Frank Before Vicksburg. The Gun-Boat Series

"Yes, colonel," shouted one of the men, "I'll be dog-gone if I didn't think he was the chap that give us the slip at Shreveport."

"I didn't think I could be mistaken," said the colonel. "So, youngster, just consider yourself a prisoner."

"What do you mean, sir? You have no claim whatever upon me, and never had!" exclaimed Frank, indignantly. "I am acting in obedience to orders, and am under the protection of this flag of truce."

"Very well spoken. But what do you suppose we care for that dish-rag? Besides, I say we have a good claim upon you, for you have never been exchanged. Here, Jim!" he shouted to one of his men, "put this little Yank with the rest, and don't give him a chance to get away this time."

The man advanced to obey the order, and when he came up to the place where Frank was standing, he seized him by the hair and shook him until every tooth in his head rattled.

"Avast heavin' there, you land-lubber!" shouted the mate, who until this time had remained in the boat with the crew; and, springing ashore, he ran up the bank, and with one blow of his fist felled the rebel to the ground.

"Here we have it," said the colonel, who, instead of defending Frank, seemed to consider the manner in which he was treated a good joke. "Boys, secure this blue-jacket also."

"No you don't, Johnny!" exclaimed the mate, as one of the men sprang forward to seize him. "If you think that one of you is as good as five Yankee sailors, now is your chance to try it on. It'll take more'n one of you to put the bracelets on me;" and, as he spoke, he planted another of his tremendous blows in the face of the advancing rebel, which lifted him completely off his feet. But before he had time to repeat it, he was overpowered by half a dozen rebels, who had run to the assistance of their comrade. After a hard struggle, he was secured, and his hands were bound behind his back.

"Now, you fellows," said the colonel, addressing himself to the men in the boat, "get back to your vessel; tell the captain how matters stand, and also that he may come ashore and bury his dead as soon as he chooses."

"Tell the first division," said the mate, "that the next time they go into action they must give one shot for Jack Waters. If you fellers don't pay for this," he continued, turning to the rebels, "then blast my to'-gallant top-lights."

"Tell the captain," chimed in Frank, "that he had better not trust these men again, for they are not sufficiently civilized to know what a flag of truce is."

"You are very complimentary, young man, to say the least," said a rebel, who was standing near the colonel.

"I am telling the plain truth," answered Frank, "and you will find that your barbarous mode of warfare will never succeed; and that the crew of that vessel will never allow the mean action of which you have been guilty to pass unnoticed."

"Douse my top-lights but that's the truth," said the mate, making an effort with his confined hands to salute his officer.

"See that these prisoners are well secured," said the colonel, "and be sure and take special care of that youngster, for if you allow him the least chance, he'll escape," and the colonel turned on his heel and walked away.

In obedience to these instructions, Frank and the mate were delivered into the charge of a sergeant, who at once conducted them toward the place where the prisoners which had been taken during the fight were confined under guard. As they passed along through the rebels, they were insulted at every step, and finally a man drew his ramrod out of his gun, and seizing Frank by the collar, proceeded to give him a severe thrashing. Frank immediately appealed to the sergeant, who, instead of offering to defend him, stood at a little distance, watching the operation, as if not at all concerned. The mate was fairly beside himself with rage, and struggled desperately to free his hands, all the while venting his anger by "dousing" his "top-lights" and "shivering" his own "timbers." The rebel continued his punishment amid the cheers of his companions, and at every stroke of his ramrod he exclaimed: "Shot the best blood-hound in Louisiana, did ye! Stick a bayonet into young Davis, won't ye!" until Frank, smarting with the pain, determined to defend himself.

"Unhand me, you scoundrel!" he shouted; "I've had just about enough of this." Turning fiercely upon his persecutor, he snatched the ramrod from his hand, and commenced laying it over his head and shoulders. The rebel, after trying in vain to defend himself, retreated precipitately, amid the jeers of his comrades, and shouts of derision from the mate. The sergeant here thought it time to interfere, and Frank and the mate were not again molested.

CHAPTER VI

An Old Acquaintance

They found that the rebels had captured nearly twenty of their men, several of them badly wounded, and, as there was no surgeon with the enemy, the poor fellows were suffering intensely. Frank shuddered when he thought of the inhuman treatment to which his wounded companions had been subjected by the very men in whose power they now were, on the march from Vicksburg to Shreveport; and he knew, from the scenes through which he had just passed, that the Wild-cats had not grown more lenient in their treatment of those who were so unfortunate as to fall into their power. As soon as they were placed under guard, Jack's hands were unbound, and he seated himself on the ground beside his officer, in no very amiable mood.

hey found that the rebels had captured nearly twenty of their men, several of them badly wounded, and, as there was no surgeon with the enemy, the poor fellows were suffering intensely. Frank shuddered when he thought of the inhuman treatment to which his wounded companions had been subjected by the very men in whose power they now were, on the march from Vicksburg to Shreveport; and he knew, from the scenes through which he had just passed, that the Wild-cats had not grown more lenient in their treatment of those who were so unfortunate as to fall into their power. As soon as they were placed under guard, Jack's hands were unbound, and he seated himself on the ground beside his officer, in no very amiable mood.

"It isn't for myself that I care, sir," said he; "but I am afraid that the treatment you will receive will be a heap worse nor keel-haulin' on a cold winter's mornin'."

"Don't talk so loud, Jack," whispered Frank, glancing toward the guard, who was walking his beat but a short distance from them. "I've been in just such scrapes as this before, and I'm not going to be strung up. If they give me the least chance for life, I'm going to take advantage of it."

"There comes a boat from the ship, sir," said the mate. "If we could only give them the slip now."

"No, sit still; we are watched too closely; wait until to-night."

In a short time the cutter reached the shore, and an officer, whom they recognized as the gunner, sprang out with a flag of truce in his hand. He walked straight up to Colonel Harrison. After a short conversation with that individual, he handed him a letter, and, accompanied by a rebel officer, approached the place where Frank was sitting.

"Well, old fellow," he said, as he came up, "I'm sorry to see you in this fix. But I've got good news for you. The colonel has given me permission to inform you that you will be well treated as long as you remain a prisoner. You see, we happen to have a prisoner who belongs to this regiment on board the flag-ship, and the captain is going to ask the admiral to exchange him for you. So keep a stiff upper lip. Don't think of trying to escape, and we shall see you on board of the ship again in less than a week. Good-by."

Frank and the mate shook hands with the gunner, who walked back to the place where he had left his men, and set them to work collecting and burying the dead.

After considerable trouble, an agreement was entered into between Captain Wilson and the colonel, and all the prisoners, with the exception of Frank and the mate, were paroled and allowed to return on board the vessel, after which the Wild-cats mounted their horses and commenced marching back into the country. While the fight had been raging, their horses were safely hidden in the woods, out of range of the Ticonderoga's guns; and when they were brought out, Frank, although he had not seen either a dead or wounded rebel, was able to judge pretty accurately of the number that had been disabled in the struggle, by counting the empty saddles. What had been done with the dead and wounded he could not ascertain; but the probability was, that the latter had been carried on in advance of the main body of the regiment, and the former hastily buried on the field. The prisoners were each given a horse, and Frank was a good deal surprised to find that although the mate was closely watched, scarcely any attention was paid to himself; his captors, no doubt, thinking that he would prefer waiting to be exchanged, rather than run the risk of the punishment that had been threatened in case he was detected in any attempt at escape. He was given to understand that it was useless to think of flight, for he would certainly be recaptured, even if he succeeded in getting outside of the pickets, and that he would be shot down without mercy. But Frank, who well knew that the rebels would not willingly lose an opportunity of regaining one of their officers, was not at all intimidated by these threats; and, as he had not bound himself to remain a passive prisoner, he commenced laying his plans for escape, intending to put them into operation at the very first opportunity which offered.

Just before dark the column halted in front of a plantation, and commenced making its camp on each side of the road. While the men were making their preparations for the night, the colonel, who evidently preferred more comfortable quarters than could be found in the open air, repaired to the house, where he was cordially greeted by its inmates.

Frank and the mate lay down on the ground by the side of the road, and were talking over the incidents of the day, when a dashing young lieutenant stepped up, and inquired:

"Yanks, don't you want something to eat? Come into our mess; we want to talk to you. I'll hold myself responsible for their safe return," he continued, turning to the guard.

This individual, after a few moments' consideration, concluded that the "Yanks could pass," and the prisoners followed the lieutenant to the place where the members of the mess to which he belonged were seated on the ground, eating their suppers.

"Sit down, Yanks, at the very first good place you can find," said their host. "Our chairs have been sent on board one of your gun-boats to be repaired, and the sofa hasn't come in yet. Do you ever have as good a supper as this on board your men-o'-war?"

"O yes," replied Frank, glancing at the different dishes that were scattered about over the ground, which contained corn-bread just raked out from the ashes, salt pork, onions, and boiled chicken, the latter evidently the fruits of a raid on some well-stocked hen-roost. "O yes, we live very well on board our boats. There is nothing to hinder us, if we have a caterer worth a cent."

"Where do you get your grub?" asked the lieutenant. "We steal every thing along the shore that we can lay our hands on, just to keep it away from you, and there are no provisions at the North."

"Well, you need not believe any such story as that," answered Frank, who could not help laughing outright at the idea of the people at the North having no provisions to spare. "I never knew a gun-boat to be short of rations, except down the Yazoo Pass."

"Well, then, some of our folks tell what is not the truth," said one of the officers, who had not yet spoken. "But, to change the subject, how many men did you lose in the action to-day?"

"I am not able to tell," replied Frank. "I see that you have taken good care to hide your loss. I haven't seen a single wounded man since I have been with you, and I know I saw several drop during the fight."

"Yes, we did lose a few men," said the lieutenant; "how many, you will never know. But, to change the subject again, what did you come down here to fight us for?"

"Now, see here," said Frank, setting down his plate, which had been plentifully supplied by the lieutenant, "you were kind enough to ask me here to get some supper, and I don't want to spoil a good meal by entering into a political discussion; for, if I answer your question, I shall tell you some pretty plain things, and I know you will get provoked at me."

"O no, we are not as unreasonable as that," replied the man. "Answer my question."

"Well, then," said Frank, "I will make the same reply as I once did to that question in the prison at Shreveport. It is this: I believe that if ever there was a lot of men in the world who need a good, sound thrashing, you rebels do."

"That's the truth, sir," said Jack, talking as plainly as a mouthful of salt pork would permit. "Stand up for the old flag, sir."

The discussion thus commenced was maintained for an hour, the rebels evincing the utmost ignorance in regard to the principles for which they were fighting; and the manner in which Frank knocked their flimsy arguments right and left, and the fearlessness with which he upheld the course the government has pursued, and predicted the speedy overthrow of the rebellion, excited their respect and admiration.

At length bedtime came, and, just as Frank and the mate were about to be conducted back to the guard, Colonel Harrison, accompanied by two ladies and a strange officer, walked up.

"Here, Yank," he exclaimed, addressing Frank, "here's an old acquaintance of yours. Come here."

As Frank obeyed the order, the strange officer advanced to meet him, and he recognized Lieutenant Somers. He was not at all pleased to see him, for the lieutenant, doubtless, had not forgotten the circumstances connected with his capture, and although he could not remember of ever having treated him badly, still he feared he might harbor some feelings of malice, and might see fit to take a summary revenge upon him. To his surprise, however, the rebel eagerly advanced to meet him, and, extending his hand, greeted him with:

"How are you, Nelson? You're in a fix, I see. I am the free man now, and you the prisoner."

"Yes," answered Frank, "I'm in for it again. Although I was captured in violation of all the rules of war, I suppose I must submit to it for awhile."