Part 28 (2/2)

”Well, ain't we in theirs?”

General Armstrong, his men out of ammunition, made his own plea to fall back. But the orders were to hold. Hood was at Sugar Creek with the army; he must have time to cross. It was late afternoon when Forrest at last ordered the withdrawal, and they made it in an orderly fas.h.i.+on.

Through the night the rear guard toiled on and a little after midnight they reached the Sugar in their turn. Drew splashed cold water on his face, not only to keep awake, but to rinse off the mud and grime of days of riding and fighting. He could not remember when he had had his clothes off, had bathed or worn a clean s.h.i.+rt. Now he smeared his jacket sleeve across his face in place of a towel and tramped wearily back to the fire where his own small squad had settled in for what rest they could get.

Croff was sniffing the air, hound fas.h.i.+on.

”Ain't gonna do you no good,” Webb told him sourly. ”Theah ain't nothin'

in the pot, nor no pot neither--'less Kirby 'membered to stow it last time. Lordy, m' back an' m' middle are clean growed together, seems like.”

”Feast your eyes, man! Jus' feast your eyes!” Kirby unrolled his prized coat. In its folds was a greasy package which did indeed give up a treasure--a good four-inch-thick slab of bacon squeezed in with a block of odd, brownish-yellow stuff.

They crowded around, dazzled by the sight of bacon, real bacon. Then Drew pointed at the accompanying block.

”What's that? New kind of hardtack?”

”Nope. That theah's vegetables.” Kirby spoke with authority.

”Vegetables?”

”Yeah. These heah Yankee commissaries bin workin' out new tricks all th'

time. They takes a lot of stuff like turnips, carrots, beets, all such truck, an' press it into cakes like this. 'Course you have to be careful. I heard tell as how one blue belly, he chawed the stuff dry an'

then drank water; it bloated him up like a cow in green cane. Poor fella, he jus' natch.e.l.ly suffered from bein' so greedy. But you drop it in water an' give it a boil....”

”Looks like hay,” Drew commented without enthusiasm. He picked it up and sniffed dubiously.

”Man,” Webb said, ”if the Yankees can eat hay, then we can too. An' I'm hungry 'nough to chaw gra.s.s, were you to show me a tidy patch an' say go to it! How come you know all 'bout this hay-stuff, Anse?”

”We found some of it on the _Mazeppa_. The lieutenant told us how it worked--”

”The _Mazeppa_!” Webb breathed reverently, and there was a moment of silence as they all recalled the richness of that capture. ”We sh.o.r.e could do with another boat like that one. Too bad this heah crick ain't big 'nough to float a nice bunch of supplies in, right now.”

Kirby produced the pail dedicated to the preparation of coffee. But since coffee was so far in the past they could not even remember its smell or taste, no one protested his putting the vegetable block to the test by setting it boiling in the sacred container.

”Don't look like much.” Webb fanned away smoke to peer into the pail.

Kirby had also produced a skillet, made from half of a Yankee canteen, into which he was slicing the bacon.

”It's fillin',” he retorted sharply. ”An' you didn't pay for it, did you? A man who slangs th' cook--an' the grub--now maybe he ain't gonna find his plate waitin' when it's time to eat--”

Webb drew back hurriedly. ”I ain't sayin' nothin', nothin' at all!”

Drew grinned. ”That's being wise, Will. Times when a man can talk himself right out of a good piece of luck. It's hot and fillin', and you got bacon to give it some taste....”

With hot food under their belts, a fire, and no sign of orders to move, they were content. Kirby and Croff followed the old Plains trick of raking aside the fire, leaving a patch of warmed earth on which all four could curl up together, two men sharing blankets. As the Texan squirmed into place beside him Drew felt the added warmth of the plundered coat Kirby pulled over them. This had not been too bad a day after all, or rather yesterday had not; it was now not too far before dawn. They had made their play at Anthony's Hill and had come out of it with horses, some food, and a few incidental comforts like this coat. Now after eating, they had a chance to sleep. It seemed that Forrest was going to pull it off neatly again. Drowsily Drew watched the rekindled fire. They would make it, after all.

He awoke to find a thick white cotton of fog enfolding the bivouac. The preparations they had made again of rail and tree breastworks to greet the Union advance were no easier to see than the men crouched in their shadows. It would be a blind battle if Wilson's pursuit caught up before this cleared; one would only be able to tell the enemy by his position.

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