General Nelson's Scout 30

General Nelson's Scout 30

"That lets us out of a mighty tough scrape," remarked the sergeant. "We

must have hurt them worse than we thought."

 

"Don't know about that," answered one of his men who was watching the

Federals as they retired. "There is only one of them who appears to be

badly hurt; and they have poor Moon and Hunt in limbo, sure."

 

"Better be prisoners than dead," answered the sergeant. "But, boys, let

us to the lieutenant. It's strange the Yanks didn't try to take him

back."

 

When they reached Calhoun, he was already showing signs of returning

consciousness, and in a few minutes he was able to sit up and converse.

 

"Where are the Yankees?" was his first question.

 

"Gone."

 

"Then we whipped them after all," and his face lighted up with joy.

 

"Can't say that we did, Lieutenant," answered the sergeant; "but they

left mighty sudden for some reason."

 

Calhoun looked around on his men with a troubled countenance. "I see

only five of you," he said; "where are the rest?"

 

"Two are back nursing wounds," answered the sergeant. "Sheldon is hit,

so hard hit I am afraid he is done for. As for Moon and Hunt, they have

gone off with the Yanks."

 

"Prisoners?"

 

The sergeant nodded.

 

The tears rolled down the cheeks of the young officer. "Boys," he said,

chokingly, "I believe I have lost my grip. There was that last picket

affair that went against us, and now we are all broken up in a fair

combat."

 

"Don't take on, Lieutenant," said the sergeant, soothingly. "It was that

chance bullet that cut your bridle rein that did the business. If it

hadn't been for that we would have wiped them out, sure. As it is, we

are thankful they didn't take a notion to lug you off."

 

"Perhaps they thought I was dead."

 

"No, they didn't," replied the sergeant, and then he told Calhoun what

had happened.

 

"What kind of a looking man was the leader of the Yanks?" asked Calhoun.

 

"He was a boy, no older than yourself. He was mounted on a magnificent

bay horse with a star in the forehead.

 

"I see it all," sighed Calhoun. "The leader of that party was my cousin,

Fred Shackelford. He knew me, and he spared me. Boys, help me on my

horse. I am badly shaken up, but not seriously hurt. We will square

accounts with those fellows one of these days."

 

And the little party, bearing their wounded, sadly wended their way back

to the Confederate camp.

 

For the next few days the weather was so bad and the roads in such a

terrible condition that both armies were comparatively quiet. Nothing as

yet had been heard from the advance of General Thomas, and General

Schoepf began to be very uneasy. At last Fred offered to ride toward

Columbia, and see if he could not get some tidings of the missing

column. The offer was gladly accepted, and Fred set out. He met with no

adventure until about fifteen miles from Somerset, when he suddenly came

face to face with a young soldier, and he supposed a Federal, as he wore

a blue great coat. But a second look caused a cry of surprise to burst

from Fred's lips, and at the same time the supposed Federal soldier

snatched a revolver from the holster. The cousins were once more face to

face.

 

"Put up your revolver, Calhoun," cried Fred. "Is that the way you greet

your cousin?"

 

For a moment Calhoun gazed on Fred in silence, then raising his hand in

courtly salute, he suddenly turned his horse, and jumping him over a low

fence, disappeared in a copse of wood.

 

Fred was on the point of raising his voice to call him back, when it

flashed upon him that Calhoun had been playing the spy, and that he dare

not stop, even for a moment.

 

"He was only stunned after all, when he was hurled from his horse,"

thought Fred. "I am so glad; a heavy load has been lifted from my mind.

I am also glad he has gone now. It would have been extremely awkward for

me to have found out he was a spy, and then let him go."

 

It was with a lighter heart that he pursued his journey, but he had gone

but a short distance when he met a courier from General Thomas with

dispatches for General Schoepf. He was informed that the advance of

General Thomas was but a short distance in the rear. A few moments more

and Fred was in the presence of his general.

 

"Ah, Shackelford!" said Thomas, "I am glad to see you. How is everything

at Somerset?"

 

"All right, General, only General Schoepf has been sorely worried over

your non-appearance."

 

"I do not wonder. The march has been an awful one, and has taken three

times as long as I expected. But we will be at Logan's Cross Roads

to-night, where I shall halt to concentrate my army. If the enemy does

not retreat, we may look for a lively time in about three days."

 

"The lively time, General, may come before three days," answered Fred,

significantly.

 

"How is that?" asked Thomas, looking surprised.

 

"The Rebels may conclude," answered Fred, "to attack you before you can

bring up the rest of your force, or get aid from Somerset. Fishing Creek

is very high; I had to swim it. It will be almost impossible to get

infantry or artillery over."

 

"I have thought of that," replied the general, smiling. "I shall try and

be ready for them if they come."

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XIV.

 

THE BATTLE OF MILL SPRINGS.

 

 

Fred was right in his surmise that Calhoun had been acting the part of a

spy. He had been playing a very dangerous game, and had been successful.

Disguised as a country boy, he had boldly entered Columbia, and in a

great measure had fathomed the plans of General Thomas. It was a matter

of common report that as soon as the army could be concentrated, General

Zollicoffer would be attacked. Calhoun had made a careful estimate of

the strength of Thomas' army, and when met by Fred he was taking an

observation of his order of march, and how long it would take the rear

brigade to reinforce the advance brigade, if it should be attacked.

 

The sudden meeting with Fred was a surprise to him. But when he heard

Fred's voice he knew his life was in no danger; yet he dare not tarry,

even for a moment, and so escaped as we have seen.

 

No sooner was he out of sight of Fred than he checked his horse. "That

was a lucky escape," he said to himself. "If I had to meet any one, it

was fortunate I met Fred. Poor fellow! I wonder what he thought of me!

I would so much like to have a talk with him, but it would have been

madness to have stopped, and then it would have placed him in a very

awkward predicament. Selim, old boy," continued he, patting his horse's

neck, "we have work yet before us; we must see where General Thomas

camps."

 

It was early on the morning of January 18th that Calhoun rode into the

Confederate camp at Beech Grove. Without changing his mud-bespattered

garments, he at once sought the quarters of Major-General G. B.

Crittenden, who had been placed in chief command of the army.

 

"Ah, Lieutenant," exclaimed the general, "I am glad to see you. I have

been thinking of you, and blaming myself for permitting you to go on

your hazardous adventure. He who acts as a spy takes his life in his

hands."

 

"It is an old saying that 'all is well that ends well,'" Calhoun

answered, smiling. "You ought to have seen what a splendid country

bumpkin I made; and I have succeeded beyond my most sanguine

expectations. I have very important news for you, General. General

Thomas is now encamped at Logan's Cross Roads, only ten miles away. He

will wait there for his rear brigade, and also for reinforcements from

Somerset. He has only one brigade with him, numbering not much over

4,000 men."

 

Calhoun then went on and gave General Crittenden the full details of the

strength of the Federal army, saying that he thought the rear brigade

of Thomas' army could not reach Logan's Cross Roads for at least two

days, and that owing to the height of water in Fishing Creek he believed

it impossible for Thomas to receive reinforcements from Somerset.

 

"If these forces all combine, General," continued Calhoun, "they will so

far outnumber us that it would be madness to risk a battle. To-morrow

Thomas will be isolated; his force is inferior to yours. I believe he

can be crushed."

 

"You think that your information as to numbers and position is

absolutely correct, do you?" asked the general.

 

"I do, General," answered Calhoun. "If you attack General Thomas in the

morning I am confident you will attack with a superior force."

 

"It is either that or a disastrous retreat," said the general, gravely.

"I will call a council of my officers at once. I wish you to appear

before them."

 

"As soon as I can get off some of this mud I will be ready," answered

Calhoun.

 

The council was called, and General Crittenden laid the facts before his

officers. Calhoun was asked a great many questions, to all of which he

gave full and sufficient answers. The council, without a dissenting

voice, voted to attack Thomas the next morning.

 

It was nearly midnight when the Confederates marched out of their

entrenchments, General Zollicoffer's brigade having the advance.

Calhoun acted as aid on the staff of General Crittenden. The distance,

ten miles, made a fearful night march, considering the roads. Calhoun

afterwards said that it was one of the worst marches he ever made. The

night was dark and gloomy. A cold drizzling rain fell that chilled the

soldiers to the very bone. Through the rain and the mud for hour after

hour the brave men of the Confederacy toiled on, animated by the hope

that they would soon meet and hurl back in inglorious defeat the men

whom they considered ruthless invaders of their soil. It took nearly

seven hours to march that ten miles, every step being taken through mud and water, sometimes nearly knee deep.