^ ^vAA/VVV,W>y\V> rl^ ^ *^. THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA LIBRARY THE WILMER COLLECTION OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS PRESENTED BY RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. iTfr.:: ^f ^mf. This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE CENTS a day thereafter. It was taken out on the day indicated below: .U.H LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT ^ Moxvi of mc Witcx I CAPTAIN • : .x^'I.LEi", United States Scout AU'f!! ^v Cr " GILI'aRT THE TRAPPER," ETC., ETC. NEW YORK JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 150 Worth Street, corner Mission Place Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2009 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hil http://www.archive.org/details/lukebennettshideOOashl LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. CHAPTEE I. SUEROUNDED BY SHARPSHOOTERS. " Chips, how long have you been in the service ?" " About twenty five years, man and boy." " Well, I want to know if you ever before saw a naval expedition leave the water, and go philander- ing off through the woods, as we are doing now." The speaker was a trim young gunboat officer, dressed in the uniform of an acting ensign. The companion whom he called " Chips '' was an elderly man, who wore upon the lappel of his coat the badge of a warrant officer. He was the carpenter of the vessel to which the two belonged. It was the sec- ond dog watch — the only hours on shipboard that are devoted to fun and recreation. Supper was over, the boats had been hoisted at the davits, the boarding nettings triced up, and the hundred and seventy men composing the crew, with the exception of the few that were on duty, were gathered on the gun deck, smoking their pipes and conversing in low and guarded tones. There was no laughing or singing, no loud noise of any sort. The banjo and violin were silent, and for three days the boatswain's mate had not been called upon for the usual hornpipe. The face of every one on board, from the captain down to the 6 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. youngest wardroom boy, wore an expression of anx- iety; and when I come to tell you just how they were situated and what they were trying to do, you will not wonder at it. The crew of the gunboat Decatur had been through many a hard fought battle on the Mississippi river and its tributary streams, but they had never been in so much danger as they were at that moment. They did not know at what instant the springing of the rattle might call them to quarters to fight for their lives, and to defend their vessel from the assault of overwhelming boarding parties. " I wonder if any boat ever went through here be- fore," continued the young ensign, as he and his companion walked up and down the main deck, with their hands behind their backs. * " Oh, yes," replied the carpenter. " The streams that rUn through these swamps are all navigable for little cotton traders, and there was a good deal of traffic done between this country and Vicksburg be- fore the war. There were a large number of plant- ers through here then, and they raised big crops of cotton and corn." " They must have done their farm work with boats instead of mules," said the ensign. " The water is three feet deep all over the lowlands." " More than that in some places," answered Chips. " The Mississippi is so high that McPherson's corps, which is supposed to be operating with Grant against Vicksburg, is at Lake Providence, seventy miles away. They can't find dry ground to camp on any nearer than that. But you must remember that this lias been an uncommon winter for high water and heavy rains, and that the levees that were built to protect the country from overflow have not been touched since the war began. More than that, they have been cut in several places to let the water of SUBEOUNDED BY SHABPSHOOTERS. 7 the river into the bayous, so that our gunboats could make overland expeditions." " And what have they amounted to ?" said the en- sign, in a tone of disgust. "The attempt to get the boats down to Red River by way of Lake Providence has proved a failure ; the batteries at Haines* Bluff were altogether too strong for us; the Yazoo Pass exj)edition has been whipped and driven back; and now the Decatur and four other vessels have come up here into Steel's Bayou to leave their bones. If we've got to fight, I would rather face the batteries of Vicksburg than three or four regiments of sharp- shooters any day iu the week." "Here, too," said Chips. "We can fight a bat- tery with some hope of success; but we can do noth- ing with men who skulk behind trees and logs, and pop at every fellow who shows his nose at a port hole. I don't like the idea of being confined below from daylight until dark, and having but one cooked meal in twenty four hours. I wish the enemy would quit their bushwhacking tactics, bring some boats over from Vicksburg, and make an attempt to take us by boarding. We would give them a lesson in gunboat fighting that would stay by them for one while, I bet you." " They are not such fools," replied the young offi- cer. " As long as they can annoy us at a distance with perfect safety to themselves, they are not coming to close quarters to face hot water and shrapnel, you may depend upon that.'* Chips was not the only one on board the Decatur who wished that the concealed sharpshooters, who had been constantly harassing them for the last three days, would show themselves in force, have a fair fight, and whip or get whipped. Although it was no later in the season than the middle of March, it was uncomfortably warm below, as it always is on 8 LUKE BENNETTS HIDE OUT. board an iron clad when the engineers are obliged to keep up steam; but it was against orders for any- body to show himself on deck during the daj^time, and dangerous as well. The banks of the bayou and all the surrounding country were under water, but there was a narrow strip of dry ground on the right hand bank, which was thickly covered with briers, bushes and cane, and on this ridge the four thousand sharpshooters, that had been sent out from Vicksburg to harass the ex- pedition, found secure hiding places. Sometimes they W' ould send their bullets against the Decatur's thick armor like hailstones, and then they would be- come so quiet that the crew told one another that they had grown tired of wasting their ammunition and gone back to the city; but if some imprudent and foolhardy fellow put his head out of a port to take observations, ho was sure to become a target for a dozen or more concealed marksmen, some of whom proved to be dead shots. After three men had been killed outright, and as many more desperately wounded, the Decatur's crew concluded to obey or- ders and keep under cover. There were four other gunboats in the expedition, and they were all an- noyed in the same way. These incidents, and others which I shall try to describe in this story, happened in the spring of 18G3, and the place where they occurred w\'is within fifty miles of Vicksburg, which at that time was so strongly fortified that it was called the " Gibraltar of America." If you have paid close attention to your history, you will remember that General Sherman and Admiral Porter made a combined assault upon Vicksburg during the fall and winter of the previous year, but their efforts were not successful. The low- lands were so deeply covered with water that General Sherman could not use more than five of the twenty SURROUNDED BY SHARPSHOOTERS. 9 thousand men that composed his army, and the forti- fications at Haines' Bluff, which was situated on the Yazoo River, eleven miles from Vicksbui-g, were too strong for the gunboats. More than that, the river was filled with torpedoes, one of which sent the finest boat in the fleet, the Mound City, to the bottom in seven minutes. After this failure General Grant took command in person, and then began a series of operations and maneuvers whose magnitude astonished the loyal but impatient people of the North, who were waiting anxiously for something to be done. Among tliese operations were the " overland ex- peditions " that were undertaken by the gunboats and transports. The first, which left the river at Yazoo Pass, was composed of two heavy gunboats, one wooden ram, and transports enough to carry five thousand soldiers. The water course they followed was so narrow and tortuous, and so completely blocked with fallen timber, that it took them four days to go eighteen miles. They found water every- where, and on a little island at the junction of the Tallahatchee and Yallabusha Rivers, a little fort mounting eleven guns, which successfully resisted their further progress. , The commanding general, who had many things to think of during those troublous times, was much concerned for the safety of this expedition. Rein- forcements would have been of no use in a country that was covered with water, for the troops could not leave their transports. Relief, if it came at all, must come from another quarter; so he and the ad- miral resolved to get into the Yazoo River below the fort, cut it off from all help from Vicksburg, and capture the garrison. With this object in view, the Sunflower expedition, coasistiag of five gunboats, four mortar boats, and 10 LUKE BENNETT'S HmE OUT. a number of transports loaded with soldiers, was sent into Steel's Bayou from the Yazoo Kiver. This was the one to which the Decatur belonged. No one, unless ho did a soldier's duty during the Vicksburg campaign, can imagine the difficulties and dangers that boset this expedition from the day it started until it got back to the open river. The way was bad enough at the best; but in order to make it worse, the Confederates sent over a body of sharp- shooters, who not only cut trees across the bayous in front of the gunboats, but shot every one of the crew who dared show his head at a port hole. This was the way Ned Marsh and his shipmates were situated on the night I introduce them to the reader. Of course, under these circumstances the navigation of the narrow, crooked steam through which the fleet was slowly working its way, was irk- some and perilous in the extreme. It was no w^onder that the crew chafed and fretted, and longed for a fight to break the monotony. " Boat ahoy !" hailed the sentry on the forecastle. He did not shout out the words as if his boat had been at anchor upon the broad bosom of the Missis- sippi, but spoke them in distinct tones just loud enough to reach the ears of the persons for whom they were intended. " Ay, ay I" was the answer to the hail. " A wardroom officer from one of the other ves- sels," exclaimed the young ensign. "He is coming down wdth muffled sticks, too," he added, as a dingy, propelled by four noiseless oars, shot past the De- catur's bow and rounded to under her after guard. " Who is he, and what does he want hero at this time of night ?" About five minutes later this question was an- swered in a way that made Ned Marsh's hair stand on end. A MISSION OF DANGER. 11 CHAPTER 11. A MISSION OF DANGEE. Naval etiquette requires that, on ordinar}" occa- sions, an officer above the rank of ensign shall be re- ceived at the side during the day time by the officer of the deck, the boatswain's mate, and two or more side boys, the first saluting, the latter uncovering their heads and the boatswain blowing his whistle. At night he is received with lanterns, the boatswain and his pipe being dispensed with. But this was not an ordinary occasion. A lantern would have proved a tempting target to one of those watchful sharp- shooters on the ridge, and its use would have been contrary to orders; consequently the visiting officer had to scramble aboard in the dark, and there was no one at the side to meet him except the officer of the deck. The two were strangers to each other, but that did not prevent them from exchanging a few hurried sentences. " How is everything at the front ?" whispered the Decatur's officer. "Bad enough," answered the visitor. " I don't see how things could be worse. We are completely hemmed in by sharpshooters, more are coming in every hour, and there is at least a quarter of a mile of fallen timber before us. We can't stir, and we've got to have help this very night. Now, take me to the^ captain, please. I've got dispatches for him which are made out in duplicate, and he must send them to Sherman without a moment's delay." 12 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. . Tho officer of the deck complied with the request, and then came back to his post and told Chips and Ned Marsh what tho visitor had said to him. " Duplicate dispatches, eh ?" muttered Chips. " That means that two of our ship's company are go- ing to get disagreeable orders before they are many minutes older. The admiral thinks it is going to be a ticklish piece of business to get word to Sherman tonight, and so he sends two dispatches, hoping that if one of them is captured or lost, the other may wriggle through." The carpenter had hardly ceased speaking when the captain's clerk, breathless and excited, came up the stairs in two jumps, closely followed by the or- derly. The former was bare headed, and it was against the law for any one to come upon the quarter deck unless he was properly covered; but the officer on duty did not take him to task for it as he would have done under almost any other circumstances. " Oh, boys !" exclaimed the clerk, at the same time laying his hand on Marsh's shoulder, "here's the very mischief to pay. We are going to leave our bones up here, sui'e pop." " What do you mean by that, and what do you want of me ?" demanded Marsh. " The captain wants to see you. You've got to go and hunt uji Sherman. We are ordered to get ready to blow up the ship." "No!" exclaimed his three auditors in a breath. " Yes, we are. The admiral has sent word to the captain that he is surrounded by the enemy on all sides, that he can't handle his boats without exposing his men to certain death, and that he's going to send tho whole fleet to kingdom come before he will let it fall into the hands of tho enemy. This is what comes of trying to take gunboats overland." Ned Marsh waited to hoar no more, but started A MISSION OF DANGER. l3 post haste for the captain's cabin. He took a very white face in there with him. He was nobody's coward — he had been twice j)romoted for gallantry in action — but he wished his commander had selected some one else to take one of those dispatches down to General Sherman. *' Sit down, Mr. Marsh," said the captain, whose face wore an expression of anxiety and distress that the young officer had never seen there before. " Mr. Andrews will be in in a moment." " So my chum Bob is in for it, too, is he ?" thought Marsh. " I am glad to hear it. Bob is a fellow of good judgment and undoubted courage, and if I am unlucky enough to get into trouble, he may be able to go through." Young Marsh seated himself in the chair that was pointed out to him, and waited impatiently for his captain and the visiting officer to go on with the con- versation which they had brought to a close when he came in; but they seemed to have nothing further to say to each other. The expression on the captain's face told him, in plain language, that affairs at the front were quite as bad as the clerk said they were. In a few minutes the door opened again, and an- other white faced young officer came into the cabin. This was acting ensign Andrews, in whose courage and judgment Ned Marsh had so much confidence. He looked inquiringly at Marsh, and then his ejes wandered to a couple of heavily weighted official en- velopes that lay upon the captain's table. These were the all important dispatches, which were to be thrown overboard, in case the bearers found them- selves in danger of falling into the hands of the enemy. " Young gentlemen," said the captain, who never wasted any words in giving an order, " here is a dan- gerous piece of business for you to perform. These 11 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. dispatclios," laying his band upon tbo weighted en- velopes, "are so very imj^ortant, that the admiral has instructed to send them by two different officers, starting off one half an hour in advance of the other. I have neither seen nor heard of the transports since we left them behind the day before j'esterday, and they are probably ten or fifteen miles down the bayou. I shall send no crew with you, for I don't want to run the risk of losing them. We have captured a good many skiffs and dugouts since we left the liver, and you will find the best of them on the after- guard, from which you can make your own selections. Of course you know what to do with these documents in case you get into trouble," he added, handing each of the boys one of the weighted envelopes. "Mr. Andrews, you will start at once; and Mr. Marsh, you will follow in half an hour. Find Gen- eral Sherman before jon come back. I think that is all. Good by, and good luck to you." These young fellows held a high place in the esti- mation of the caj)tain, who was a regular officer, and he was by no means as indifferent to their fate as he pretended to be. There was a suspicious moisture in his eyes when he arose from his chair to take leave of them, and there was something in the linger- ing grasp of his hand that thrilled them to every fiber of their being. It seemed as though the older sailor imparted to them some of his own indomitable courage; and when they said their farewells and hurried from the cabin, it was with the firm determination that those dispatches should go through, no matter how many perils and obstacles they found in their way. " I can only repeat the captain's words, Bob," said Ned, as he held out his hand to his friend. " Good by, and good luck to you." " The same to yourself," replied Bob. " I would A MISSION OF DANGEE. IS rather go into battle this minute, than to leave the vessel and pull off down that dark bayou, but I shipped to serve my country, and if I can do it by carrying dispatches, v^^hy the old man might as well send me as to put a better fellow in danger. Good by." As Bob said this, he seized his side arms (a belt containing his sword and revolver) and ran out to report to the officer on watch. A few seconds later Ned stood at the break of the quarter deck while a light skiff, that had been caj^tured somewhere along the bayou, was pushed into the water, and then he saw Bob get in and pull swiftly and silently away into the darkness. Ned had no time to be lonely or to indulge in gloomy forebodings after Bob went away, for he had matters of his own to attend to — a duty which no soldier or gunboatman ever neglects when he is called upon to go into danger. He had a letter to finish, and instructions to give regarding the dispo- sition that was to be made of his property if he fail- ed to return. Chips was his friend on this, as upon every other occasion, and Ned knew that he had but to hint at a wish in order to have it carried out. " Mail the letter at the first oj^portunity, but hold fast to the trunk until you receive positive proof that I am dead," said the bo}^, earnestly. "If I am captured, I may turn up again most unexpectedly, and make a demand upon you for my clothes. It is nothing uncommon for a prisoner to escape and make his w^ay back to his vessel, you know, and I don't want my mother to be frightened half to death unless there is some reason for it; so I say again, hold fast to the trunk as long as you can." It soon became known among the ship's comj)any that Bob Andrews had gone off with dispatches with- out stoi^ping to bid anybody good by, and that Ned 16 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. Marsh was soon to follow him down the bayou. In less time than it takes to toll it, tlie lattei's little stateroom was crowded with sympathizing friends and messmates, who wanted to shake him by the hand and give him a word of encouragement. Chii:)S kept close watch of the deck, and presently saw the orderly come up and report six bells — eleven o'clock. " Very good," replied the officer. " But don't make it so." The usual command, for every hour except merid- ian, is: "Make it so;" that is, "go forward and strike the ship's bell so that every one on board may know what time it is." But on this x:)articular night the order given was: ''Don't make it so." The offi- cer was pacing the deck with nothing but the empty hammock nettings to protect him, and he knew that the very first stroke of the deep toned bell on the turret would bring a shower of bullets about his ears. He had heard so many of them during the last few hours, that he was glad to be allowed a short breathing spell. "Time's up, boys," said Ned, jumping to his feet. " Take good care of yourselves, and look to see Bob and mo come back with another stripe around our sleeves." Accompanied by all his friends Ned ran down the stairs that led to the after guard, and laid his hand upon a light dugout which he had hel2:)ed capture the day before. Chips protested that the cranky lit- tle thing would spill him out before he was fairly away from the side, but the boy was so determined to have his own way in the matter that his friends finally i^ut the canoe into the water for him, and saw him glide away out of their sight. LOST IN THE SWAMP. 17 CHAPTER in. LOST IN THE SWAMP. A CELEBRATED naval commander, in commenting upon a very dangerous but exceedingly brilliant ex- ploit that had been successfully performed by one of the officers of his fleet, made use of this remarkable language : " Other men are wanted for similar deeds of valor. The rewards are sure. They are honor, fame, pro- motion and death." Ned Marsh thought of these words as he turned the bow of his dugout away from the vessel and sent it flying off into the darkness, and wondered which of these rewards would fall to the lot of him- self and his friend. Bob Andrews. When his canoe shot into the first bend in the bayou Ned faced about and took a long, lingering look at the spot where the noble vessel, which had been his home ever since he put on the " honored blue," was lying at her moorings, The darkness was so intense that he could not see the faintest out- line of her. She seemed to be shut off from him by a solid wall of ebony, and the young officer strained his eyes in the vain effort to pierce through it. In front of him the same black wall loomed up. There was no moon, the night was cloudy and star- less, and, to make matters worse, the thick branches of the trees, which grew on each side of the narrow channel, were closely entwined overhead, forming a 18 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. natural arbor so dcnso and raattcd that the raJ'B of a vertical sun could scarcely penetrate it. Knowing the full value of the precious document Lo carried in his pocket, Ked laid out all his strength on his paddle, and, somewhat to his surprise, ho never encountered a single obstacle. If there was any in his j^ath some unseen power turned his canoo away from it. During the two hours that followed ho did not once pause to take breath. The current in the bayou was sluggish, backed up as it was by the high water in the Mississippi, but still it heli)ed him along a little, and finally Ned be- gan to ask himself why he did not hear a challenge from some sentry. Ho was positive that he had come between ten and fifteen miles since he left the Decatur, and a j^eremptory command to halt would have been a cheering sound to his ears just then, but he listened in vain to hear it. He knew that he could not have passed the transports in the dark, be- cause the bayou was so narrow that ho could not run by them. " Can it be possible that I have lost my way ?" thought Ned, the cold chills creeping all over him. "H I have, good by, Decatur; good by, home and mother, and everything else that is worth living for." And if ho failed to get through, and something happened to prevent Bob Andrews from giving liis dispatch into General Sherman's hands, what would become of the gunboats and their helpless crews ? Ned fairly gasped for breath when this inquiry forced itself upon him, and his paddle bent under the increased strain he put upon it. But with all his great anxiety and nervousness he did not forget to be very cautious in his movements. His paddle rose and fell with noiseless, measured LOST IN THE SWAMP. 19 stroke, and his boat glided through the water with scarcely a ripple disturbing the surface; but silent as his progress was, it was detected. Loud and long, and with startling suddenness, the bay of a hound arose upon the air. In the deep hush of night the melodious notes sounded forth with as much volume as those of a steam whistle. Ned Marsh could remember the time, and it was not so very long ago either, when he thought the voice of a hound was the sweetest music in the world; but he did not think so now. It made him tremble in every limb, for it told him that there was danger near. At the moment the watchful hound gave tongue the canoe glided i^ast a point of bushes, which grew in water so deep that Ned could not touch the bot- tom with his paddle to check his headway, and out into an open space about twenty yards long, at whose farther end were the smoldering remains of a camp fire. It had almost burned itself away; but still the coals that were left threw out light enough to enable Ned to see that there were four men lying beside the fire, and that the fifth had raised himself to a sit- ting posture, and was rubbing his eyes, preparatory to waking up. The man was a Confederate soldier; there was no doubt of that in Ned's mind, for he could see the fire light shining on the buttons of his jacket. To stop where he was meant capture, and to go on meant something worse, the boy told himself, for he did not see how he could get by that clear space without being discovered; but the latter was the only course that was open to him, and he determined to try it, hoping to accomplish his object before the man got his eyes open. He made ihvQO swift, noiseless strokes with his 20 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. paddlo, and then drew it in and laid his hand upon his revolver. Under the impetus thus given to it the canoe shot ahead, and, after a few seconds of sus- pense, Ned wound his arms around a tree on the op- posite side of the glade, and held himself there. He was afraid to go on till that man had gone to sleep again; for there were no bushes to conceal him, and the trees grew so far apart that it would be an easy matter for even an indifferent marksman to pick him off as he moved among them. But Ned Marsh knew that the majority of the men who wore gray jackets were anything but poor shots with the rifle. He had learned that their aim was fatally accurate, and it was not his intention to run any risks. He kei:>t his canoe stationary by holding fast to the tree, and took good care to keep his brass but- tons out of sight behind it. All this while the hound continued to give tongue Instil}', and now three or four companions joined in with him, although they did not know which way to look to find the object their leader was barking at. By their united efforts all the men in camp were at last brought to a sitting posture. " I wonder if those are some of the hounds that are used to hunt our poor fellows who try to escape from Shreveport and Tyler," said Ned to himself. " If they are, I would like to put a ball into the last one of them; and if they are," he added, a moment later, trembling all over with excitement and alarm, " I have stumbled upon some of the very worst men in the rebel army." "What in the name of sense and Tom Walker is the matter with the dogs ?" growled one of the men who had just been awakened. " They haven't got on the trail of a Yank, have they ?" " No, I reckon not," answered one of his com- LOST IN THE SWAMP. 21 panions, getting up to mend the fire, an action on his part that caused the listening Ned no little un- easiness. "We ain't a hunting Yanks now, for we can get enough of that up in Tennessee. We're after bear and nothing else. Bogus scented a coon, most likely." When Ned heard these words, and saw the prepa- rations the campers made to go to sleep again after silencing the hounds, ho told himself he understood the situation perfectly. They were all soldiers — their uniforms showed that — Ibut they had come home on leave of absence to see their friends and go bear hunting. At any other time Ned Marsh, who was an enthu- siastic young sportsman, would have been glad of an invitation to join them; but just now he wanted them to go to sleep, and leave him at liberty to find his way back to the bayou and down to the transports. He was fully satisfied by this time that he was lost. The camp fire was on the right bank of the bayou, and when he came along there on board the Decatur a few hours before, he took note of the fact that there was not a foot of dry land to be seen in that direction. It followed, then, as a matter of course, that he had left the Rolling Fork (that was the name of the bayou in which the fleet was tied up for the night), and turned into one of the numerous little streams that branch off from it in every direction, and there he was, on the borders of an extensive swamp, with darkness all about him, with not a single familiar landmark to guide him in his search for the trans- ports, and with a fair prospect of falling into the hands of the enemy as soon as daylight came to re- veal his presence to them. " I am not caught yet, but for fear that I may be, I will just take this dispatch out of my pocket and 22 LUKE BENNETT'S lUDE OUT. place it on tbo bottom of my cauoo, so fashion," tliouglit Ned, suiting the action to the word. ** Then when I am summoned to come ashore and give my- self ui"), I can jump to my feet in alarm, capsize the boat, and the dispatches will go down among the catfish and gars, while Ned Marsh will take a trip to Texas. Now, then, are those men over going to sleep, I wonder ?" The campers seemed in no hurry to do bo. They were wide awake now, their fire was burning bright- ly, and they sat up to see it burn, composedly smok- ing their pipes and conversing in low tones, while Ned hugged his tree and listened to the beating of his own heart. If they saw his canoe, and Ned did not see how they could heli^ it if they made any use whatever of their eyes, they probably took it for a log which had come down with the current and got stranded there. At length, to the young ofiicer's immense relief, the campers sought their blankets, one after the other, and in fifteen minutes more they were fast asleep again. Then Ned let go his hold upon the tree, placed the blade of his paddle against it, and with one strong push sent his canoe out into the current, which took it into its grasp and carried it slowly out of the light of the camp fire. That danger was passed, but where in the wide world was he, and which way should ho go to find the transports ? NED MEETS A FRIEND. 23 CHAPTER IV. NED MEETS A FKIEND. In blissful ignorance of tlie dangers he was run- ning into, Ned Marsh continued to ply his paddle vigorously, pausing now and then to listen, and to renew his vain efforts to see through the thick dark- ness which concealed even the nearest objects from his view. If he had not been blessed with un- common nerve, his courage would have given way utterly under the crushing sense of desolation and hopelessness that weighed upon him. He was tired and hungry, and began to feel the need of rest " I don't think I had better go ahead in this blind way any longer," thought he. " I am only exhaust- ing myself to no good purpose, and perhaps it would be a good plan to save the little strength I have left for a possible emergency. I believe I'll tie up and wait for daylight." With this object'^in view Ned paddled to the side of the bayou and presently found a tree, to which the painter was quickly made fast. He did not in- tend to go asleep — he did not think it would be pos- sible under the circumstances. He sat there in the darkness with his revolver in his hand, longing for daylight, and listening and hoping in vain, and then he sank back upon the bottom of the canoe, and in two seconds more became oblivious of all surround- ing things. He slumbered peaceably for hours, and at last 2i LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. opened liis eyes to find that it was broad daylight, and started up to discover, to his no small amaze- ment and alarm, that there was another canoe in the bayou, close alongside of him. Its solitary occupant was an old gray headed negro, who gazed at him with eyes that seemed ready to start from their sockets. Scarcely realizing what ho was doing, for he was not yet fully awake, Ned snatched his re- volver and leveled it at the black man's head. " Hi yi !" ejaculated the latter, in frightened tones, at the same time raising his paddle in front of his face, as if he hojied its thin blade would afford him some protection from the deadly bullet. "Luff dat thing down, moss'r, please sar. "What for you wan' go and shoot ole Sam ?" (I have heard a good many plantation darkies talk, but I never yet heard one of them say " massa." If the word is pronounced alone, it is always "moss'r;" if it is followed by a Christian name, it ia contracted to " moss',*' as " Moss' John, Moss' Tom, and so on.) Having got his wits about him by this time, the young officer promptly lowered the threatening weapon. Ho had not the least intention of injuring the old negro, for he well knew that helj), if it came to him at all, must come through people of his clans. " Say, moss'r, what you doing sleeping dar, wid de gray backs all around liyar ?" exclaimed the negro, who felt safer when he saw the revolver disappear behind the side of the canoe. " You mighty foolish Yankee, I tell you dat for a fac'." " I am here because I can't help myself," answered Ned. " I — I think that perhaps I have got a littla out of my reckoning. I couldn't see where to go in the dark, and so I stopped to wait for daylight This is Rolling Fork, I suppose ?" NED MEETS A FRIEND. 25 "Dis hyarl" exclaimed the negro, showing the whites of his eyes in amazement. " No, sar. Roll- ing Fork twenty miles off dat a way," he added, pointing in a direction opposite to the one Ned had been foiiow^ing for the last few hours. " Whar you think you w^an' go, anyhow ?" "I want to go to Rolling Fork," answered the young officer, w^ho had never felt so lonely and for- saken as he did when he heard the negro confirm his worst suspicions. " You can show me the way there, can't you ?" " Not for no money in dis wide w^orld, moss'r !" ex- claimed old Sam, who seemed terribly frightened by the mere mention of such a thing. " De rebbels all around dar now, shooting at de gunboats. Ketch ole Sam, and make him go for a mule whacker, or work in de trenches. Sam too ole for dat kind of business, moss'r, and he don't like de rebbels nohow\ Sam Union to de backbone." "Then you ought to be willing to help a Union man when he is in trouble," said Ned, w^ho thought seriously of compelling the darky, at the muzzle of his revolver, to take him back and show him w^here Rolling Fork was. It is probable that he would have done so, had it not been for an unexpected in- terruption that occurred before he had got his plans fully matured. " What have you got in there ?" Ned went on, pointing to a bundle that lay in the bottom of the negro's canoe. " If it is anything good to eat, trot some of it out, for I am almost famished." The negro's canoe was loaded with provisions, and he quickly complied with the hungry officer's com- mand to " trot some out." Ned grew hungrier than ever as his gaze rested upon the good things that were disclosed to view when old Sam threw off the snow white cloth that covered the bundle. 26 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. There were two huge " pones " of corn bread, ■which had doubtless been baked in a Dutch oven; as many roasted chickens, and a whole side of bacon; a big i^ail of milk, and a peck or more of sweet po- tatoes. " No man over put up that lunch," said Ned. "It's a woman's work. Where did it come from, and where are you taking it?" " My missus done x^ut it up, an' tole me to tote it down to her boy — ni}^ young Moss' Luke," answered the negro. *' I reckon you call dis mighty good grub, don't you ? You jes' oughter been down hyar *fore de wah come," added ole 8am, as he j^roceeded to cut off and butter a generous slice from one of the " pones." *' We don't have nuffin' now like we used to have 'fore de g'rillas done come and stole every- thing from us." "The guerrillas!" repeated Ned. "^Tiy, they are your own peoj^le. They didn't steal from you." ** Oh, yes dey did, moss'r," the negro insisted. " Done took every thing 'cepting what young Moss' Luke run off and hid in de cane. Hab dis leg of chicken, too, sah. Buttermilk or sweet milk, sah ? I don't reckon Moss' Luke will car'." " Well, I don't reckon it will make much differ- ence whether ho cares or not," said Ned, speaking as plainly as a mouthful of corn bread and chicken would i^ermit. " Luke is in the trenches at Yicks- burg, of course, and you are taking this grub down to him. Consequently it will bo my duty to confis- cate it for the good of the service. Now, uncle, strike out and show me the way to Rolling Fork. Don't waste any time in argument, but go on. I am in a ^reat hurry." " Wha-wha-wha' you talk in* 'bout, boy ?" exclaim- ed Sam, as soon as he recovered from his amaze- ment. " Doy doJio conscripted olo Moss'r Bennett NED MEETS A FKIEND. 27 an' de bigges' boy into de army, but Moss Luke, lie much too smart for 'em. He done run off and hide in de cane, and de rebbels couldn't cotch him. Moss' Luke jes' as good a Union man as you be, and so is de rest of de family. Dey wouldn't like for ole Sam to go up to de Rolling Fork to be tooken into de army to whack mules and dig in de trenches, kase den who could tote de letters and grub to young Moss' Luke ? He can't come home 'cepting now and then once in a great while, kase de g'rillas would cotch him sure; and ole Sam, he have to do all de business." When this conversation first began, the old negro had brought his boat around, with the bow pointing up stream, and he was now keeping it stationary by holding fast to Ned's canoe, which was still tied to the tree. While he was sj^eaking, Ned noticed that he was always on the alert. From the force of habit, probably, he kept his eyes roaming about among the trees, and occasionally he would bend down so that he could see a longer way through them. This he did while protesting against Ned's order. When he ceased speaking he straightened up like a jack-in- the-box, and seized his j)addle with hands that trem- bled visibl}'. "De good Lawd, look down on us poor miserable niggers 1 Dar they come dis blessed minute," said he, in a frightened whisper. "They? Who?" demanded Ned, involuntarily lowering his own voice. "De rebbels. Look a dar," replied the negro, pointing up the bayou with his paddle. Ned looked, and saw two or three boats mo"vdng about among the trees. The men who handled them were all dressed in gray, and there were brass but- tons on their coats. LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. CHAPTER V. LEFT TO ni9 FATE. " I KNOW dat fustest man, and lie's de bigges' rebel in Mississii^," whispered tlie negro, who was so bad- ly frightened that he could not talk plainly. " Ole 8am gone up now for a fac' ! He'll have to whack de army mules and break his ole back a dinning wid a shovel, suah.*' "Well, I am not gone up yet," whispered Ned, in reply. " I am gohig to run, and if you know a place of safetj', I want you to take me to it. Be quick and still. They haven't seen us, and we may get away before they can pull on us." As Ned spoke, he cast off the painter with which his canoe was tied to the tree, and with one sweep of his paddle turned the little craft around, and headed her down the bayou. The movement brought Sam to his senses, and at the same time i^ut a little life and energy into him. Seeing that he would be left to face the rebels alone if he did not bestir him- self, he quickly brought his own boat around, and 80 vigorously did ho ply the paddle with his sinewy old arms, that ho soon put himself- in front of Ned; but ho did not attempt to run away from him. "Stick close to your Uncle Sam, and he'll take care of you," said he, in low, excited tones. '* Moss* Luke wouldn't like for me to drap you hyar for dem rebbela to cotch. If I do dat, ho jaw ole Sam, 6uah." I LEFT TO HIS FATE. 31 Better hiding places than these swamps afforded, at the time of which I write, could not have been found anj^wliere in the country. The trees, which grew as close together as they do in any piece of woods on your grandfather's farm, were thickly fes- tooned with mosses and climbing plants, and the wood colored canoes of the fugitives looked so much like the logs that were floating along with the cur- rent, or lying stranded on the snags, that it would have been an easy matter for them to escape discov- er}^ if they could have remained at rest. But dim as the light was in the deep recesses of the forest, it was reflected from the dripping blades of their paddles, and that betrayed them to the sharp eyes of the same watchful hound which had warned his master when Ned Marsh incautiously approached his camp Are. j Once more his deep toned bay rang in the young officer's ears like the knell of death. "Pull, moss'r," whispered the negro, looking back over his shoulder. " Dey begin to bang wid their guns purty soon." "And they are dead shots, too," replied Ned. " Well, the bushes right hyar," said the negro, who had turned out of the bayou and was scudding off over the country at a surprising rate of speed. " Can't see us after we get behind de bushes." Just then a hail from the rear told them that the men in gray had discovered them. " You Sam !" shouted the leader, after silencing the hound, so that he could make himself heard. *' You Sam, what are you running off that way for ? Hold up, or I'll send a bullet after you. There's two of them," he added, a moment later, " and if the other fellow hasn't got a blue uniform on, I'm a nigger myself.'* "A Yank !" shouted one of his comj)anions. "He's a sjDy ! Catch him !" 32 LUKE BENNETTS HmE OUT. " Or a bearer of dispatches," said another. " Shoot him, before he can throw his papers over- board !" Although the men in gray tried their best to carry out both these suggestions, their efforts were un- successful. The bushes of which Sam had spoken were close at hand, and before the pursuers could catch up their guns, the fugitives were out of sight. The bullets and buckshot tore through their frail protection and splintered the bark from the trees, l)ut none of the missiles struck them, although old Sam had a very narrow escape, one of the bullets passing through the side of his canoe. His eyes rolled with fright, but he did not cease his exertions at the paddle. When the rebels came up, he and Ned were not to be seen; and when they gave over looking for them two hours later, they had pushed their canoes so far into the cane two miles away, that a regiment of men might have searched for them in vain. "I ssij, Uncle Sam," exclaimed Ned, taking off his cap and mopping his flushed face with his handker- chief, "it's a lucky thing for us that this country is all under water. If it were not, those rebels could use their hounds to trail us." "Dat's true for a fac'," replied Sam. "Them hound dogs will trail anything, from a bar to a nig- ger. I knows 'em, and de men folks dat's wid 'em, too." "I ran on to their camp last night before I knew it," said Ned, •* and that same hound gave tongue in a way that made me shiver all over. Who are they, any way ? I took them for a party of soldiers who are spending their furlough in hunting." " Dat's jes' what dey is, Moss'r — Jim, did you say your name was ?" " No; you may call me Ned," answered the officer. LEFT TO HIS FATE. 33 who thougTit that perhaps his sable companion would feel more at his ease, if he knew how to ad- dress him. "Wal, dat's what dey come for," continued the negro, " to hunt bar and see their folks, and do all kinds and sorts of meanness to their neighbors who don't think jes' as they do." " Do you mean to say that there are any Union people around here besides the darkies ?" inquired Ned, who, like a good many of the rest of us, thought that every man who wore a gray jacket must of neces- sity be a rebel at heart. "I do, for a fac'," answered Sam, earnestly. " There's heaps and stacks of jes' as good Union folks in Mississip as ever you dare be. Moss' Ned. But I can't talk to you 'bout dat, kase I'se a nigger, and I don't know much; but I'll take j^ou to my young Moss' Luke's hide out as soon as it comes dark, and he will tell you a heap of things." " Must I stay here until dark ?" exclaimed Ned, who wondered what would become of the gunboats in the meantime, if Bob Andrews had not already succeeded in getting through with his dispatches. " I wouldn't have had this happen for anything. It may prove to be a terrible piece of w^ork for me, but I don't see how I could have avoided it. Do you think your master will be willing to act as my guide to Boiling Fork?" " No, sar, I don't," replied the negro, emphatical- ly. "You see, the Johnnies is conscripting every- body, from de little boy, jes' big enough to tote a shooting iron, up to de ole man what ain't got strength enough to tote himself, let alone a gun, and dey's been tr3dng for a long time to get a holt of Moss' Luke and de four 3'oung fellers dat's wid him. Moss' Luke won't go no nigher to Vicksburg dan he is now, I bet you.'* 34 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. Ned was very much disappointed to hear this, for, late as it was, he still cherished the hope that he might deliver his dispatches in time to be of some service to the beleaguered men on board the gun- boats. But it was useless to think of making an at- tempt to find the general, now that that huntiiig part}' had found out that he was hiding somewhere in the swamp. Knowing that he had important l^apers in his jiossession, Ned believed that they would let the bears rest in peace for a ^^hile, and draw a bee line for Rolling Fork, with the intention of capturing him when he tried to deliver those papers. "Well," said Ned, with a long drawn sigh of resig- nation, " it is useless for me to cry over what I can't help. I think I had better get some sleep while I can. Tomorrow I may be dead or a ]>risoner." " No, sar," said the negro again. " Trust to your Uncle Sam, INIoss' Ned, trust to your Uncle Sam. You go to sleep now, and he will take care of you." With the utMiost confidence in the negro's loyalty, Ned wrapped his boat cloak around him, lay down in his canoe, and, with his dis])atclies under his head for a pillow, sank into the land of dreams. And how fared it with Bob Andrews all this while ? By some extraordinary streak of good luck, such as might not have attended him again in a hun- dred years, he kept his skiff in the bayou, witliout once wandering away into any of the little sticams til at branched off from it, and in due time he was halted by a sentry statioiuMl at the f(U"ecastle of the leading transport. His dis]>at('hes were given into tlie hands of the officer for whom they wei'e intend- ed, and in less than a quarter of an hour afiei-ward, the steamer was trying to force her way up Black Bayou in the direction of llolliug Fork. LEFT TO HIS FATE. 35 But it was slow and tedious work, for the pilot did not know tha channel, and the night was so dark that he could not see where he was going. Becom- ing impatient at last, and perhaps urged on by some- thing he heard Bob Andrews tell one of his staff re- garding the perilous situation of the gunboats, the general ordered the troops to disembark and jnish forward on foot. They floundered through the overflow to the ridge before s^Doken of, along which they lighted their way wdtli candles carried in their hands. With infinite difficulty they marched a mile and a half t]iat night, and then went into camp until morning. By noon the next day they had covered twenty one miles more, scattered the sharpshooters like chaff before the wind, and saved the fleet. While Ned Marsh was slumbering there in the cane, the Decatur was backed out of the bayou toward the Mississii:)pi, leaving him to his fate. Bob Andrews, with tears in his eyes, reported that Ned had not been seen on board the general's trans- port, and then they knew that one of three things had happened to him He was either lost, killed or captured. Rough old Chij^s Avas almost heart broken. The missing officer was a great favorite with him, as in-> deed he was with every one on board the vessek 36 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. CHAPTER VL A GREETING IN THE DARK, It seemed to Ned Marsli that Le had scarcely closed his eyes when a hand was laid gently ou his shoulder, and old Sam's voice -whispered in his ear: " Time to wake up, now, nioss'r. Take a little bite of something to eat and a good drink of milk, and den we will go and find Moss' Luke. Hi, yi ! won't he open his eyes when he sees a live Yankee come up to his hide out?" It was jDitch dark again, and at first the young offi- cer did not know where he was. He could not see the negro or his canoe; l)ut he managed to find the bread and chicken and the cu^i of milk tliat Sam was trying to put into his hands, and he was quite hun- gry enough to disj^ose of them. " How far is Luke's hide out from here ?" asked Ned, wdio wondered how many more hours he would have to pass in that intense darkness before he could see the face of a white man again. " Wal, it's a right smart piece," was Sam's rci)ly. " Is it a mile ?" " I reckon so, sar." "Is it five miles?" " Mebbe it is, sar." Ned saw veiy j^lainly that it was of no use to try to get any information out of Sam. The latter did not intend that even a Union gun- boatman should gain the faintest idea regarding the locality of that hide out, if he could help it. A GEEETING IN THE DARK. 37 Ned admired Lim for his loyalty to his young master. He said no more until he had finished his bread and milk, and then he passed back the empty cuj) and announced that he was ready to start. The first thing the negro did was to take Ned's painter and make it fast to a ring in the stern of his own canoe. This was to prevent them from becom- ing separated in the darkness, and the young officer was glad that Sam thought of it, for even after he got out of the cane into the open swamj^ he could not see the nearest trees. Sam must have had owl's eyes in his head, Ned told himself, for although the canoes grazed some of the trees as they passed, they did not come in actual contact with a single one of them. At the end of half an hour the negro said: " Now, Moss' Ned, you stay right hyar till you see me agin, I must ax Moss' Luke what he thinks 'bout my bringing you to his hide out. I'll be back d'rectly." While Sam was speaking he cast off the j^ainter that held the two boats together, and moved away so silently that Ned did not hear the dip of his pad- dle; but in a few minutes he heard something else that told him which way his sable friend had gone. It was a perfect imitation of the bark of a red squir- rel. It was faint and far off, and so was the answer, which came to his ears a moment later. Another half hour i^assed away, and then Ned w^as startled by hearing a voice, almost at his elbow, saying: " Is you dar. Moss' Gunboat ?" How Sam had managed to find his way through that dark and trackless swamp back to the very tree where he had left him w^'is something the young officer could not understand. He replied that he was there; whereupon another voice said, in well modulated and courteous tone: 38 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. " I "bid you welcome, sir, to tliis most inhospitable country. I can't see you, but there is my hand, if you can find it." Ned did find it after a while, and he knew by the heart}" ic:rip it gave his own that he had found an- other friend. *' ]\Iy name is Luke Bennett," continued the new- comer; "and it may put you at your ease to know that I am hiding in this swamp to keep from going into the rebel army. It is enough for me to know that you are in trouble and want help, and it is none of my business what brought you out here. But I should judge that you were sent on detaclied duty of some sort, and that you got bewildered among these bayous." " That's just it," replied Ned. " I am very anx- ious to see one of our officers, to whom I have an im- portant communication to make. Can you show me the way to Rolling Fork ?" " I am sorry to say that I cannot," rei)lied Ned's in- visible friend. " Even Sam could not find his way through in the dark, and it would be as much as our lives are w^orth to attem2)t to go there in the day- time. The hunting party, that Sam tells me you had an adventure Avitli this morning, is made uj) of a bad lot of citizens, who will leave no stone un- turned to effect tlie capture of myself and conijiaji- ions, and we dare not shoAV ourselves abroad until their leaves of absence expire and they go back to the army. The only thing you can do is to remain my unwilling guest until the way is clear, and then I will take you back to your friends again, if there is any possible chance for me to do it. I will feed you well and take good care of you." Ned Marsh was disappointed again; but there seemed to be nothing for him to do but to acce]it the invitation thus freely and cordially given. He A GREETING IN THE DAEK. 39 said as mucli, at the same time expressing his hearty thanks for his new friend's kindness and courtesy. " Of course that's understood," answered Luke Bennett. "Some writers say that our good acts spring from selfishness, and I am free to confess that it has a good deal to do with my invitation. I am sorry that you are in trouble, but glad that you will have to stay with us for a speJl. My friends and I get very lonely, hiding here as we do, like so many hunted wolves; and the sight of a new face, and the sound of a strange voice, provided, of course, that the face and the voice do not belong to a Johnny, are always welcome to us." "Do you mean to say that you have visitors?" in- quired iSfed, bending over to assist Sam, whose hands were moving along the bottom of the canoe search- ing for the painter. " I shouldn't think they could find you in this swamp." "They can, and they do frequently," said Luke, with a light laugh. " You see, we keep a station on the underground railroad. AYe don't assist negroes to get over to Canada, as you Northern people did before the war, but we help all the deserters we see, who are tired of army life, and want to go home. Are you made fast, Sam ? Then come on. The boys will get uneasy if we don't show uj) pretty soon." Ned Marsh was profoundly astonished by the turn affairs had taken, and if he had only been sure that Bob Andrews had taken his dispatches through in safety, and that General Sherman's troops had gone to the relief of the gunboats, he would have felt perfectly at his ease. He had often told himself that the South must have been a pleasant country to live in before the war, because he there found something that he had never before seen or heard of — a refined and cul- 40 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. turecl society, with an abuiicLauce of game, both large and small, almost witliiu sight of the doors of aristocratic homes. Of course there Avas more igno- rance among the masses than there was in the North, fur there was not a single State in rebellion that had a system of common schools worthy tlie name; but the well-to-do people were, as a rule, educated. Luke Bennett, if one might judge by the language he used in conversation, had not only enjoyed ex- ceptional educational privileges, but had made the most of them. He talked like a Northern ])oy, and with good reason, too, for he had received most of his schooling in tlie Empire State. Ned Marsh was not at all averse to camping out for a while, seeing that he could not help himself; and he was glad to learn that among his companions there would be at least one boy who knew as much of the world and of books as he did himself. Al- though he had not seen even the outlines of Luke Bennett's face and figure, Ned thought he could give a pretty good description of him. For ten or fifteen minutes silence reigned, broken only by the occasional splash of a paddle; and then a continuous grating along the side of his canoe, accompanied by several sharp blows in the face, told Ned that he was being towed into another cane- brake. It was a long way through it, biit the other side Avas reached at last, and then Ned found liimself standing on dry ground for the first time in twenty four hours, and in full glare of a cheerful camp fire. The moment the bow of his boat grated on the bottom, it was seized by ready hands, which pulled it high upon the bank, while others were extended to help him ashore. As he had forgotten to tell Luke what his name was, he was obliged to intro- duce himself. A GREETING IN THE DARK. 41 " My name is Edward Marsh, and I am acting en- sign on board the gunboat Decatur," said he. " I am sorry to be here, for I have left a most important duty undone; but since I am here, I am glad to meet you." Ned's recej^tion could not have been more cordial and friendly, and it had the effect of putting him at his ease at once. He seated himself on the rude camp chair that was placed in front of the fire for his accommodation, and then turned to look at the leader of this little party of refugees, to whom he felt himself drawn in some unaccountable way. He was just such a fellow as Ned imagined him to be, after hearing his voice in the dark. He did not appear to be more than seventeen years old, but he was as tall as a man, as straight as an arrow, and his broad shoulders seemed to indicate that he i)os- sessed plenty of strength. He walked with a springy step, and was as quick as a cat in his movements. His features were finely cut, his face was as brown as an Indian's, and his long black hair, curling at the ends, fell down upon his shoulders. He was dressed in a complete suit of butternut, which was patched in several places, but he wore it with the air of a prince. He did not look like a boy who would run from his own shadow, and Ned told himself that if Luke was afraid to go to Kolling Fork, he did not want to go there, either. 42 LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT. CHAPTER Vn. LUKE BENNETT AND HIS FRIENDS. Of course Luke Bcnuctt aud bis four friends were quite as much interested in Nod Maisli as tlie latter was in them. The youii