Robert giving out his orders. All I understood was we had to attack the Blue men right where they was, in the woods. Whatever had been the finish of the business with Cap-in-His-Eyes, you could hear the battle startin' up again over that way. And all round us, as it growed light, our soldiers was advancing and our guns was firing. Pretty soon, I knowed we must be driving the Blue men back, ‘cause there was their wounded and dead on the ground and we was going right on past them.

And do you know, Tom, what Marse Robert was a-doing while this here battle was going on? He was sitting on my back, jest as nice as you please, talking to some foreign fella—nothing to do with the fighting or our people at all! I could tell this was some sort of foreigner, on ‘count of he had a funny way of talking—something the same as Vot-you-voz. They was conversing jest as easy as if they'd been back home drinking coffee on the stoop. As for me, I was near'bouts asleep on my hooves, ‘spite of all the racket.

We went this way and that—a good mile or more through them woods. Near's I could tell, Marse Robert wanted to make sure our fellas and Cap-in-His-Eyes' lot was finally going to jine up together. I recollect seeing one of our wounded men a-laying there on the ground, waving his cap and shouting, “General Lee! General Lee!” Marse Robert pulled up an' said, “God bless you, my man!” I remember how we stopped off right where some of our guns was firing. The bangs—they shook me from head to hooves. Couldn't see straight, couldn't hear nothing else. Marse Robert, he was jest as calm as always, an' paying no never-mind at all to the enemy shells a-bursting round. I don't know why nothing hit us, but it didn't.

After a while we went forward with them guns. It was a pesky business our poor horses had of it, hauling ‘em through the brush and in and out the soft ground, but after ‘bout half a mile we come to a little bit of a hump rising atop the woods. There was a whole bunch of our guns had been dragged up there. They was jest a-blazing away, and ‘far as I could tell in all the noise and smoke, the Blue men was good as cut to pieces and running off quick as they could. Every now and then I'd catch a sight of little groups of ‘em, doing their best to keep in among the thickest parts of the trees. Their guns kept firing, though, and I seed a plenty of our poor horses go down. Our gunners, they was black from head to foot; and all the time there come a steady stream of wounded fellas back past us—some limping along, some leaning on others and some jest a-dragging theirselves over the ground. One man died almost under my hooves, and no one ‘peared to have a moment even to pull him out the way.

By this time all the woods in front of this here hump we was on was a-burning. First one part would catch fire and then another; then two parts'd jine together and go up in a great roar, high as the trees. You couldn't tell that smoke from the battle-smoke of the guns, nor you couldn't tell the Yell from the shouting and screaming of the wounded trying to get out of the fires. I recollect one of our men—jest a boy, really—going on through the smoke, carrying one of our cloths on sticks and calling out, “Come on! Come on, y'all!” And when he went down, another young fella grabbed the stick right out of his hand, and on they-all went. I've been in a heap o' battles, Tom, but that's one I'll never forget—standing as steady as I could on that there hump and looking acrost the fighting and the burning all around.

Pretty soon, though, Marse Robert was urging me on—well, back towards where we'd started out from, really, you see, ‘cause now all our Army was back together and advancing in a line—if'n you could call it a line, in that place where we was. There can't never have been a mess like that since the world began. There was dead horses, guns blowed up, wheels laying around, limbers overturned, muskets and knapsacks the Blue men had throwed away, blankets, caps, belts—everything you can name. And the dead men—ours an' theirs—was so thick I had to pick my way over ‘em like they was rocks. Some you couldn't scarcely tell they'd ever been men. I went through it all jest like Marse Robert signaled. That's what we call “battle-hardened,” Tom, you know.

At last we got to a kind of an open clearing, where there was a house all afire. You could see where the Blue men had dug up the ground for their trenches, but now the place was full of our fellas. When they seed me and Marse Robert, they went good as wild. There men crowding round us, trying to shake Marse Robert's hand, grabbing at my bridle, cheering—some of ‘em crying, even. One fella laid his head agin my neck and put his arm round it, shouting, “Bless the General! Bless General Lee!” There was thousands all round, yelling, “Marse Robert! Marse Robert! Bless General Lee!” The soldiers was mostly in rags, clothes all tore to shreds from the thickets, faces streaked black, scratched and bleeding. There was wounded fellas lifting up their hands to touch my legs, touch the stirrups—anything.

Then three-four of our fellas come pushing up to us with a whole passel of Blue men they'd taken prisoner. One of them calls out, “Surrendered, General! They're surrendered!” Marse Robert jest nods and salutes, and then he says they was to be taken away to the rear and given some water. But I don't even know if'n anyone could hear him, on ‘count of the whole place was that full o' shouting and yelling. We'd seed some victories, but never one like this'n.