Si Klegg

[Ill.u.s.tration: "DON'T STAB ME." 123]

"Look-a-here, pard," said Si, "don't stab me with that thing! I jest can't git along any furder till I blow a little. You please lemme be, an' I'll do as much for you. P'rhaps some time you'll get played out and I'll be on the rear-guard. The Cap'n 'll tell me ter fotch ye 'long, an'

I'll jest let ye rest, so I will!"

This view of the case struck the guard with some force. Moved with compa.s.sion, he turned away, leaving Si to enjoy his rest.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HYDROPATHIC TREATMENT 125]

Si threw aside his traps, took off his shoes and stockings, and bathed his feet with water from his canteen. He ate a couple of hardtack, and in the course of half an hour began to feel more like Si Klegg. He geared himself up, shouldered his gun, and started to "ketch up."

All this time the stream of troops--regiments, brigades and divisions--had flowed on. Of course, soldiers who were with their colors had the right of way, and the stragglers were obliged to stumble along as best they could, over the logs and through the bushes at the sides of the roads or skirt along the edges of the fields and woods adjoining. It was this fact added to their exhausted and crippled condition, that made it almost impossible for stragglers to overtake their regiments until they halted for the night. Even then it was often midnight before the last of the wayfarers, weary and worn, dragged their aching limbs into camp.

Si started forward briskly, but soon found it was no easy matter to gain the mile or so that the 200th Ind. was now ahead of him. It was about all he could do to keep up with the fast-moving column and avoid failing still further to the rear. Presently the bugles sounded a halt for one of the hourly rests.

"Now," said Si to himself, "I'll have a good chance to git along tor'd the front. The soljers 'll all lie down in the fence corners an' leave the road clear. I'll jest git up an' dust!"

The sound of the bugles had scarcely died away when the pike was deserted, and on either side, as far as the eye could reach, the prostrate men that covered the ground mingled in a long fringe of blue.

Si got up into the road and started along the lane between these lines of rec.u.mbent soldiers. His gait was a little shaky, for the blisters on his feet began to give evidence of renewed activity. He

Pretty soon he struck a veteran regiment from Illinois, the members of which were sitting and lying around in all the picturesque and indescribable postures which the old soldiers found gave them the greatest comfort during a "rest." Then they commenced--that is, it was great sport for the Sucker boys, though Si did not readily appreciate the humorous features of the scene.

"What rigiment is this?" asked Si, timidly.

"Same old rijiment!" was the answer from half a dozen at once. A single glance told the swarthy veterans that the fresh-looking youth who asked this conundrum belonged to one of the new regiments, and they immediately opened their batteries upon him:

"Left--left-=left!"

"Hayfoot--strawfoot! Hayfoot--strawfoot!" keeping time with Si's somewhat irregular steps.

"h.e.l.lo, there, you! Change step and you'll march easier!"

"Look at that 'ere poor feller; the only man left alive of his regiment!

Great Cesar, how they must have suffered! Say, what rijiment did you b'long to?"

"Paymaster's comin', boys, here's a chap with a pay-roll round his neck!" Si had put on that morning the last of the paper collars he had brought from home.

"You'd better shed that knapsack, or it'll be the death of ye!"

"I say, there, how's all the folks to home?"

"How d'ye like it as far as you've got, any way?"

"Git some commissary and pour into them gunboats!"

"Second relief's come, boys; we can all go home now."

"Grab a root!"

"Hep--hep--hep!"

"How'd ye leave Mary Ann?"

Si had never been under such a fire before. He stood it as long as he could, and 'then he stopped.

"Halt!" shouted a chorus of voices. "Shoulder--Arms!" "Order--Arms!"

By this time Si's wrath was at the boiling point. Casting around him a look of defiance, he exclaimed:

"You cowardly blaggards; I can jest lick any two of ye, an' I'll dare ye to come on. If the 200th Ind. was here we'd clean out the hull pack of ye quicker'n ye can say scat!"

This is where Si made a mistake. He ought to have kept right on and said nothing. But Si had to find out all these things by experience, as the rest of the boys did.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SI DEFIES A REGIMENT 129]

All the members took a hand in the game. They just got right up and yelled, discharging at Si a volley of expletives and pointed remarks that drove him to desperation. Instinctively he brought up his gun.

"Load in nine times--Load!" shouted a dozen of the Illinois tramps.

If Si's gun had been loaded he would have shot somebody, regardless of consequences. Thinking of his bayonet, he jerked it quickly from its scabbard.

"Fix--Bay'net!" yelled the ragged veterans.

And he did, though it was more from the promptings of his own hostile feelings than in obedience to the orders.

"Charge--Bay'net!"

Si had completely lost control of himself in his overpowering rage. With blood in his eye, he came to, a charge, glancing fiercely from one side of the road to the other, uncertain where to begin the a.s.sault.

Instantly there was a loud clicking all along the line. The Illinois soldiers, almost to a man, fixed their bayonets. Half of them sprang to their feet, and all aimed their s.h.i.+ning points at the poor young Hoosier patriot, filling the air with shouts of derision.

It was plain, even to Si in his inflamed state of mind, that the odds against him were too heavy.

"Unfix--Bay'net!" came from half the regiment.

Si concluded he had better get out of a bad sc.r.a.pe the best way he could. So he took off his bayonet and put it back in its place. He shouted words of defiance to his tormentors, but they could not be heard in the din.

"Shoulder--Arms!" "Right--Face!" "Right shoulder s.h.i.+ft--Arms!"

"Forward--March!" These commands came in quick succession from the ranks amidst roars of laughter.

Si obeyed the orders and started off.

"Left--left--left!"

"Hayfoot--strawfoot!"

Forgetting his blisters. Si took the double-quick while the mob swung their caps and howled with delight.

Si didn't "ketch up" with the 200 Ind. until after it had gone into camp. Shorty had a quart of hot coffee waiting for him.