General Nelson's Scout 10

General Nelson's Scout 10

"Bless you, Bessie, I am afraid they would eat you, you are so sweet,"

cried Fred, catching her in his arms and covering her face with kisses.

 

"No danger," tartly responded Kate; "they will never reach here to get

a chance."

 

"Don't be too sure, my pretty cousin; I may yet live to see you flirting

with a Yankee officer."

 

"You will see me dead first," answered Kate, with flashing eye.

 

It was a very pleasant visit that Fred had, and he was sorry when the

four days, the limit of his visit, were up. The papers that he had

brought were all signed, and in addition he took numerous letters and

messages back with him.

 

When leaving, his uncle handed him a pass signed by the Governor of the

State.

 

"There will be no getting through our lines into Kentucky without this,"

said his uncle. "Tennessee is like a rat-trap; it is much easier to get

in than to get out."

 

Fred met with no adventure going back, until he approached the Kentucky

line south of Scottsville. Here he found the road strongly guarded by

soldiers.

 

"Where are you going?" asked the officer in charge.

 

"To my home near Danville, Kentucky," answered Fred.

 

"No, you don't," said the officer; "we have orders to let no one pass."

 

"But I have permission from the Governor," replied Fred, handing out his

pass.

 

The officer looked at it carefully, then looked Fred over, for he was

fully described in the document, and handed it back with, "I reckon

it's all right; you can go." And Fred was about to ride on, when a man

came running up with a fearful oath, and shouting: "That's you, is it,

my fine gentleman? Now you will settle with Bill Pearson for striking

him like a nigger!" and there stood the man he had struck at Gallatin,

with the fiery red mark still showing across his face.

 

As quick as a flash Fred snatched a revolver from the holster. "Up with

your hands," said he coolly but firmly. Pearson was taken by surprise,

and his hands went slowly up. The officer looked from one to the other,

and then asked what it meant.

 

[Illustration: As quick as a flash Fred snatched a Revolver from the

holster.]

 

Bill, in a whining tone, told him how on the day he had enlisted, Fred

had struck him "just like a nigger." Fred, in a few words, told his side

of the story.

 

"And Bailie Peyton said ye were all right, and Bill here called ye a

coward and a liah?" asked the officer.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Well, Bill, I reckon you got what you deserved. Let the gentleman

pass."

 

With a muttered curse, Pearson fell back, and Fred rode on, but had gone

but a few yards when there was the sharp report of a pistol, and a ball

cut through his hat rim. He looked back just in time to see Bill Pearson

felled like an ox by a blow from the butt of a revolver in the hands of

the angry officer.

 

Once in Kentucky Fred breathed freer, but he was stopped several times

and closely questioned, and once or twice the fleetness of his horse

saved him from unpleasant companions. It was with a glad heart that he

found himself once more at home.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER V.

 

FATHER AND SON.

 

 

Fred's journey to Nashville and back had consumed eleven days. It was

now August, a month of intense excitement throughout Kentucky. It was a

month of plot and counterplot. The great question as to whether Kentucky

would be Union or Confederate trembled in the balance. Fred found

conditions changed. Those who had been neutral were becoming outspoken

for one side or the other. Thus it was with Mr. Shackelford. He was fast

becoming a partisan of the South. Letters which Fred brought him from

his brother in Nashville confirmed him in his opinion. In these letters

his brother begged him not to disgrace the name of Shackelford by siding

with the Lincolnites.

 

He heard from Fred a full account of his journey, commended him for his

bravery, and said that he did what every true Kentuckian should do,

resent an insult; but he should not have sent him had he known he would

have been exposed to such grave dangers.

 

"Now, Fred," he continued; "you and your horse need rest. Do not leave

home for a few days."

 

To this Fred readily assented. His cousin Calhoun came to see him, and

when he told him how he had served the fellow in Gallatin who called him

a liar, Calhoun's enthusiasm knew no bounds. He jumped up and down and

yelled, and clapped Fred on the back, and called him a true Kentuckian,

even if he didn't favor the South.

 

"It seems to me, Fred, you are having all the fun, while I am staying

here humdrumming around home. I can't stand it much longer."

 

"It isn't all fun, Cal. I might have been killed. Look at that hole

through my hat."

 

"That's what I envy, Fred; I must be a soldier. I long to hear the

singing of bullets, the wild cheering of men, to be in the headlong

charge," and the boy's face glowed with enthusiasm.

 

"I reckon, Cal, you will get there, if this racket keeps up much

longer," answered Fred.

 

"Speed the day," shouted Cal, as he jumped on his horse and rode away,

waving back a farewell.

 

During these days, Fred noticed that quite a number of gentlemen, all

prominent Southern sympathizers, called on his father. It seemed to him

that his father was drifting away, and that a great gulf was growing

between them; and he resolved to open his whole heart and tell his

father just how he felt. The opportunity came sooner than he expected.

 

One evening his uncle, Judge Pennington, came out from Danville,

accompanied by no less distinguished gentlemen than John C.

Breckinridge, Humphrey Marshall, John A. Morgan and Major Hockoday.

Breckinridge was the idol of Kentucky, a knightly man in every respect.

 

They had come to discuss the situation with Mr. Shackelford. Ten

thousand rifles had been shipped to Cincinnati, to be forwarded to Camp

Dick Robinson, for the purpose of arming the troops there; and the

question was should they allow these arms to be sent. The consultation

was held in the room directly below the one Fred occupied, and through a

friendly ventilator he heard the whole conversation.

 

Morgan and Major Hockoday were for calling out the State Guards,

capturing Camp Dick Robinson, then march on Frankfort, drive out the

Legislature, and declare the State out of the Union.

 

This was vigorously opposed by Breckinridge. "You must remember," said

he, "that State sovereignty is the underlying principle of the Southern

Confederacy. If the States are not sovereign, the South had no right to

secede, and every man in arms against the Federal government is a

traitor. Kentucky, by more than a two-thirds vote, declined to go out of

the Union. But she has declared for neutrality; let us see that

neutrality is enforced."

 

"Breckinridge," said Morgan, "your logic is good, but your position is

weak. What about those arms?"

 

"Their shipment in the State would be a violation of our neutrality; the

whole power of the State should be used to prevent it," answered

Breckinridge.

 

"Oh! that General Buckner were here!" exclaimed Major Hockoday. "Now

that he is gone, the State Guard is virtually without a head."

 

"Where is General Buckner?" asked Mr. Shackelford.

 

"Hobnobbing with President Lincoln in Washington, or with President

Davis in Richmond, I don't know which," answered Marshall, with a laugh.

 

"Oh! Buckner is all right," responded Breckinridge; "but he ought to be

here now."

 

It was finally agreed that a meeting should be called at Georgetown, in

Scott county, on the 17th, at which meeting decisive steps should be

taken to prevent the shipment of the arms.

 

All of this Fred heard, and then, to his consternation, he heard his

father say:

 

"Gentlemen, before you go, I want to introduce my son to you. I am

afraid he is a little inclined to be for the Union, and I think a

meeting with you gentlemen may serve to make him see things in a

different light."

 

So Fred was called, and nerving himself for the interview, he went down.

As he entered the room, Major Hockoday stared at him a moment in

surprise, and then exclaimed:

 

"Great God! Shackelford, that is not your son; that is the young villain

who stole my dispatch from Conway!"

 

"The very same," said Fred, smiling. "How do you do, Major; I am glad to

see you looking so well. I see that the loss of that dispatch didn't worry you so much as to make you sick."