A Victorious Union Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  THE REVELATIONS OF THE REVELLERS

  "'We won't go home till morning,'" sang the two counterfeit revellers,as they approached the fire of the bivouackers.

  The four carousel's sprang to their feet when the first strain reachedtheir ears. They were not as intoxicated as they might have been, forthey were able to stand with considerable firmness on their feet, afterthe frequency with which the bottle had been passed among them. They didnot do what soldiers would naturally have done at such an interruption,grasp their muskets, and it was probable they had no muskets to grasp.

  "'We won't go home till morning, till daylight doth appear,'" continuedthe two officers, without halting in their march towards the revellers.

  "The two counterfeit revellers." Page 48.]

  No weapons of any kind were exhibited; but the tipplers stood as thoughtransfixed with astonishment or alarm where they had risen, but wererather limp in their attitude. They evidently did not know what to makeof the interruption, and they appeared to be waiting for furtherdevelopments on the part of the intruders.

  "It isn't mornin' yit, but we just emptied our bottle," said Christy,with a swaggering and slightly reeling movement, and suiting his speechto the occasion. "How are ye, shipmates?"

  "Up to G, jolly tars," replied one of the men, with a broad grin on hisface. "We done got two full bottles left, at your sarvice."

  "Much obleeged," returned the lieutenant, as he took the bottle thereveller passed to him. "Here's success to us all in a heap, and successto our side in the battle that's go'n' on."

  "I'm with you up to the armpits," added Graines, as another of the fourhanded him a bottle.

  One sniff at the neck of the bottle was enough to satisfy Christy, whowas a practical temperance man of the very strictest kind, and he hadnever drank a glass of anything intoxicating in all his life. The bottlecontained "apple-jack," or apple-brandy, the vilest fluid that everpassed a tippler's gullet. He felt obliged to keep up his character,taken for the occasion, and he retained the mouth of the bottle at hislips long enough to answer the requirement of the moment; but he did notopen them, or permit a drop of the nauseous and fiery liquor to pollutehis tongue. It was necessary for him to consider that he was strugglingfor the salvation of his beloved country to enable him even to gothrough the form of "taking a drink."

  Graines was less scrupulous on the question of temperance, and he took aswallow of the apple-jack; but that was enough for him, for he had nevertasted anything outside of the medicine-chest which was half as noxious.If he had been compelled to keep up the drinking, he would have realizedthat his punishment was more than he could bear. Fortunately thetipplers had no tumblers, so that the guests were not compelled to pourout the fluid and drink it off. All drank directly from the bottles,so that the two officers could easily conceal in the semi-darkness theextent of their indulgence.

  "Who be you, strangers?" asked the man who had acted thus far asspokesman of the party.

  "My name is Tom Bulger, born and brought up in the island of GreatAbaco, and this feller is my friend and shipmate, Sam Riley," repliedChristy, twisting and torturing his speech as much as was necessary."Now who be you fellers?"

  "Born and fetched up in Mobile: my name is Bird Riley; and I reckont'other feller is a first cousin of mine, for he's got the same name,and he's almost as handsome as I am. Where was you born, Sam?"

  "About ten miles up the Alabama, where my father was the overseer on aplantation before the war," replied Graines as promptly as though he hadbeen telling the truth.

  "Then you must be one of my cousins, for I done got about two hundredand fifty on 'em in the State of Alabammy. Give us your fin, Sam."

  Bird Riley and Sam shook hands in due and proper form, and therelationship appeared to be fully established. The names of the threeother revellers were given, but the spokesman was disposed to do all thetalking, though he occasionally appealed to his companions to approveof what he said. It was evident that he was the leading spirit of theparty, and that he controlled them. He was rather a bright fellow, whilethe others were somewhat heavy and stupid in their understanding. Thebottles were again handed to the guests, both of whom went through theform of drinking without taking a drop of the vile stuff.

  "What be you uns doin' here?" asked Bird Riley, after the ceremony withthe bottle had been finished.

  "We was both tooken in a schooner that was gwine to run the blockade,"answered Christy. "We was comin' out'n Pass Christian, and was pickedup off Chand'leer [Chandeleur] Island, and fotched over hyer. We didn'tfeel too much to hum after we lost our wages, and we done took awhaleboat and came ashore here, with only one bottle of whiskey atweenus. That's all there is on't. Now, how comes you uns hyer?"

  "I'm the mate of the topsail schooner West Wind, and t'others is thecrew; all but two we done left on board with the cap'n," replied Bird,apparently with abundant confidence in his newly found friends.

  "You left her?" asked Christy.

  "That's just what we done do."

  "Where is the West Wind now?" inquired Christy, deeply interested in thesubject at this point.

  "She done come down from Mobile three days ago, and done waited for achance to run the blockade. Her hole is full o' cotton, and she done gota deck-load too," answered Bird Riley without any hesitation.

  "Where does the West Wind keep herself now, Bird?"

  "Just inside the p'int, astern of the Trafladagar."

  "The Trafladagar?" repeated Christy.

  "That's her name, or sunthin like it. I never see it writ out."

  "She's a schooner, I reckon," continued Christy, concealing whatknowledge he possessed in regard to the vessel.

  "She ain't no schooner, you bet; she's jest the finist steamer that everrunned inter Mobile, and they've turned her into a cruiser," Bird Rileyexplained.

  "How big is she?"

  "I heerd some un say she was about eight hun'ed tons: an' I'll betshe'll pick up every Yankee craft that she gits a sight on."

  "And you say the Trafladagar is at anchor off the p'int?" added Christy,not daring to call the steamer by her true name.

  "That's jest where she is; and the West Wind is hitched to her, like atandem team," replied Bird Riley. "Look yere, Tom Bulger, you don't makelove to that bottle as though you meant business. Take another drink,and show you done got some manhood in yer."

  The bottle went the rounds again, and the guests apparently took longpulls; but really they did not taste a drop of the infernal liquid.

  "That's good pizen, Bird Riley; but it is not jest the stingo that Ilike best," said Christy, as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve inproper form, for he did not like the smell of the fluid lightning thatclung to his lips.

  "Whiskey suits me most; but they waste the corn makin' bread on't, andthere ain't much on't left to make the staff of life. Howsomever, wedon't choke to death on apple-jack, when we can get enough on't," arguedBird Riley.

  "Jest now you got a tandem team hitched up out on the Trafladagar andthe West Wind," continued Christy cautiously, and with apparentindifference, drawing the mate of the schooner back to the matter inwhich he was the most deeply interested. "What's this team hitched upthat way for? Is the steamer go'n' to tow the schooner up to Mobile?"

  "I reckon you're a little more'n half drunk, Tom Bulger," replied BirdRiley, with a vigorous horse laugh. "Tow the schooner up to Mobile!Didn't I tell yer the Trafladagar's been waiting here three days for agood chance to run out?"

  "You said that as true as you was born," added Graines, who thought itnecessary to say something, for he had been nearly silent from thebeginning.

  "Sam Riley ain't quite so drunk as you be, Tom Bulger; an' he knowswhat's what; and thar he shows the Riley blood in his carcass," chuckledthe mate.

  "And you said the West Wind was loaded with cotton, in the hole and ondeck," added Graines, hoping to hurry the conference along a little morerapidly.

  "That's jest what I said. I reckon you ain't much used t
o apple-jack,fur it fusticates your intelleck, and makes yer forget how old y'are.Come, take another, jest to set your head up right," said Bird, passingthe bottle to Christy, who was doing his best to keep up the illusion bytalking very thick, and swaying his body about like a drunken man.

  Both the guests went through the ceremony of imbibing, which was only aceremony to them. The fire had exhausted its supply of fuel, and it wasfortunate that the darkness prevented the revellers from measuring thequantity left in the bottles as they were returned to the owners, orthey might have seen that the strangers were not doing their share inconsuming the poison.

  "Sam Riley does honor to the blood as runs in his body, for he ain't nomore drunk'n I am; an' he knows what we been talkin' about," said themate, who seemed to be greatly amused at the supposed effect of theliquor upon Christy. "You won't know nothin' about the Trafladagar orthe West Wind in half an hour from now, Tom Bulger. I reckon it don'tmake no difference to you about the tandem team, and to-morrer mornin'you won't know how the team's hitched up."

  "I don't think I will," replied Christy boozily, as he rolled overon the sand, and then struggled for some time to resume his uprightposition, to the great amusement of Bird Riley and his companions. "ButSam Riley's got blood in him, the best blood in Alabammy, and he kintell you all about it if yer want ter know. He kin stan' up agin a wholebottle o' apple-jack."

  "I say, Cousin Bird, what's this tandem team hitched up fer?" askedGraines, permitting his superior officer to carry out the illusion uponwhich he had entered, in order more effectually to blind the mate, andinduce him to talk with entire freedom.

  "I reckon you ain't too drunk to un'erstan' what I say, Sam, as t'otherfeller is."

  "I'm jest drunk enough to un'erstan' yer, Cousin Bird; but I cal'late Iwon't know much about it by to-morrer mornin'," added Graines.

  "Let's take another round, Sam; but I reckon Tom Bulger's got more'n hecan kerry now," continued the mate.

  Bird took a long draught from the bottle, and then passed it to hisguest. Three of the four revellers had already toppled over at fulllength on the ground; and Christy thought he could hurry matters bydoing the same thing, and he tumbled over all in a heap. Graines dranknothing himself, though he contrived to spill a quantity of the fluid onthe ground, so that it might not seem too light to his only remainingwakeful companion. The last dram of Bird had been a very heavy one, andthe engineer realized that he could not hold out much longer.

  "What's that tandem team fer?" asked Graines, in the thickest of tones,while he swayed back and forth as Bird was doing by this time.

  "The Trafladagar's gwine to tow the West Wind out; and both on 'em'ssure to be tooken," stammered the mate. "We uns don't bleeve in't, andso we runned away, and left Captain Sullendine to paddle his own punt.They get off at three in the morn in'."

  Bird Riley took another drink, and then he toppled over.