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Authors: Richard Adams

Traveller (29 page)

BOOK: Traveller
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Headquarters only stayed three or four days at that place ‘side the woods, though. I was hoping we'd be there longer, but when you're a soldier there's never no telling. It was a dark, stormy morning when we struck the tent and moved off, and Marse Robert seemed as gloomy as the sky. He kept asking different people ‘bout General Stuart, but whatever he was told it certainly warn't nothing he wanted to hear. We finished up next afternoon at an old sawmill. All the sawmill folks seemed to have gone, so headquarters jest took it over for the night.

In the morning the weather was better, with a nice breeze. “You mark what I say, Traveller,” said Joker as we was being saddled up. “We're going to hit on some Blue men before tonight.”

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“Oh, jest a hunch,” said Joker. “Wherever they are, they're not far off. Don't tell me we've come all this way not to find ‘em.”

Soon's he was in the saddle, Marse Robert called up Old Pete to ride with him. As we set off, I told Hero what Joker had said. Hero ‘peared to be of the same mind. “The horses always know before the men,” he said. “The enemy's near'bouts, sure ‘nuff. Other side of these here mountains we're heading for, I reckon.”

By the time we'd got to the mountains, the road had growed so thick and crowded with our soldiers on the march that Marse Robert and Old Pete took me and Hero on ahead, with the rest of headquarters following. We was well on the way up, and nicely out of all the dust and tromping, when suddenly Hero pricked up his ears.

“Didn't I say so?”

There was no mistaking what we could hear off a ways. It was distant gunfire, coming from the direction in which we was headed. I could tell Marse Robert was wondering what it might mean. You see, Tom, when you're on campaign and you hear guns off out of sight, it may mean nothing much or it may be the start of a battle—there's no telling without you get news back by a horseman. But no horseman came, and Marse Robert was growing more and more impatient and uneasy.

“We're in the dark!” he said to Old Pete. “We're in the dark and that's the truth of it. We've been in the dark ever since we crossed the river.”

We reached the top and looked down on t'other side, which was all steep ravines and gorges. The firing was louder now, and there was more of it, but still you couldn't rightly see what was happening.

“I'm going on ahead!” says Marse Robert to Old Pete, and with that he put me into a gallop and down the hill we went, leaving Old Pete to wait for his own soldiers to come up.

Pretty soon we came to a little town, and this was where we met up with Red Shirt. Red Shirt was a while talking with Marse Robert, but when I asked Champ, his horse, he told me they didn't know what the firing meant any more'n what we did. It was kind of rolling, hilly country we was in, and the sound of the guns came echoing from the other side of the hills. Red Shirt rode off to try to find out more, and when he was gone Marse Robert walked me forward a little ways, leaving the rest of headquarters a-waiting where they was. I could tell jest from the feel of his hands and the way he was sitting that he was worried.

“Oh, Traveller,” he says, stroking my neck, but more like he was talking to hisself, really. “Oh, Traveller, what
can
have become of Stuart? We ought to have heared from him long before now.”

Another general rode up to us—one of Red Shirt's commanders— but I could tell he didn't know what was going on neither.

“If that's their whole Army,” Marse Robert says to him, “we'll have to fight a battle
here
. But there's jest no telling.”

They didn't talk much more. Marse Robert called up headquarters and we galloped on towards the sound of the firing. We could hear musketry now, as well as the guns, and I could see a long cloud of smoke on the horizon.

I don't exactly recollect, Tom, how long we kept going—several miles, that's for sure—but finally we left the hills behind and came out into more open country. And here we found whole crowds of our fellas, all spread out and waiting. I could see now that there was fighting going on up ahead, in the distance.

It was a hot afternoon. We waited there, Marse Robert and me, while he set about finding out what was going on. I could smell the crushed thyme in the grass, which was all tromped down, and there was any number of grasshoppers zipping away. It's funny, ain't it, how nothing disturbs them fellas? I remember dropping my nose for a bit of a browse round—Marse Robert never minded that—and I seed one sitting and rubbing his back legs together where I could almost have munched him up. He flew away—well, they good as fly, don't they?— when some officer planted one of our red-and-blue cloths on sticks right there, to show where Marse Robert had taken up his position.

It was plain that pretty soon the word began to get round that me and Marse Robert had arrived at this here battle. You see, Tom, when Marse Robert was running a battle, there was always horsemen coming and going to tell him what was happening and take his orders. I'd come to know a lot of the courier horses by now and mostly they came from Jine-the-Cavalry. Not this afternoon, though. These was Red Shirt's officers. Jine-the-Cavalry's outfit ‘peared to have vanished off the face of the earth.

To begin with, ‘far as I could make out, the Blue men was hard at it getting back out of our way; anyhow, their guns warn't firing like they'd been when Marse Robert and me first heared them up the mountain. But then they suddenly started up again, way over beyond the outskirts of the town, and a few minutes later one of Red Shirt's commanders come galloping up to Marse Robert. I knowed his horse, a chestnut called Trumpeter, so I asked him what was a-going on.

“We've got them beat all to a frazzle,” says Trumpeter. “They've all run away into the town back there, but we're fixing to take that, too.”

“Then what are their guns firing for,” I asked, “over there on the sunset side?”

“It's the Bald General's fellas coming up,” says Trumpeter. “They'll roll the Blue men up, after the licking they've jest had from us.”

I could tell that Marse Robert had told Trumpeter's man to go back and order his ‘uns to attack. Oh, Tom, you should ‘a heared that Yell as they went forward! Marse Robert and me, we went forward jest behind them, and in less than an hour ‘twas all over. We'd driven those people right out of the town and cut them up real bad. I remember how Marse Robert rode me downhill, over the creek at the bottom and up onto the ridge t'other side. We could see the town plain now, about half a mile below us, with two hills beyond it. The Blue men was all a-running off towards the hills—masses of ‘em. Anyone could see they was licked, but there was still a few more up atop them hills.

Jest as I was wondering what we'd be doing next, up comes Old Pete on Hero. Old Pete took a long look at the town and the Blue men near the hills, and then he began talking almost afore Marse Robert had said a word. ‘Course, I couldn't understand what he was saying to Marse Robert, but what I did know, Tom—and no horse could have mistaken this—was that he was laying down the law and more or less telling Marse Robert jest what he ought to do. He was saying what orders Marse Robert had best be giving and where our fellas had to go.

Marse Robert listened quietly—well, you know, Tom; you know yourself Marse Robert seldom lets anything upset him—and after a little he jest said something like if'n the Blue men was there, then we must attack them. But this didn't seem to suit Old Pete. He broke in and said a whole lot more, and I knowed Marse Robert was beginning to feel angry. I couldn't help wondering whether he'd tell Old Pete straight out that it warn't him that was commanding the Army. I reckon he might have, too, only jest then Colonel Long came up to report, and after him another officer I didn't know, whose horse told me they'd come from General Ewell—the Bald General—who'd got his ‘uns already into the town.

Old Pete seemed to me to have turned real sulky. ‘Far as I recollect, he hardly answered the next time Marse Robert spoke to him, and soon after that (it was getting on to evening now), he rode off—to get back to his men, he said, who was coming up by the same road we'd come by.

There was no more firing now from anywhere ahead, and Marse Robert and me set off down the hill for the town, ‘long with Major Taylor and a few more. I remember how we went by a passel o' prisoners standing round the outskirts. Some of them recognized Marse Robert and pointed him out as we went by.

We pulled up at a house jest outside town. There was a little rose garden there, all in bloom, and a power of horses hitched to the rails. I could see the Bald General limping down the path to meet Marse Robert as he dismounted—the Bald General had a wooden leg, Tom, you know; he'd lost a leg in the fighting—and some of his commanders ‘long with him. The Cussing General—General Early—was one of them. I always thought of him that way, ‘cause I don't believe he ever spoke without a-cussing, even when he was talking to Marse Robert.

All I can tell you, Tom, after all this time, is that I knowed at once't that the Bald General was feeling powerful jittery. You could tell that jest by looking at him. Whenever I smell evening roses now, it makes me recollect being hitched to that fence and seeing the Bald General and Marse Robert and the Cussing General and the rest walking off into a little kinda wooden house set among the roses and talking as they went.

The Bald General's horse was hitched right ‘longside me. “What's the matter with your master?” I asked. “I thought your outfit had took the town and whupped the enemy?”

“They have,” he answered, “but now, ‘parently, my man don't know what to do next. They've all been trying to tell him, but he can't make up his mind. He's like that, you know. He's a good master to me and all his fellas like him, but it's always the same—he can't decide for hisself.”

Well, the sun moved around and down into the west, the flies got less troublesome and the air began to cool, and still we-all stood there, blowing and stamping, while the generals talked in the rose garden. There was a fine red sunset and if'n you didn't know otherwise you'd have thought it was jest as nice and peaceful an evening as could be.

I kept looking at those two hills sticking up on the far side of the town. Hoof and tail! I thought. What is there to be a-talking ‘bout all this time? Even I can tell we ought to get on and take those hills afore the Blue men can dig in on ‘em. I remembered how much care Marse Robert had taken before the battle in the snow, when him and me was riding round and fixing our guns where they'd be able to shoot whichever way the Blue men came at us. That's what we call a good field of fire, Tom, you know. If'n only we could get some guns up on those hills now, I thought, the Blue men'd be running away like they did two months ago in the forest. I wish Sorrel was here. I wish Cap-in-His-Eyes would come a-riding round the corner now, and hitch Sorrel up and give me a pat and a word. I wanted my feed and I could have drunk a bucket and more. Only, we didn't get none, ‘cause no one knowed how soon our generals would be done and wanting us.

Well, at last Marse Robert and the Bald General came out of the rose garden, still talking together. All I could tell from looking at them was that Marse Robert was pressing the Bald General to do something and the Bald General didn't like it. Marse Robert kept turning his head and stressing what he was saying with his hands, and the Bald General kept on jest a-listening and nodding, saying very little and looking down at the ground. He warn't like Old Pete; he warn't argufying back. He put me more in mind of a horse that's gotten afeared of something in the road—you know, a pile of sacks, maybe, or a milk churn—and jest don't want to go on past it.

A minute or two later we was riding away, back to the ridge where we'd talked to Old Pete. Headquarters had been fixed up in a little house jest below the ridge and overlooking the town. I remember the stable had plenty of rats—Joker said he figured you could walk on ‘em—but I was too tired to take much notice. Soon as he'd fed and watered us, Dave lay down to sleep in the hay, jest like that. I'd come to know what that meant. Orders must ‘a been given for a mighty early start next morning.

XV

Well, it turned out an early start, all right—one of the shortest nights I can remember. The whole of headquarters was up and astir in the dark, a good while before first light. I'd been half-hoping Marse Robert might be riding Lucy—after all, the day before had been hard ‘nuff for me—but ‘twarn't to be. I knowed then he must be expecting to come under fire. Lucy's a good horse and I've always got on well with her, but she never really got used to the bangs, you know—not surprising, ‘cause she hadn't been given to Marse Robert for that in the first place. She'd been given him to ride when he couldn't use his hands, all on ‘count of me a-throwing him down that day. Anyway, I found myself saddled up again and I recall the sun was jest rising when me and Marse Robert came back up that ridge.

Marse Robert turned me around, and then he sat still a long time, looking out acrost the plain below. I never liked that open country, Tom, you know; I mean, all that country up beyond the big river we'd crossed over. ‘Twarn't proper country, like where we'd come from— not like the river country where we'd so often beat the Blue men afore now. There was fewer trees, and too much of it was open and flat. What's more, the grass was different and there was too much sky. That morning the sky was clear from one horizon to t'other—clear blue, but sort of purple along the rim. I could tell ‘twas going to be a real scorching day. I s'posed the battle was to be fought down on the plain; but if ‘twas, there warn't ary a Blue man to be seed yet.

I could soon tell there was something bothering Marse Robert. His seat warn't easy and natural, his hands was taut on the reins and he kept looking round like he was waiting for someone who hadn't come. Our headquarters majors was with us, and after a while he sent Major Venable off towards the town—to talk to the Bald General, I reckoned.

BOOK: Traveller
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