A Lieutenant at Eighteen Read online

  CHAPTER XXV

  A BOAT VOYAGE DOWN THE GREAT RIVER

  The tender in which Deck Lyon and his companion had embarked was akeel-boat such as is usually suspended by two ropes from either end tothe upper extremity of a pole, like an ensign staff. It was abouttwelve feet long, and was not likely to upset, even in the turbulentwater at the middle of the river which drained the Cumberland Mountainsin the south-eastern part of the State.

  Very heavy rains had been falling for several days, overflowing brooksand creeks so as to make many of them impassable; and the great riverwas swollen, though not to an unusual height in the rainy season. Deckmade no effort at first to direct the craft, for he was well-nighexhausted by the fatigues of the day and his efforts to escape from thefortification.

  He kept his seat in the stern-sheets, as Fronklyn did in the forwardpart of the boat, which was still abreast of the camp, but well underthe high bank of the stream. The enterprise was a success so far, andthey were so well pleased to escape from the immediate vicinity of theenemy that they were not disposed to do anything but rest themselves.But in a few minutes they had recovered their breath, and ceased topant from their exertions.

  Left to its own guidance, or that of the current, it had whirled abouttwo or three times; but Deck was too tired to be disturbed by thismovement. Their uniforms were wet through; for it had rained all theafternoon and evening, and the tender had considerable water in herbottom. Under any other circumstances they would have been veryuncomfortable; but their satisfaction at the escape from a prison orprison-camp in the near future was the uppermost thought in theirminds, and for a time it banished the annoyance of wet and cold.

  "If we whirl round like this it will make us dizzy," said the sergeantas a mild joke. "What makes the boat do so?"

  "The tender is so happy to get out of Confederate hands that it wantsto dance, and it is indulging in a waltz," replied Deck as anotherpleasantry.

  "I wish it wouldn't do so, for I don't like the motion. I suppose youdon't intend to continue this voyage down to New Orleans; for thatwould not be a more agreeable locality than the Beech Groveintrenchments," added Fronklyn.

  "I don't believe we shall care to go as far as that."

  "How far down do you mean to go, Lieutenant?"

  "That depends; if we can get the craft under control, I don't think weneed go much farther," said Deck, as he began to feel about in thebottom of the boat.

  "What are you fishing for, Lieutenant?" asked his companion.

  "I think you had better not use that word any more at present."

  "What word?"

  "Lieutenant; for I don't care to have my rank published any more onthis cruise, for some one on the shore might hear it. Call me Deck; andas you are not a sergeant here any more than I am a lieutenant, I willnot call you so; but I forget your first name, as I have never usedit."

  "They all call me Ben among my friends."

  "Very well; Ben it is."

  "I am satisfied, Deck, though it seems a little off now to call you byyour given name, cut short, though we used to do so before you werepromoted. But what are you feeling for?" asked Ben, as his companioncontinued to poke about him.

  "I was trying to find the oars which belong in this boat," repliedDeck. "See if you can find them near the bow."

  Both of them made diligent search in every part of the boat; but nooars could be found, and it was evident that they were kept on board ofthe steamer.

  "No oars; that makes it bad for us," added Deck.

  "I can make a paddle out of my board," suggested Ben.

  "Do so if you can," replied Deck as he picked up his own staff.

  By this time, after sitting still for a while, both of them werechilled by the wet and the night air, and they needed exercise of somekind to warm them. Ben had a large and sharp knife in his pocket, andhe began to whittle the board like a typical Yankee. Deck put his staffinto the scull-hole, and made an effort to steer the tender, and thusprevent her from whirling. As a rudder it was a failure; but as an oar,heaving around the stern, he succeeded with much exertion in making atolerably straight course.

  "That village must be Robertsport," said Deck, who had carefullystudied all the localities in this region on his map. "There is a bigbend of the river here, and we might as well go ashore there as fartherdown."

  "What has the bend to do with our going ashore there, Deck?"

  "The water in the river has a tendency to flow straight ahead, Ben; Ilearned that at Big Bend, on the Green River, near Riverlawn."

  "I know the place very well," added Ben.

  "When we come to the bend below the village, the current will be likelyto shoot us over near the opposite shore."

  "But that will take us to the wrong side of the river, and we shallhave to get across it afterwards; and, besides, the enemy will be onthat side."

  "I don't figure it out in just that way, Ben; for the current will takeus to the north side of the stream. The river turns to the left, orsouth; but the water wants to go straight ahead, and that will cast uson the side where we are now: don't you see?"

  "Well, I don't see. I am no boatman, and I won't raise any objection,"replied Ben. "Here is your paddle. I had to cut it out in the dark, andwork by faith, and not by sight, so that it is not handsome."

  "It does first rate, Ben; but we shall have to do some hard work inholding the tender to the shore when the current throws it on the bank;and probably it is just as high as it is at the fort."

  "I will do my share of the work if you will tell me how, Deck."

  In a few minutes more the boat began to feel the current as it came tothe bend, and they could hear the roar of the water as it was dashedagainst the shore. With the paddle Ben had made, Deck contrived to keepthe tender from whirling about, though he had to work very hard to doso. With the bow pointed to the shore, which he could now make out inthe gloom of the night, she was going ahead very rapidly, having nowthe full force of the stream.

  "What am I to do, Deck?" demanded Ben, who did not feel at all at homewhile the craft was in the midst of her gyrations.

  "The boat is going head on against the shore; but I don't know whatsort of a landing-place it will prove to be. But whatever it is, takethe painter in your hand"--

  "Who?" cried Ben.

  "The painter. The rope made fast at your end of the tender," repliedthe skipper of the craft impatiently; for the sergeant was entirelyignorant of nautical terms. "Take the end of the rope in your hand, andjump ashore as soon as it touches the land."

  "All right; I understand you now," responded Ben, as he seized thepainter, and stood up in the fore-sheets as well as the rolling of theboat in the current would permit.

  "Now for it!" shouted Deck, as he felt the bottom of the boat strike onits keel.

  Ben said nothing, but sprang over the bow of the boat, upon what seemedto be a flat shore, with the rope in his hand.

  "Hold on with all your might, or I shall go down stream!" called Deck,as he vigorously plied his paddle in an effort to heave around thestern of the boat so that the current might strike it on the broadside.

  The action of the stream helped him, and, assisted by the strength ofBen at the painter, the tender was thrown high and dry on the gentleslope where it had struck. The landing had proved to be a much lessdifficult task than Deck had anticipated, perhaps because he hadskilfully handled the craft so that the current did most of the work.

  The leader of the enterprise jumped from the stern-sheets upon theground, which was a part of the tongue of land formed by the greatbend, and extending to the south. Then Deck had a chance to look aroundhim, though it was too dark to make out the situation.

  "Where are we now, Deck?" asked Ben.

  "I never was here before; but I guess we are not more than six milesbelow the intrenchments of the enemy on the Cumberland, and they haveanother breastwork on the south side of the river," replied Deck, as hecontinued to look about him.

  "Where is Robertsport, of which you spoke
a while ago?"

  "That's on the opposite side of the river, not more than a quarter of amile higher up. I suppose you are satisfied now that you are on thenorth side of the stream, and not on the south, as you anticipated,Ben," said Deck.

  "Yes; I reasoned that matter out, and found you were right. I supposeyou are about used up by this time. I wonder what o'clock it is."

  "I have a watch if you have a match."

  The sergeant took a tin box from his pocket, and lighted a match fromit, and held it under his cap. Deck produced his watch, and found thatit was twenty-five minutes past one.

  "Later than I supposed," he added.

  "We have been on our feet nearly twenty-four hours, and I think youmust be about played out," said the sergeant with a gape. "I am tiredout; and you are still young, too young to go without your regularsleep."

  "But I shall survey this locality before I do anything else."

  "I am with you."

  "I did not expect to find anything like a flat surface here," continuedthe lieutenant, as he started to walk towards a high bluff in thedirection from which they had come.

  It was only a couple of rods from the water, and the flat space wherethey had come ashore was evidently made by the caving of the earthalong the bluff, when the river had been even higher than at present.It was a hill which had possibly turned the river aside from itswesterly course to the south at some remote period in the past. Therewas just such a bluff on the other side of the tongue of land, andpossibly a hill there had again changed the river's course to thewestward. But Deck's theory explained the presence of the fortunateflat where they had landed.

  "Now we must find a way to get up on the hill above the high bluff,"said he, as he led the way up the river.

  Beyond the bluff the bank of the river was the same as it had been allthe way from the fort, and the flat came to a sudden ending.

  "Here is a flatboat," said Ben, who was the first to discover it."Somebody must live near here."

  "This looks like a path up the bank," added Deck, who had been studyingthe river above. "I think this must be a ferry, Ben; though I shouldsuppose the ferryman would find it hard work to get through the currentthat brought us down."

  It was plain that some work had been done on the path leading up thebank, which was diagonal with the steep slope. It had been dug out, andin the steepest parts there was something built for a fence or ahand-rail. On the opposite side of the river from Robertsport there wasa road to the one extending from Harrison to Somerset. Doubtless theferry, if there was one, was for the use of travellers into WayneCounty, all of which lay on the south side of the river.

  The fugitives were ready to mount the bluff by the path; but first theywent back to the boat, which might be of use to them later if they hadoccasion to renew the voyage down the stream. They drew it back, andconcealed it behind a huge rock which the current had laid bare. Thenthey mounted the path to the top of the bluff. Not ten rods from theshore they found a cabin, around which were some fruit-trees and thedried stalks of corn, showing that the land had been cultivated.

  "This is some negro's house," said Ben, as they halted under a tree nottwo rods from the cabin, which was nothing more than a shanty.

  "It looks like one. Very likely the ferryman lives here," replied Deck."But there is some kind of a row going on in that cabin."

  "It seems to be lighted up as though something was happening there atthis time of night. We will go up nearer and look into the matter,"returned Ben, as he walked towards the cabin, and stationed himself atthe only window on that side of the building.

  They listened for some time, and heard the voices of four differentwhite men, as they judged from their dialect.

  "I done tole you I can't cross de riber to-night. We should all bedrownded, shore," replied an unmistakable negro.