He returned after the boys and Tatanka had gone to bed, but they were still awake, because Tatanka had been telling them how many years ago, he and five other men had gone on the warpath against the Chippewas, the hereditary1 enemies of the Sioux.
The Chippewas used to come down in canoes on the Mississippi and fall upon an unsuspecting Sioux camp. After taking a scalp or two they would leave their canoes and return north across the forest. The Sioux would follow them, but they could seldom accomplish anything because they were always in danger of being ambushed2 by the retreating Chippewas. It was one of those stories Tatanka had just told with much detail.
“Where have you been, Mr. Barker?” the lads asked.
“I have been scouting,” the old man answered, apparently3 in high spirits. “I have taken a look at the rivers and the country and have visited with soldiers and officers and other men.
“I have also sent a letter to your parents.”
“How did you do that!” the boys inquired eagerly.
“One of our soldiers tied it to a piece of green wood and threw it over the Confederate breastworks.
“It may not be delivered, but I took a chance at it.”
The boys asked many other questions, but the old man would not talk and told the boys it was high time to go to sleep.
In the morning he told them that they were all to walk down toward the mouth of the Yazoo.
“We may camp there somewhere to-night,” he said, “and we may come back. We’ll put plenty of lunch in our pockets, but we leave all our stuff right here.”
They did not have to walk all the way. Various conveyances4 were going in their direction. It turned out that Barker didn’t really want to go to the mouth of the Yazoo; instead he took his party several miles farther close to the bank of the Mississippi, about a mile above the place where the union line touched the river. Here they made camp under a clump5 of low trees and Barker went to a neighboring farm house for a jug6 of water.
“We might as well eat,” Barker suggested when he returned. “You boys must be hungry as wolves after our long tramp this afternoon.”
“May we build a fire?” the boys asked.
“No, I think we had better not,” the old man replied. “It might attract some visitors that we don’t want to-night.”
In the far North, the midsummer twilights last a long time. Along the international boundary one can read in the open until nine o’clock, but in the South, daylight passes quickly into night.
When the four travelers had finished their supper it was dark.
“Mr. Barker,” asked Tim, “are we going to stay here all night? It will soon be pitch-dark.”
“Yes, it will be very dark. It is cloudy and it looks as if we might have a storm,” admitted the trapper.
The lads were mystified by Barker’s answer, but Bill felt that the trapper did not wish to answer any questions and that he had some secret plan to carry out.
But little Tim was less discreet7. “Shall we build a lean-to?” he asked.
“No, Timmy,” the old man answered, smiling. “I reckon we won’t. If the good Lord sends us a shower to-night, I reckon we’ll just get wet. The rains in this country are warm and it will not hurt us to get wet.
“Let’s go down to the river and see the water run by.”
The trapper led the way under tall trees, and the other three followed in silence. If Tatanka knew anything about Barker’s plan, he did not betray his knowledge by either word or gesture.
At the foot of a large sycamore Barker stopped. It was now so dark that the trees across the river were not visible, but as the boys looked over the steep bank they could just see the bulk of a large dugout swaying in the current under some overhanging branches.
“Oh, Mr. Barker,” Bill whispered, “somebody keeps his boat here. Can you see it?”
“Yes, boys,” the old man replied in a whisper. “I know about it. It’s our boat. I bought it yesterday.
“Just slip down as quietly as you can and lie down in the middle of it. Tatanka and I will do the paddling.
“And no matter what happens, you boys keep quiet. We are going to Vicksburg.”
“Mr. Barker, did you get a pass?” Tim whispered anxiously.
“Never mind, Tim,” Barker ordered, “you just lie still and keep quiet now. Don’t move and don’t speak till I tell you.”
Sitting low in the bottom of the craft, Barker and the Indian paddled the large dugout into midstream, where both shores were lost. For a little while they paddled without making the slightest noise, as if they were hunting moose or deer on their northern streams. Then Barker lifted his paddle out of the water.
“Down!” he whispered. “Lie flat and drift.”
For some time the dugout drifted like a dead log swinging around to right and left with the current. The boys lay absolutely still, hearing their own hearts beat and listening to the low sound of the current against the sides of the dugout.
Barker rose up slowly. “Paddle,” he whispered; “we are drifting into the timber.”
Again they paddled in silence.
A flash of lightning threw a gleam of light over the dark water. A dugout shot out from under the timber on the west bank.
“Who goes there? Halt!” a low deep voice called, and the four travelers heard the click of two guns.
“We are friends,” Barker replied.
“Pull in here!” the order came from the other craft.
Barker steered8 toward the shore and found himself alongside of two Confederate dugouts, with two men in each.
The leader flashed a lantern at the travelers.
“Who are you and where are you going?” he demanded. “Get out; we have to search you.”
The searchers found a piece of fresh beef and two loaves of bread and some coffee.
“That’s rich pickings,” the leader commented. “We haven’t had any beef between our teeth for two weeks.
“Come back in the woods a way and we’ll roast some of it, right away. But we can’t build a fire here. The Yanks have a lot of ammunition9 to waste and they might shoot some Minié balls at our camp-fire.”
Their four captors seemed hungry, for they ate all the bread and meat and drank the coffee as if they had been crossing a desert.
“That was good of you,” the leader remarked. “Wheat-bread, beef, and coffee are rather scarce in our town just now. We’ve been living on corn-meal and mule-steak.
“Now, Stenson,” he continued, “you take this bunch down to the guard-house and they can tell their story to the provost marshal in the morning. I reckon they don’t care to be shot before daylight.”
“Mr. Barker,” Tim asked, after they had been locked in a small room, “do you think they will shoot us?”
“Don’t worry, boys,” Barker said kindly10. “We haven’t done anything they can shoot us for. Just lie down and go to sleep. Thank God, we’re in Vicksburg at last.”
The examination next morning was not very formidable. It was easy for Barker to prove that he and his company were not Northern spies; moreover the meeting of the boys with their parents convinced the military authorities that Barker had told them the exact truth.
“But how did you get past the union gunboats?” one of the officers inquired. “Did you get a pass?”
“If you please, gentlemen,” the old trapper replied with a shrewd smile, “you see we got by and I reckon as long as we don’t want to pass them again, it really makes no difference how we did it.”
The officer was satisfied, but one of his colleagues took up the inquiry11.
“My friend,” he said, with a suppressed smile, “you have shown some ability as a blockade-runner, but your naval12 architecture is peculiar13. Why did you nail that sheet iron to the inside of your ship? Don’t you know that it is customary to put the iron on the outside?”
At this question everybody laughed good-naturedly and with a broad grin, the old man replied:
“Well, you see, gentlemen, I had undertaken to deliver those lads alive in Vicksburg, and I was afraid that some of your men might fire at us before we had time to surrender. I was in a bit of a hurry when I converted that dugout into an iron-clad and I was afraid that she wouldn’t navigate14 well if I nailed the iron to the outside, because I was too much rushed to make a good job of it.”
“Well,” the presiding officer decided15, “I guess we’ll have to let you stay. It would be cruel to send you back. Those Yankee gunners might start practicing on you. Too bad you couldn’t smuggle16 in a little more fresh beef and coffee and white bread.”
“Should have been mighty17 glad to do it,” the trapper assented18, and at that the court adjourned19.
The parents of the lads had received most of the letters the boys and Barker had sent, including the one thrown over the Confederate parapets.
Of Hicks they had neither heard nor seen anything, and by his silence he stood condemned20.
Like most people in Vicksburg during the siege, the Fergusons lived in a cave, where they were fairly safe from mortar21 shells and Parrott shells which the union gunboats and batteries threw into the city every day.
For the sum of fifteen dollars two negroes dug a cave for Barker and Tatanka. Cave-digging had become a profession in Vicksburg and many of the colored men made good wages at it.
Barker and his party had heard a great deal of shooting and cannonading but now they were in the city at which the guns were aimed.
The mortar-boats, anchored below the city, did most of the bombarding. The mortars22 were short guns throwing large shells. They had to be aimed high and the shell fell almost vertically24 or with a great high curve.
This vertical23 fire did not do very much damage, but it drove practically the whole civilian25 population into caves in the high clay-banks. The civilians26 who had remained in Vicksburg had done so against the wishes of General Pemberton, and they were now living in constant terror of the shells, although very few people were injured or killed.
On the second day of Barker’s stay in Vicksburg, the bombardment, beginning at daylight, was especially heavy. Many of the people of Vicksburg had become so accustomed to the rushing and exploding of the shells that they gathered at various high points to watch the shells fly and drop.
Barker tried to induce Tatanka to go with him to Sky Parlor27 Hill, a high point where a good many people had assembled, but Tatanka would not come.
He sat in front of his cave and whenever he saw or heard a shell, he ducked into the cave as the boys expressed it.
“No, my friend,” he said to Barker. “If you said I should fight Chippewas on Sky Parlor Hill, I would come, but of the big roaring shells I am afraid.”
It was in vain that Barker and the boys explained to him that the mortars were not shooting at Sky Parlor Hill, and that the big guns could not aim at any one person. He wouldn’t leave the entrance of the cave.
“You go and come back and tell me,” he said. “I like this place better than Sky Parlor Hill. May be I shall go with you to-morrow.”
At night the mortar shells with their fuses made a wonderful display of grim fireworks. After the shells rose to the greatest height, they fell so rapidly that a trail of fire seemed to be following them. Generally when a shell struck the ground or a building, it exploded, but some remained dead, owing to imperfect fuses, like a fire-cracker that does not go off.
A district in which the shells fell was at once deserted28; and some caves sold very cheap, because their owners did not consider them safe.
The Parrott shells fired from the besieging29 batteries were more feared and did more damage than the mortar shells thrown by the fleet. One of those came with a horrid30 shriek31 and buried itself in the ground in front of the cave in which the boys and their parents were eating their supper. Although the shell did not explode, Tatanka was so scared by it that for the rest of the evening, he would not leave his cave at all.
The next morning, through the courtesy of an officer, Barker received permission for himself and his company to visit the quarters of the officer, a few hundred yards in the rear of the Confederate fortifications.
Here the ground was everywhere strewn with fragments of shells, and with flattened32 and twisted Minié balls which had struck the trees before they had dropped as spent balls. Among the broken shells the ground was peppered with the bullets from exploded shrapnels.
The quarters of the officer were practically a cave, or rather what the early settlers on the Western plains called a dugout. It was built on the same plan on which boys build their little caves to play Indian or Robinson Crusoe, only it was larger and more commodious33. Its opening faced west, away from union and Confederate lines. Its roof of logs and earth was strong enough to afford perfect protection against rifle fire and shrapnel, and it was so located that heavy shells were not at all likely to strike it.
In this place the officer received and made his reports, and here he rested or slept, when he was off duty. However, his hours of rest and sleep were very few, because the Confederate regiments34 were so shorthanded both in officers and men that there was little time for rest and sleep.
The Confederate soldiers had orders not to fire unless they were attacked, because they were short of ammunition, but from the union lines a more or less constant fire of small arms, shrapnel, and heavy guns was kept up day after day.
A pouring rain came up while the four friends were at the quarters of the officer. A torrent35 of muddy water broke through the roof, a big lump of wet dirt fell on the bed, and mud and water covered the floor. The four guests fell to and piled bed, chairs, and table in the dryest corner and protected the clothes and blankets of their host as well as they could, but the place looked as if it could never be made fit to use again. But when Captain Dent36 arrived, he just laughed at the whole mess, as he called it.
“It’s just one of the little accidents of war,” he added. “My man, Harris, will put this cabin in good shape before dark. This is nothing at all. Just think of our starving boys in the rifle-pits. They often have to stand and lie in the mud all day.
“If you gentlemen will lend me a hand, we’ll deepen the trench37 around this mansion38 and stop the leak in the roof.
“You must all stay for supper,” the captain insisted, when the work was done. “I have invited three young officers. You’ll enjoy the company, and if you Northerners are not too particular, you can have plenty to eat.”
Harris, the colored man, began cooking, while Captain Dent showed his visitors around and told them of many interesting incidents connected with the siege.
Then the guests came and Harris announced supper.
“Captain,” one of the young men asked, “what’s this savory39 dish your man is serving us?”
“That,” the captain asserted, without changing a muscle on his weather-browned face, “that’s moose-tongue; moose-tongue from Minnesota. My friend here brought it down.”
“Tied him behind your boat, I suppose?” queried40 the second guest.
“Oh, no; not at all,” Barker promptly41 entered into the spirit of the company. “We used him as motive42 power. He pulled us clear into town.”
The third guest and the boys looked a little puzzled.
“You see,” the trapper quickly explained, “he was a Chippewa moose and dreadfully scared of a Sioux. My friend, Tatanka, here, is a Sioux. Had an awful time getting the beast to stop for camp. Was bound to keep going as long as Tatanka was sitting behind him.”
A ringing laugh went around the table.
“Sir Barker,” the captain took up the conversation, “how many tongues did he have?”
“Well, sir,” the trapper drawled out, “from the noise he could make, I should say about six, sir. He was sure a wonderful beast. We were going to exhibit him in town, but the Quartermaster General took such a liking43 to him that we had to give him up.”
Again a peal44 of laughter went around the table.
“Harris,” said the third guest, “you’ve garnished45 that moose-tongue with green asparagus. Looks almighty46 appetizing. Where did you get it?”
“Wai, massa, I tell you. I cut it myself in de cane-brake in de nex’ ravine. De Good Lord hab started a ’sparagus plantation47 dere, sure ’nuf,” and a broad smile spread over Harris’s face like sunshine. He had really done his best to prepare a feast for his master and now he was happy because his master was pleased.
“Gentlemen, fall to,” the captain urged. “We have here the very best dinner Vicksburg has to offer. The Planters Hotel could not beat it, if President Davis himself was the guest of the city.”
By this time the boys had recovered from their embarrassment48 because they saw the men all acting49 like happy boys. They had never suspected that their fatherly friend, Barker, was so much of a boy, who could laugh and cut up.
They fell to as heartily50 as all the older boys, although the scene of Old Harmony’s team of six rolling down the bluff51 at Fort Ridgely flashed through their minds.
“It tastes just like beef-tongue,” Tim remarked to Bill.
For the present, both host and guests forgot the dangers, the sufferings and the horrors of war. They were all just boys at dinner.
When the company one after the other, began to sniff52 at the odor of coffee, Captain Dent called aloud for Harris.
“Look here, you black rascal,” he accosted53 the surprised cook, “what are you making that smell of coffee with? There hasn’t been any coffee in town for a week.”
“Massa, dat coffee smell is sure no ghost. Dat hunter geman from de North gib it to me and some sugar, too.”
“Where did you get it?” the officers asked with one voice.
“Trapped it, just trapped it. I caught the coffee, and Tatanka crawled up on the sugar.”
A loud boyish laugh rang around the table.
“Three cheers for Barker and Tatanka. May they hunt long and prosper,” the oldest officer proposed, and Bill and Tim joined heartily in the cheers.
“Mr. Barker,” cried the captain, “you and Tatanka paddle your iron-clad up the river and crawl up on some more coffee and sugar.”
How much little gifts of luxuries brighten the life of soldiers in the field can perhaps only be appreciated by those who have for weeks or months been reduced to the barest necessities of life.
After dinner, both host and guests opened their treasure-troves of stories, serious and comic. Then the young officers formed an impromptu54 trio and many songs, sprung up during the great siege, rang through the warm summer night, new words set to old tunes55.
“’Twas at the siege of Vicksburg,
Of Vicksburg, of Vicksburg.
’Twas at the siege of Vicksburg,
When the Parrott shells were whistling through the air.
Listen to the Parrott shells,
Listen to the Parrott shells,
The Parrott shells are whistling through the air.”
Shortly after ten the young officers bade farewell to their host and friends, for at eleven they, as well as Captain Dent, went on duty with their men, behind the parapets and at the batteries.
For a few brief hours they had forgotten sorrow and hunger and the oppressive gloom of probable surrender, which like a hideous56 specter seemed to come creeping a little closer every day.
They might attempt to cut their way out, but the loss of life would be enormous and the sacrifice would most likely be utterly57 useless.
Barker and Tatanka with the boys returned to town on a dark winding58 road.
Down the river they could again see the mortar shells draw their fiery59 curves and after the rise and fall of the fire trail, as Tatanka called it, came the deep booming of the explosion.
Like the officers, they also were thrown back into besieged60 and bombarded Vicksburg, after a few happy hours of jovial61 company.
“We should sleep in the woods to-night and not go back to town,” Tatanka suggested.
“White men can’t sleep in the woods without blankets,” the trapper replied. “We’ll go back to our caves. If we didn’t, the father and mother of the boys would be worried.”
“I think,” Tatanka pointed62 out, after he had watched a shell drop, “some day a big fire-ball will shoot through the roof of our cave and kill us all. We should live in the woods.”
“My friend, we can’t live in the woods.” Barker tried to instruct and calm his fears. “Shrapnel and rifle fire from the union lines sweep the woods everywhere. We would have to dig a cave there.
“If the mortars or Parrott guns begin to drop shells near us, we will move to another place. Until they do, we are safe. Now, don’t be a squaw, Tatanka. Chippewas and hostile Sioux have fired at you many times. Those big shells hardly ever hit anybody; all they do is to bury and bust63 themselves in the clay.”
“All the same,” the Indian persisted, “I don’t like them. I can’t fight them back. I wish we were home in Minnesota. I would not be afraid of fighting Chippewas or bad Sioux. Are we going back soon?”
“We can’t start back until after the siege,” Barker explained, somewhat impatiently.
“Couldn’t we slip out at night?” Tatanka asked.
“We are not going to try it. The gunners on the boats would sink us or shoot us as spies or blockade-runners. I’m all-fired glad that we got in without being sunk or shot. We’re not going to try to get out.”
“How long is the siege going to last?” Bill asked.
“It can’t last much longer, because there is but little food left. The men are all weak and live on half-rations.”
“Couldn’t they cut their way out!” Tim asked timidly.
“They can’t do it. Grant has twice as many men as Pemberton, and Grant’s men are all strong and have plenty of food and ammunition.”
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收听单词发音
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1
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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ambushed
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| v.埋伏( ambush的过去式和过去分词 )；埋伏着 | |
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3
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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conveyances
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| n.传送( conveyance的名词复数 )；运送；表达；运输工具 | |
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5
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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6
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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7
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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8
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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9
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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10
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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11
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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12
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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14
navigate
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| v.航行，飞行；导航，领航 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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smuggle
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| vt.私运；vi.走私 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adjourned
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| （使）休会， （使）休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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21
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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mortars
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| n.迫击炮( mortar的名词复数 )；砂浆；房产；研钵 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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vertically
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| adv.垂直地 | |
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civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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28
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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29
besieging
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的现在分词 ) | |
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30
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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32
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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33
commodious
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| adj.宽敞的；使用方便的 | |
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regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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36
dent
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| n.凹痕，凹坑；初步进展 | |
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37
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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38
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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39
savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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40
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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41
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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42
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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43
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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44
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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45
garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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47
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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48
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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49
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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50
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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51
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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52
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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53
accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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54
impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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55
tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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56
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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57
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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58
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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59
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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60
besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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62
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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63
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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