Part 9 (2/2)
”My uncle, Colonel Kenton, has directed his people to give her help in case of need,” he replied, ”but that means physical help against raiders and guerillas. Otherwise she has sufficient for her support.”
”That is well. War is terrible on women. And now, d.i.c.k, my lad, we'll get our supper. This nipping air makes me hungry, and the Northern troops do not suffer for lack of food.”
The officers ate in one of the cabins, and when the supper was finished deep night had come over the river, but d.i.c.k, standing on the deck, heard the heavy throb of many engines, and he knew that a great army was still around him, driven on by the will of one man, deep into the country of the foe.
The decks, every foot of plank it seemed, were already covered with the sleeping boys, wrapped in their blankets and overcoats. He saw his friend, the young hunter from Nebraska, lying with his head on his arm, sound asleep, a smile on his face.
d.i.c.k watched until the first darkness thinned somewhat, and the stars came out. Then he retired to one of the cabins, which he shared with three or four others, and slept soundly until he was aroused for breakfast. He had not undressed, and, bathing his face, he went out at once on the deck. Many of the soldiers were up, there was a hum of talk, and all were looking curiously at the river up which they were steaming.
They were in the Tennessee, having pa.s.sed in the night the little town of Paducah-now an important city-at its mouth. It was not so broad as the Ohio, but it was broad, nevertheless, and it had the aspect of great depth. But here, as on the Ohio, they seemed to be steaming through the wilderness. The banks were densely wooded, and the few houses that may have been near were hidden by the trees. No human beings appeared upon the banks.
d.i.c.k knew why the men did not come forth to see the s.h.i.+ps. The southwestern part of the state, the old Jackson's Purchase, and the region immediately adjacent, was almost solidly for the South. They would not find here that division of sentiment, with the majority inclined to the North, that prevailed in the higher regions of Kentucky. The country itself was different. It was low and the waters that came into the Tennessee flowed more sluggishly.
But d.i.c.k was sure that keen eyes were watching the fleet from the undergrowth, and he had no doubt that every vessel had long since been counted and that every detail of the fleet had been carried to the Southern garrisons in the fort.
The cold was as sharp as on the day before, and d.i.c.k, like the others, rejoiced in the hot and abundant breakfast. The boats, an hour or two later, stopped at a little landing, and many of the lads would gladly have gone ash.o.r.e for a few moments, risking possible sharpshooters in the woods, but not one was allowed to leave the vessels. But d.i.c.k's steamer lay so close to the one carrying the Pennsylvanians that he could talk across the few intervening feet of water with Warner and Whitley. He also took the opportunity to introduce his new friend Pennington, of Nebraska.
”Are you the son of John Pennington, who lived for a little while at Fort Omaha?” asked the sergeant.
”Right you are,” replied the young hunter, ”I'm his third son.”
”Then you're the third son of a brave man. I was in the regular army and often we helped the pioneers against the Indians. I remember being in one fight with him against the Sioux on the Platte, and in another against the Northern Cheyennes in the Jumping Sand Hills.”
”Hurrah!” cried Pennington. ”I'm sorry I can't jump over a section of the Tennessee River and shake hands with you.”
”We'll have our chance later,” said the sergeant. At that moment the fleet started again, and the boats swung apart. Through d.i.c.k's earnest solicitation young Pennington was taken out of the ranks and attached to the staff of Colonel Winchester as an orderly. He was well educated, already a fine campaigner, and beyond a doubt he would prove extremely useful.
They steamed the entire day without interruption. Now and then the river narrowed and they ran between high banks. The scenery became romantic and beautiful, but always wild. The river, deep at any time, was now swollen fifteen feet more by floods on its upper courses, and the water always lapped at the base of the forest.
d.i.c.k and Pennington, standing side by side, saw the second sun set over their voyage, and it was as wild and lonely as the first. There was a yellow river again, and hills covered with a bare forest. Heavy gray clouds trooped across the sky, and the sun was lost among them before it sank behind the hills in the west.
d.i.c.k and Pennington, wrapped in their blankets and overcoats, slept upon the deck that night, with scores of others strewed about them. They were awakened after eleven o'clock by a sputter of rifle shots. d.i.c.k sat up in a daze and heard a bullet hum by his ear. Then he heard a powerful voice shouting: ”Down! Down, all of you! It's only some skirmishers in the woods!” Then a cannon on one of the armor clads thundered, and a sh.e.l.l ripped its way through the underbrush on the west bank. Many exclamations were uttered by the half-awakened lads.
”What is it? Has an army attacked us?”
”Are we before the fort and under fire?”
”Take your foot off me, you big buffalo!”
It was Colonel Winchester who had commanded them to keep down, but d.i.c.k, a staff officer, knew that it did not apply to him. Instead he sprang erect and a.s.sisted the senior officers in compelling the others to lie flat upon the decks. He saw several flashes of fire in the undergrowth, but he had logic enough to know that it could only be a small Southern band. Three or four more sh.e.l.ls raked the woods, and then there was no reply.
The boats steamed steadily on. Only one or two of the young soldiers had been hurt and they but lightly. All rolled themselves again in their blankets and coats and went back to sleep.
The second awakening was about half way between midnight and dawn. Something cold was continually dropping on d.i.c.k's face and he awoke to find hundreds of sheeted and silent white forms lying motionless upon the deck. Snow was falling swiftly out of a dark sky, and the fleet was moving slowly. In the darkness and stillness the engines throbbed powerfully, and the night was lighted fitfully by the showers of sparks that gushed now and then from the smoke stacks.
d.i.c.k thought of rising and brus.h.i.+ng the snow from his blankets, but he was so warm inside them that he yawned once or twice and went to sleep again. When he awoke it was morning again, the snow had ceased and the men were brus.h.i.+ng it from themselves and the decks.
The young soldiers, as they ate breakfast, spoke of the rifle shots that had been fired at them the night before and, since little damage had been done, they appreciated the small spice of danger. The wildness and mystery of their situation appealed to them, too. They were like explorers, penetrating new regions.
”To most of us it's something like the great plains,” said Pennington to d.i.c.k. ”There you seldom know what you're coming to; maybe a blizzard, maybe a buffalo herd, and maybe a band of Indians, and you take a pleasure in the uncertainty. But I suppose it's not the same to you, this being your state.”
”I don't know much about Western Kentucky,” said d.i.c.k, ”my part lies to the center and east, but anyway, our work is to be done in Tennessee. Those two forts, which I'm sure we're after, lie in that state.”
”And when do you think we'll reach 'em?”
”Tomorrow, I suppose.”
The day pa.s.sed without any interruption to the advance of the fleet, although there was occasional firing, but not of a serious nature. Now and then small bands of Confederate skirmishers sent rifle shots from high points along the bank toward the fleet, but they did no damage and the s.h.i.+ps steamed steadily on.
The third night out came, and again the young soldiers slept soundly, but the next morning, soon after breakfast, the whole fleet stopped in the middle of the river. A thrill of excitement ran through the army when the news filtered from s.h.i.+p to s.h.i.+p that they were now in Tennessee, and that Fort Henry, which they were to attack, was just ahead.
Nevertheless, they seemed to be yet in the wilderness. The Tennessee, in flood, spread its yellow waters through forest and undergrowth, and the chill gray sky still gave a uniform somber, gray tint to everything. Bugles blew in the boats, and every soldier began to put himself and his weapons in order. The command to make a landing had been given, and Commodore Foote was feeling about for a place.
d.i.c.k now realized the enormous advantage of supremacy upon the water. Had the Confederates possessed armored s.h.i.+ps to meet them, the landing of a great army under fire would be impossible, but now they chose their own time and went about it unvexed.
A place was found at last, a rude wharf was constructed hastily, and the fleet disgorged the army, boat by boat. Vast quant.i.ties of stores and heavy cannon were also brought ash.o.r.e. Despite the cold, d.i.c.k and his comrades perspired all the morning over their labors and were covered with mud when the camp was finally constructed at some distance back of the Tennessee, on the high ground beyond the overflow. The transports remained at anchor, but the fighting boats were to drop down the stream and attack the fort at noon the next day from the front, while the army a.s.sailed it at the same time from the rear.
The detachment of Pennsylvanians was by the side of Colonel Winchester's Kentucky regiment, and Colonel Newcomb and his staff messed with Colonel Winchester and his officers. There was water everywhere, and before they ate they washed the mud off themselves as best they could.
”I suppose,” said Warner, ”that seventy per cent of our work henceforth will be marching through the mud, and thirty per cent of it will be fighting the rebels in Fort Henry. I hear that we're not to attack until tomorrow, so I mean to sleep on top of a cannon tonight, lest I sink out of sight in the mud while I'm asleep.”
”There's some pleasure,” said Pennington, ”in knowing that we won't die of thirst. You could hardly call this a parched and burning desert.”
But as they worked all the remainder of the day on the construction of the camp, they did not care where they slept. When their work was over they simply dropped where they stood and slumbered soundly until morning.
The day opened with a mixture of rain, snow, and fiercely cold winds. Grant's army moved out of its camp to make the attack, but it was hampered by the terrible weather and the vast swamp through which its course must lead. Colonel Winchester, who knew the country better than any other high officer, was sent ahead on horseback with a small detachment to examine the way. He naturally took d.i.c.k and Pennington, who were on his staff, and by request, Colonel Newcomb, Major Hertford, Warner and Sergeant Whitley went also. The whole party numbered about a hundred men.
d.i.c.k and the other lads rejoiced over their mission. It was better to ride ahead than to remain with an army that was pulling itself along slowly through the mud. The fort itself was only about three miles away, and as it stood upon low, marshy ground, the backwater from the flooded Tennessee had almost surrounded it.
Despite their horses, Winchester's men found their own advance slow. They had to make many a twist and turn to avoid marshes and deep water before they came within the sight of the fort, and then d.i.c.k's watch told him that it was nearly noon, the time for the concerted attacks of army and fleet. But it was certain now that the army could not get up until several hours later, and he wondered what would happen.
They saw the fort very clearly from their position on a low hill, and they saw that the main Confederate force was gathered on a height outside, connected with the fort, and as well as he could judge, the ma.s.s seemed to number three or four thousand men.
”What does that mean?” he asked Colonel Winchester.
”I surmise,” replied the colonel, ”that Tilghman, the Confederate commander, is afraid his men may be caught in a trap. We know his troops are merely raw militia, and he has put them where they can retreat in case of defeat. He, himself, with his trained cannoneers, is inside the fort.”
”There can be no attack until tomorrow,” said Colonel Newcomb. ”It will be impossible for General Grant's army to get here in time.”
”You are certainly right about the army, but I'm not so sure that you're right about the attack. Look what's coming up the river.”
”The fleet!” exclaimed Newcomb in excitement. ”As sure as I'm here it's the fleet, advancing to make the attack alone. Foote is a daring and energetic man, and the failure of the army to co-operate will not keep him back.”
”Daring and energy, seventy per cent, at least,” d.i.c.k heard Warner murmur, but he paid no more attention to his comrades because all his interest was absorbed in the thrilling spectacle that was about to be unfolded before them.
The fleet, the armor clads, the floating batteries, and the mortar boats, were coming straight toward the fort. Colonel Winchester lent d.i.c.k his gla.s.ses for a moment, and the boy plainly saw the great, yawning mouths of the mortars. Then he pa.s.sed the gla.s.ses back to the colonel, but he was able to see well what followed with the naked eye. The fleet came on, steady, but yet silent.
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