Tales from Blackwood Volume V Part 3

"Can hardly believe that. But four days in the prairie, and nothin' to eat. Well, it may be so. But, stranger, if I had had this bit of tobacco only ten days ago----A bit of tobacco is worth a deal sometimes. It might have saved a man's life!"

Again he groaned, and his accents were wild and unnatural.

"I say, stranger!" cried he in a threatening tone. "I say! D'ye see yonder live oak? D'ye see it? It's the Patriarch, and a finer and mightier one you won't find in the prairies, I reckon. D'ye see it?"

"I do see it."

"Ah! you see it," cried he fiercely. "And what is it to you? What have you to do with the Patriarch, or with what lies under it? I reckon you had best not be too curious that way. If you dare take a step under that tree----" He swore an oath too horrible to be repeated.

"There's a spectre there," cried he; "a spectre that would fright you to death. Better keep away."

"I will keep away," replied I. "I never thought of going near it. All I want is to get to the nearest plantation or inn."

"Ah! true, man--the next inn. I'll show you the way to it. I will."

"You will save my life by so doing," said I, "and I shall be ever grateful to you as my deliverer."

"Deliverer!" repeated he with a wild laugh. "Pooh! If you knew what sort of a deliverer--Pooh! What's the use of savin' a life, when--yet I will--I will save yours; perhaps the cursed spectre will leave me then.

Will you not? Will you not?" cried he, suddenly changing his scornful mocking tones to those of entreaty and supplication, and turning his face in the direction of the live oak. Again his wildness of manner returned, and his eyes were fixed as he gazed for some moments at the gigantic tree. Then darting away, he disappeared among the trees, whence he had fetched his rifle, and presently emerged again, leading a saddled horse with him. He called to me to mount mine, but seeing that I was unable even to rise from the ground, he stepped up to me, and with the greatest ease lifted me into the saddle with one hand, so light had I become during my long fast. Then taking the end of my la.s.so, he got upon his own horse and set off, leading my mustang after him.

We rode on for some time without exchanging a word. My guide kept up a sort of muttered soliloquy; but as I was full ten paces in his rear, I could distinguish nothing of what he said. At times he would raise his rifle to his shoulder, then lower it again, and speak to it, sometimes caressingly, sometimes in anger. More than once he turned his head, and cast keen searching glances at me, as though to see whether I were watching him or not.

We had ridden more than an hour, and the strength the whisky had given me was fast failing, so that I expected each moment to fall from my horse, when suddenly I caught sight of a kind of rude hedge, and, almost immediately afterwards, of the wall of a small blockhouse. A faint cry of joy escaped me, and I endeavoured, but in vain, to give my horse the spur. My guide turned round, fixed his wild eyes upon me, and spoke in a threatening tone.

"You are impatient, man! impatient, I see. You think now, perhaps----"

"I am dying," was all I could utter. In fact, my senses were leaving me from exhaustion, and I really thought my last hour was come.

"Pooh! dyin'! One don't die so easy. And yet--d----n!--it might be true."

He sprang off his horse, and was just in time to catch me in his arms as I fell from the saddle. A few drops of whisky, however, restored me to consciousness. My guide replaced me upon my mustang, and after pa.s.sing through a potato ground, a field of Indian corn, and a small grove of peach-trees, we found ourselves at the door of the blockhouse.

I was so utterly helpless, that my strange companion was obliged to lift me off my horse, and carry me into the dwelling. He set me down upon a bench, pa.s.sive and powerless as an infant. Strange to say, I was never better able to observe all that pa.s.sed around me, than during the few hours of physical debility that succeeded my immersion in the Jacinto. A blow with a reed would have knocked me off my seat, but my mental faculties, instead of partic.i.p.ating in this weakness, seemed sharpened to an unusual degree of acuteness.

The blockhouse in which we now were was of the poorest possible description; a mere log hut consisting of one room, that served as kitchen, sitting-room, and bedchamber. The door of rough planks sw.a.n.g heavily upon two hooks, which fitted into iron rings, and formed a clumsy subst.i.tute for hinges; a wooden latch and heavy bar served to secure it; windows, properly speaking, there were none, but in their stead a few holes covered with dirty oiled paper; the floor was of clay, stamped hard and dry in the middle, but out of which, at the sides of the room, a crop of rank gra.s.s was growing, a foot or more high. In one corner stood a clumsy bedstead, in another was a sort of bar or counter, on which were half a dozen drinking gla.s.ses of various sizes and patterns. The table consisted of four thick posts, firmly planted in the ground, and on which were nailed three boards that had apparently belonged to some chest or case, for they were partly painted, and there was a date, and the three first letters of a word upon one of them. A shelf fixed against the side of the hut supported an earthen pot or two, and three or four bottles, uncorked, and apparently empty; and from some wooden pegs wedged in between the logs, hung suspended a few articles of wearing apparel of no very cleanly aspect.

Pacing up and down the hut with a kind of stealthy cat-like pace, was an individual, whose unprepossessing exterior was in good keeping with the wretched appearance of this Texan shebeen house. He was an undersized, stooping figure, red-haired and large-mouthed, with small reddish pig's eyes, which he seemed totally unable to raise from the ground, and whose lowering, hang-dog expression corresponded fully with the treacherous, restless, panther-like stealthiness of his step and movements. Without greeting us either by word or look, this personage dived into a dark corner of the tenement, brought out a full bottle, and, placing it and gla.s.ses upon the table, resumed the monotonous exercise in which he had been indulging on our entrance.

My guide and deliverer said nothing whilst the tavern-keeper was getting out the bottle, although he watched all his movements with a keen and suspicious eye. He now filled a large gla.s.s of spirits, and tossed it off at a single draught. When he had done this, he spoke for the first time.

"Johnny!"

Johnny made no answer.

"This gentleman has eaten nothing for four days."

"Indeed," replied Johnny, without looking up, or intermitting his sneaking, restless walk from one corner of the room to the other.

"I said four days, d'ye hear? Four days. Bring him tea immediately, strong tea, and then make some good beef-soup. I know you have bought some tea and rum and sugar. The tea must be ready directly, the soup in an hour at farthest, d'ye understand? And then I want some whisky for myself, and a beefsteak and potatoes. Now, tell all that to your Sambo."

Johnny did not seem to hear, but continued his walk, creeping along with noiseless step, and each time that he turned, giving a sort of spring like a cat or a panther.

"I've money, Johnny," said my guide. "Money, man, d'ye hear?" And so saying, he produced a tolerably full purse.

For the first time Johnny raised his head, gave an indefinable glance at the purse, and then, springing forward, fixed his small, cunning eyes upon those of my guide, whilst a smile of strange meaning spread over his repulsive features.

The two men stood for the s.p.a.ce of a minute, staring at each other, without uttering a word. An infernal grin distended Johnny's coa.r.s.e mouth from ear to ear. My guide gasped for breath.

"I've money," cried he at last, striking the b.u.t.t of his rifle violently on the ground. "D'ye understand, Johnny? Money; and a rifle too, if needs be."

He stepped to the table and filled another gla.s.s of raw spirits, which disappeared like the preceding one. Whilst he drank, Johnny stole out of the room so softly that my companion was only made aware of his departure by the noise of the wooden latch. He then came up to me, took me in his arms without saying a word, and carrying me to the bed, laid me gently down upon it.

"You make yourself at home," snarled Johnny, who just then came in again.

"Always do that, I reckon, when I'm in a tavern," answered my guide, quietly pouring out and swallowing another gla.s.sful. "The gentleman shall have your bed to-day. You and your Sambo may sleep in the pigsty.

You have none though, I believe?"

"Bob!" screamed Johnny furiously.

"That's my name--Bob Rock."

"For the present," hissed Johnny, with a sneer.

"Just as yours is Johnny Down," replied Bob in the same tone. "Pooh!

Johnny, guess we know one another?"

"Rayther calkilate we do," replied Johnny through his teeth.

"And have done many a day," laughed Bob.

"You're the famous Bob from Sodoma in Georgia?"

"Sodoma in Alabama, Johnny. Sodoma lies in Alabama," said Bob, filling another gla.s.s. "Don't you know that yet, you who were above a year in Columbus, doin' all sorts of dirty work?"

"Better hold your tongue, Bob," said Johnny, with a dangerous look at me.

"Pooh! Don't mind him; he won't talk, I'll answer for it. He's lost the taste for chatterin' in the Jacinto prairie. But Sodoma," continued Bob, "is in Alabama, man! Columbus in Georgia! They are parted by the Chatahoochie. Ah! that was a jolly life on the Chatahoochie. But nothin'

lasts in this world, as my old schoolmaster used to say. Pooh! They've druv the Injuns a step further over the Mississippi now. But it was a glorious life--warn't it?"

Again he filled his gla.s.s and drank.

The information I gathered from this conversation as to the previous life and habits of these two men, had nothing in it very satisfactory or encouraging for me. In the whole of the south-western States there was no place that could boast of being the resort of so many outlaws and bad characters as the town of Sodoma. It is situated, or was situated, at least, a few years previously to the time I speak of, in Alabama, on Indian ground, and was the harbour of refuge for all the murderers and outcasts from the western and south-western parts of the Union. There, under Indian government, they found shelter and security; and frightful were the crimes and cruelties perpetrated at that place. Scarcely a day pa.s.sed without an a.s.sa.s.sination, not secretly committed, but in broad sunlight. Bands of these wretches, armed with knives and rifles, used to cross the Chatahoochie, and make inroads into Columbus; break into houses, rob, murder, ill-treat women, and then return in triumph to their dens, laden with booty, and laughing at the laws. It was useless to think of pursuing them, or of obtaining justice, for they were on Indian territory; and many of the chiefs were in league with them. At length General Jackson and the government took it up. The Indians were driven over the Mississippi, the outlaws and murderers fled, Sodoma itself disappeared; and, released from its troublesome neighbours, Columbus is now as nourishing a State as any in the west.

The recollections of their former life and exploits seemed highly interesting to the two comrades; and their communications became more and more confidential. Johnny filled himself a gla.s.s, and the conversation soon increased in animation. I could understand little of what they said, for they spoke a sort of thieves' jargon. After a time, their voices sounded as a confused hum in my ears, the objects in the room got gradually less distinct, and I fell asleep.

I was roused, not very gently, by a mulatto woman, who poured a spoonful of tea into my mouth before I had well opened my eyes. She at first did not attend to me with much apparent good-will; but by the time she had given me half-a-dozen spoonsful, her womanly sympathies were awakened, and her manner was kinder. The tea did me an infinite deal of good, and infused new life into my veins. I finished the cup, and the mulatto laid me down again on my pillow, with far more gentleness than she lifted me up.

"Gor! Gor!" cried she, "what poor young man! Berry weak. Him soon better. One hour, ma.s.sa, good soup."