The Bright Side of Prison Life Part 14

When we reached the river there were no signs of a ferry, and we walked up and down the river bank for about two miles each way before we found any chance to cross. There seemed to be no ferry, and the chance of crossing was based solely upon the fact that we finally discovered a house on the farther bank, and a skiff tied to a tree near by.

We built our hopes on that skiff, but there was no way to get it at present, and we decided to drop down the river to a secluded place in the bottom and await developments.

Finding the desired place, we went into camp, building a fire, parching some corn, warming up well and getting a good sleep.

In the morning we again went over the ground, but found no better chance to cross, concluding that the owner of the skiff must be the ferryman.

We could not build a raft, as there were no logs lying about which were suitable for the purpose. The river was too deep to wade, and the water was so cold that we were afraid to risk an effort to swim over, especially on account of Miller's aversion to the element, and the necessity of towing him over on a log if we tried this method of crossing; so, after sizing up the situation in all its aspects, we decided to keep quiet until about sundown and then go boldly down to the water's edge at the road and hail the ferryman, taking our chances of results.

Accordingly we again sought our hiding place, and pa.s.sed the day in sleeping and conversation, neither hearing nor seeing anything throughout the day.

At the proper time we emerged boldly from our secluded nook and sought the road, without any attempt at secrecy, having been all over the ground both in the morning and the night before, and having heard nothing since.

A short distance from the road we saw a man on the river bank, and kept right on, taking him to be some stray individual looking for a chance to cross the river, but we had not gone twenty paces after seeing him until we walked right into a picket post of nine men, or, rather, right into plain view of them, they being about fifty yards distant.

There was no help for it but to put on a bold front, and we walked right along about our business. Seeing them watching us, I broke the silence by addressing them and asking the way to the ferry.

They answered, and asked where we were going, to which I responded by saying that we had been hunting for the ferry for an hour or more and were going to cross, walking along in a business-like manner while talking.

The corporal in charge of the picket guard now called to us to come into camp, but we did not hear him, and kept on without hurrying. Then we got a peremptory order in a tone which meant business, and we concluded instantaneously to hear and heed this; so we stopped and asked what they wanted, and walked slowly into camp when the corporal repeated his order, remonstrating against the delay as we did so.

Miller was now so nervous that he scarcely knew on which end he stood, but he quieted down in appearance when I asked him to keep cool, let me do the talking, and back me up.

We were now asked to show our papers, but we had none to show, and by rapid questioning I learned that these men had been guarding the river at this point for some time, but had left the river bank for better quarters when the high water came, and had just camped again when we came up.

Asking the corporal his name, I learned that it was Ed. Rocket, and I then told him that we lived in Rockport, Hot Springs county, and were going home, being soldiers in Captain Stewart's Company A, of the 15th Arkansas, and having come from Magruder's headquarters at Washington.

He then asked for our pa.s.ses, and I told him that he was too old a soldier not to know that we could not possibly have a pa.s.s, it being all that a captain's commission was worth to give leave of absence in those days, stating to him, in explanation of our absence from our command, that we had been in service for over two years without any leave; that when we had begged our captain to let us go home when it was so close he had told us that we could simply slip off, if we would promise to be back in ten days, and he would not report us absent unless that time elapsed before our return, and that we had taken chances on his word, because we wanted to get home so badly.

This seemed to satisfy Rocket that it was all right, and he hesitated for a few minutes before he answered that he would gladly let us go on, but that his orders were positive to let _n.o.body_ cross the river without a pa.s.s or proper papers.

I again remonstrated at the delay and annoyance, and he sympathized with us, but was firm in his unwillingness to disobey positive orders which left no discretion. He finally said he would take us over to headquarters at Arkadelphia and do what he could to get necessary permission for us to cross the river.

There being no other course to pursue, we thanked him heartily and at once fraternized with him and his men.

They had just cooked supper, and we invited ourselves to eat with them, saying that we were almighty hungry, but that they would have to put up with it, inasmuch as we were not exactly willing guests.

We were quite hungry, and we demonstrated the fact by eating the entire quant.i.ty of food which the nine men had prepared for their meal, talking and chatting the while, with the party looking on with open-mouthed amazement at our appet.i.tes, as they waited for two of their number to prepare an additional supply, the extra quant.i.ty being increased as they proceeded, until they really cooked as much more as they had at first prepared for themselves.

Once, while we were eating, Miller inadvertently called me captain, and asked me to pa.s.s him something. Fortunately he did not speak loud, as he was close by my side, but I gave him a look which spoke volumes, and he kept silent thereafter.

After our hosts had finished their supper we started for Arkadelphia, and, while on the road, we learned that the object of guarding the river had been to catch refugee "Arkansaw" people and to head off such natives as might be en route to join the 3d and 4th Arkansas Cavalry, then being organized in Little Rock.

This was our twenty-first night out since leaving the stockade, and we were now 275 miles from Tyler, Texas, and fifty miles from Little Rock--"so near and yet so far."

CHAPTER XX.

IN THE TOILS.

On reaching Arkadelphia we were taken to the provost marshal's office, which was located in a two-room house in the centre of the town, and there we found a lieutenant at the desk in one of the rooms, while fourteen or fifteen men were gathered around an old-fashioned fireplace, telling stories and spending a pleasant evening. Some of these men were soldiers and some were not.

I shall never forget that little room in that old house. It was about twelve feet by sixteen, the walls were bare, the ceiling was low and smoke-stained, the floor was without covering, and the only furniture was the old table which served as a desk for the lieutenant, a number of more or less rickety chairs and the two huge old-fashioned andirons which supported the blazing logs in the enormous, ancient fireplace.

Rocket took the lieutenant aside and told him our story, the evident impression being that it was all right. He then left us.

They had a lot of cooking utensils, bedding, etc., in the second room, and soldiers were pa.s.sing in and out of the rooms at intervals.

As we stood awaiting the termination of the interview between Rocket and the lieutenant, I thought I recognized several of the men in the room, and I was certain as to two of them. It is needless to say that I avoided observation as much as possible, without seeming to do so, and I was not recognized.

As Rocket left, the lieutenant came up to us, and, evidently thinking it necessary, as a matter of form, began asking questions.

I told the same story that I had told to Rocket, while Miller and Rummel got into the crowd before the fireplace, adding that we were from Northern Missouri in the first place, that my wife was the sister of my two companions, that their name was Miller and mine Swiggett, and that we had had to leave Missouri when it had gotten hot up there, coming to "Arkansaw" and joining the 15th "Arkansaw."

While telling this story, which I did in response to questions asked, I could hear comments on the side between the men sitting around, and heard one say that Rockport was not in Hot Springs county, and then another say that it was and that I was right.

These comments disturbed Miller so much that he could not keep quiet to save his soul, and I nearly laughed out aloud as I got a side look at him and saw him shifting nervously from one foot to the other, now rubbing his hands together spasmodically, and then recollecting himself enough to hold them out to the fire as an excuse for the rubbing, every second or two casting a "sheep's glance" over his shoulder at the lieutenant and myself.

His actions evidently excited suspicions, for, just as I was certain that the lieutenant was satisfied, and felt confident that all was well, he asked me whom I knew up around Rockport, and then commenced going back over the same ground again in a cross-questioning sort of way.

I told him that I knew no one up that way except our own folks, and, as I heard a side comment of "d.a.m.ned strange," I turned on the speaker and said emphatically:

"No, it isn't 'd.a.m.ned strange,' if you will let me tell my own story, and not try to put words in my mouth."

"Well, go on," said one fellow, and I continued:

"When we left Missouri and joined the regiment we left our families behind in Northern Missouri. They were ostracized and misused because we had gone off and joined the rebels, and life became a burden to them.

So, when Price made his last raid into Missouri, they were only too glad to come with him and take chances of starving among friends in preference to accepting the grudging charity of the Yankees. They were compelled to stop in Hot Springs county, five miles southeast of Rockport. We have never been in Hot Springs county ourselves, and have not seen our families since we left them in Northern Missouri."

The lieutenant now asked me if I had no papers at all.

Quick as a flash I said "Yes," and produced from my pocket a newspaper published in Washington the day before, which I had picked up on the road as we came in.

He looked at it, laughed, and said that he did not mean that sort of paper, but a pa.s.s or something to prove our ident.i.ty.

I said that we would not be there if we had any pa.s.s, and that I did not see why he doubted a straight statement in accordance with facts.

He now led me into the next room and tried to coax me into confidence with him, but I stuck to my text, and could see that I had him on the run, so to speak, although he had apparently suspected us of being Arkansas Federals.

As we walked back to the office room I saw that poor Miller was as fidgety as a nervous man could possibly be, and his actions, as he quickly held out his hands to the fire and as quickly withdrew them to rub them together in an absent-minded way, caused the lieutenant to look at me sharply and again ask to what regiment we belonged.

This made me mad, and I answered shortly:

"The 15th Arkansaw, as I have told you three times before."

"What brigade?" now followed quickly.