The Tree of Appomattox Part 12

But the men were very cheerful. The little band of skirmishers or sharpshooters under Slade had been brushed aside easily, and now that they were in the valley they did not foresee any further attempt to stop their march to Sheridan. The three colonels shared in the view, and when the men had finished breakfast and dried themselves at their fires they remounted and rode away gaily. High spirits rose again in youthful veins, and some lad of a mellow voice began to sing. By and by all joined and a thousand voices thundered out:

"Oh, share my cottage, gentle maid, It only waits for thee To give a sweetness to its shade And happiness to me.

"Here from the splendid, gay parade Of noise and folly free No sorrows can my peace invade If only blessed with thee.

"Then share my cottage, gentle maid, It only waits for thee To give a sweetness to its shade And happiness to me."

Colonel Hertford made no attempt to check them as they rode across the fields, yet green here, despite the summer's heat.

"They're bravest when they sing," he said to Colonel Winchester.

"It encourages them," said Colonel Winchester, "and I like to hear it myself. It's a wonderful effect, a thousand or more strong lads singing, as they sweep over the valley toward battle."

d.i.c.k, Pennington and Warner had joined in the song, but the youth some distance ahead of them was leader. They finished "Gentle Maid" and then, with the same lad leading them, swung into a song that made d.i.c.k start and that for a moment made other mountains and another valley stand out before him, sharp and clear.

"Soft o'er the fountain, ling'ring falls the Southern moon Far o'er the mountain, breaks the day too soon.

In thy dark eyes' splendor, where the warm light loves to dwell, Weary looks, yet tender, speak their fond farewell.

Nita! Juanita! Ask thy soul if we should part, Nita! Juanita! Lean thou on my heart.

"When in thy dreaming moons like these shall shine again, And daylight beaming prove thy dreams are vain, Wilt thou not, relenting, for thy absent lover sigh?

In thy heart consenting to a prayer gone by!

Nita! Juanita! Let me linger by thy side.

Nita! Juanita! Be my own fair bride."

They put tremendous heart and energy into the haunting old song as they sang, and d.i.c.k still saw Sam Jarvis, the singer of the hills, and his valley, where the paths of Harry Kenton and himself had crossed, though at times far apart.

"Now!" shouted the young leader, "The last verse again!" and with increased heart and energy they thundered out:

"When in thy dreaming moons like these shall shine again, And daylight beaming prove thy dreams are vain, Wilt thou not, relenting, for thy absent lover sigh?

In thy heart consenting to a prayer gone by!

Nita! Juanita! Let me linger by thy side.

Nita! Juanita! Be my own fair bride."

The mighty chorus sank away and the hills gave it back in echoes until the last one died.

"It's sung mostly in the South," said d.i.c.k to Warner and Pennington.

"True," said Warner, "but before the war songs were not confined to one section. They were the common property of both. We've as much right to sing Juanita as the Johnnies have."

All that day they rode and sang, going north toward Halltown, where the forces of Sheridan were gathering, and the valley, although lone and desolate, continually unfolded its beauty before them. The mountains were green near by and blue in the distance, and the fertile floor that they enclosed, like walls, was cut by many streams. Here, indeed, was a region that had bloomed before the war, and that would bloom again, no matter what war might do.

They found inhabited houses now and then, but all the men of military age were gone away and the old men, the women and the children would answer nothing. The women were not afraid to tell the Yankees what they thought of them, and in this war which was never a war on women the troopers merely laughed, or, if they felt anger, they hid it.

On they went through night and day, and now they drew near to Sheridan. Scouts in blue met them and the gallant column shook their sabers and saluted. Yes, it was true, they said, that Sheridan was gathering a fine army and he and all of his men were eager to march, but Colonel Hertford's force, sent by General Grant to help, would be welcomed with shouts. The fame of its three colonels had gone on before.

It was bright noon when they approached the northern end of the valley, and d.i.c.k saw a horseman followed by a group of about twenty men galloping toward them. The leader was a short, slender man, sitting firmly in his saddle.

"General Sheridan!" exclaimed Shepard.

Colonel Hertford instantly ordered his trumpeter to sound a signal, and the troopers, stopping and drawing up in a long line, awaited the man who was to command them, and who was coming on so fast. Again d.i.c.k examined him closely through his gla.s.ses, and he saw the young, tanned face under the broad brim of his hat, and the keen, flashing eyes. He noticed also how small he was. Sheridan was but five feet five inches in height and he weighed in the momentous campaign now about to begin, only one hundred and fifteen pounds! As slight as a young boy, he gave, nevertheless, an impression of the greatest vigor and endurance.

He reined in his horse a score of yards in front of the long line and was about to speak to Colonel Hertford, who sat his saddle before it, Colonel Winchester and Colonel Bedford on either side of him, but there was a sudden interruption.

Fifteen hundred sabers flashed aloft, the blazing sunlight glittering for a moment on their broad blades. Then they swept in mighty curves, all together, and from fifteen hundred throats thundered:

"Sheridan! Sheridan! Sheridan!"

The sabers made another flashing curve, sank back into their scabbards, and the men were silent.

Sheridan's tanned face flushed deeply, and a great light leaped up in his eyes, as he received the magnificent salute. His own sword sprang out, and made the salute in reply. Then, riding a little closer, he said in a loud, clear tone that all could hear:

"Men, I have been looking for you! I have come forward to meet you! I knew that you were great hors.e.m.e.n, gallant soldiers, but I see that you are even greater and more gallant men than I had hoped. The Army of the Potomac has sent its best as a gift to the Army of the Shenandoah. Men, I thank you for this welcome, the warmest I have ever received!"

Again the sabers flashed aloft, made their glittering curve, and again from muscular throats came the thunderous cheer:

"Sheridan! Sheridan! Sheridan!"

Then the young general shook hands heartily with the three colonels, the young aides were introduced, and with Sheridan himself at their head the whole column swept off toward the north, and to the camp of the Army of the Shenandoah which lay but a little distance away.

CHAPTER VI

THE FISHERMEN

The welcome that the column found in Sheridan's camp was as warm as they had hoped, and more. Fifteen hundred sabers such as theirs were not to be valued lightly, and Sheridan knew well the worth of three such colonels as Hertford, Winchester and Bedford, with all three of whom he was acquainted personally, and with whose records he was familiar. d.i.c.k, Pennington and Warner also came in for his notice, and he recalled having seen d.i.c.k at the fierce battle of Perryville in Kentucky, a fact of which d.i.c.k was very proud.

"Now don't become too haughty because he remembers you," said Warner reprovingly. "Bear in mind that trifles sometimes stick longer in our minds than more important things."

"It's just jealousy on your part," said d.i.c.k. "You New Englanders are able people, but you can't bear for anybody else to achieve distinction."

"We don't have to feel that jealousy often," said Warner calmly.

"Merit like charity begins with you at home."

"And modesty can't keep us from admitting it, but you Kentuckians do fight well-under our direction."

"Don't talk with him, d.i.c.k," said Pennington. "Against his wall of mountainous conceit wisdom breaks in vain."

"I'm glad to see you expressing yourself so poetically, Frank," said Warner. "The New England seed planted in Nebraska will flower into bloom some day."

Sergeant Whitley came at that moment and asked them to go and see the new horses provided for them, and the three went with him, friends bound to one another by hooks of steel. The horses given to them by special favor of Sheridan in place of their worn-out mounts, were splendid animals, and Sergeant Whitley himself had prepared them for their first appearance before their new masters.

"They'll do! They'll do!" said d.i.c.k with enthusiasm. "Grand fellows!

They ought to carry us anywhere!"

"Upon this point I must confess myself somewhat your inferior," said Warner in his precise manner. "The mountainous character of our state keeps us from making horses a specialty. You, I believe, in Kentucky, pay great attention to their breeding, and so I ask you, young Mr. Mason, if the horse chosen for me is all that he should be."

"He asks it as a matter of condescension, d.i.c.k, and not as a favor," said Pennington.

"It's all right any way you take it," laughed d.i.c.k. "Yes, George, your horse has no defect. You can always lead the charge on him against Early."

"If I'm not at the very front I expect to be somewhere near it," said Warner. "But don't you like the looks of this camp, boys? It shows order, method and precision. Everything has been done according to the best algebraic formulae. I call it mathematics, charged with fire. Our Little Phil is a great commander. One can feel his spirit in the air all about us."

d.i.c.k himself had noticed the military workmanship and that, too, of a high order, and he understood thoroughly that Sheridan had gathered a most formidable army. It was not much short of thirty thousand men, veteran troops, and he had with him Wright, Emory, Crook, Merritt, Averill, Torbert, Wilson and Grover, all able generals. Nor had Sheridan neglected to inform himself of the country over which he intended to march. With his lieutenant of engineers, Meigs, a man of great talent, he had spent days and nights studying maps of the valley. Now he knew all the creeks and brooks and roads and towns, and he understood the country as well as Early himself, who faced him with as large a Confederate force as he could gather.

d.i.c.k and his comrades expected immediate action, but it did not come. They lingered for days, due, they supposed, to orders from Washington, but they did not bother themselves about it, as they liked their new camp and were making many new friends. September days pa.s.sed and they saw the summer turning into autumn. The mountains in the distance looked blue, but, near at hand, their foliage had turned brown. The great heat gave way to a crisper air and the lads who had come from the trenches before Petersburg enjoyed for a little while the luxury of early autumn and illimitable s.p.a.ce.