andersonville-第72部分

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and　eighty　miles　between　Macon　and　Savannah　there　were　only　three
insignificant　villages。　　There　was　a　station　every　ten　miles；　at　which
the　only　building　was　an　open　shed；　to　shelter　from　sun　and　rain　a　casual
passenger；　or　a　bit　of　goods。

The　occasional　specimens　of　the　poor　white　〃cracker〃　population　that　we
saw；　seemed　indigenous　products　of　the　starved　soil。　　They　suited　their
poverty…stricken　surroundings　as　well　as　the　gnarled　and　scrubby
vegetation　suited　the　sterile　sand。　　Thin…chested；　round…shouldered；
scraggy…bearded；　dull…eyed　and　open…mouthed；　they　all　looked　alikeall
looked　as　ignorant；　as　stupid；　and　as　lazy　as　they　were　poor　and　weak。
They　were　〃low…downers〃　in　every　respect；　and　made　our　rough　and　simple。
minded　East　Tennesseans　look　like　models　of　elegant　and　cultured
gentlemen　in　contrast。

We　looked　on　the　poverty…stricken　land　with　good…natured　contempt；　for　we
thought　we　were　leaving　it　forever；　and　would　soon　be　in　one　which；
compared　to　it；　was　as　the　fatness　at　Egypt　to　the　leanness　of　the　desert
of　Sinai。

The　second　day　after　leaving　Andersonville　our　train　struggled　across　the
swamps　into　Savannah；　and　rolled　slowly　down　the　live　oak　shaded　streets
into　the　center　of　the　City。　　It　seemed　like　another　Deserted　Village；
so　vacant　and　noiseless　the　streets；　and　the　buildings　everywhere　so
overgrown　with　luxuriant　vegetation：　The　limbs　of　the　shade　trees　crashed
along　and　broke；　upon　the　tops　of　our　cars；　as　if　no　train　had　passed
that　way　for　years。　　Through　the　interstices　between　the　trees　and　clumps
of　foliage　could　be　seen　the　gleaming　white　marble　of　the　monuments
erected　to　Greene　and　Pulaski；　looking　like　giant　tombstones　in　a　City　of
the　Dead。　　The　unbroken　stillnessso　different　from　what　we　expected　on
entering　the　metropolis　of　Georgia；　and　a　City　that　was　an　important　port
in　Revolutionary　daysbecame　absolutely　oppressive。　　We　could　not
understand　it；　but　our　thoughts　were　more　intent　upon　the　coming　transfer
to　our　flag　than　upon　any　speculation　as　to　the　cause　of　the　remarkable
somnolence　of　Savannah。

Finally　some　little　boys　straggled　out　to　where　our　car　was　standing；　and
we　opened　up　a　conversation　with　them：

〃Say；　boys；　are　our　vessels　down　in　the　harbor　yet？〃

The　reply　came　in　that　piercing　treble　shriek　in　which　a　boy　of　ten　or
twelve　makes　even　his　most　confidential　communications：

〃I　don't　know。〃

〃Well；〃　（with　our　confidence　in　exchange　somewhat　dashed；）　〃they　intend
to　exchange　us　here；　don't　they？〃

Another　falsetto　scream；　〃I　don't　know。〃

〃Well；〃　（with　something　of　a　quaver　in　the　questioner's　voice；）　〃what　are
they　going　to　do；　with　us；　any　way？〃

〃O；〃　（the　treble　shriek　became　almost　demoniac）　〃they　are　fixing　up　a
place　over　by　the　old　jail　for　you。〃

What　a　sinking　of　hearts　was　there　then！　　Andrews　and　I　would　not　give　up
hope　so　speedily　as　some　others　did；　and　resolved　to　believe；　for　awhile
at　least；　that　we　were　going　to　be　exchanged。

Ordered　out　of　the　cars；　we　were　marched　along　the　street。　　A　crowd　of
small　boys；　full　of　the　curiosity　of　the　animal；　gathered　around　us　as　we
marched。　　Suddenly　a　door　in　a　rather　nice　house　opened；　an　angry…faced
woman　appeared　on　the　steps　and　shouted　out：

〃Boys！　BOYS！　　What　are　you　doin'　there！　　Come　up　on　the　steps　immejitely！
Come　away　from　them　n…a…s…t…y　things！〃

I　will　admit　that　we　were　not　prepossessing　in　appearance；　nor　were　we　as
cleanly　as　young　gentlemen　should　habitually　be；　in　fact；　I　may　as　well
confess　that　I　would　not　now；　if　I　could　help　it；　allow　a　tramp；　as
dilapidated　in　raiment；　as　unwashed；　unshorn；　uncombed；　and　populous　with
insects　as　we　were；　to　come　within　several　rods　of　me。　　Nevertheless；
it　was　not　pleasant　to　hear　so　accurate　a　description　of　our　personal
appearance　sent　forth　on　the　wings　of　the　wind　by　a　shrill…voiced　Rebel
female。

A　short　march　brought　us　to　the　place　〃they　were　fixing　for　us　by　the　old
jail。〃　　It　was　another　pen；　with　high　walls　of　thick　pine　plank；　which
told　us　only　too　plainly　how　vain　were　our　expectations　of　exchange。

When　we　were　turned　inside；　and　I　realized　that　the　gates　of　another
prison　had　closed　upon　me；　hope　forsook　me。　　I　flung　our　odious　little
possessions…our　can；　chess…board；　overcoat；　and　blanket…upon　the　ground；
and；　sitting　down　beside　them；　gave　way　to　the　bitterest　despair。
I　wanted　to　die；　O；　so　badly。　　Never　in　all　my　life　had　I　desired
anything　in　the　world　so　much　as　I　did　now　to　get　out　of　it。　　Had　I　had
pistol；　knife；　rope；　or　poison；　I　would　have　ended　my　prison　life　then
and　there；　and　departed　with　the　unceremoniousness　of　a　French　leave。
I　remembered　that　I　could　get　a　quietus　from　a　guard　with　very　little
trouble；　but　I　would　not　give　one　of　the　bitterly　hated　Rebels　the
triumph　of　shooting　me。　　I　longed　to　be　another　Samson；　with　the　whole
Southern　Confederacy　gathered　in　another　Temple　of　Dagon；　that　I　might
pull　down　the　supporting　pillars；　and　die　happy　in　slaying　thousands　of
my　enemies。

While　I　was　thus　sinking　deeper　and　deeper　in　the　Slough　of　Despond；　the
firing　of　a　musket；　and　the　shriek　of　the　man　who　was　struck；　attracted
my　attention。　　Looking　towards　the　opposite　end　of　the；　pen　I　saw　a　guard
bringing　his　still　smoking　musket　to　a　〃recover　arms；〃　and；　not　fifteen
feet　from　him；　a　prisoner　lying　on　the　ground　in　the　agonies　of　death。
The　latter　had　a　pipe　in　his　mouth　when　he　was　shot；　and　his　teeth　still
clenched　its　stem。　　His　legs　and　arms　were　drawn　up　convulsively；　and　he
was　rocking　backward　and　forward　on　his　back。　　The　charge　had　struck　him
just　above　the　hip…bone。

The　Rebel　officer　in　command　of　the　guard　was　sitting　on　his　horse　inside
the　pen　at　the　time；　and　rode　forward　to　see　what　the　matter　was。
Lieutenant　Davis；　who　had　come　with　us　from　Andersonville；　was　also
sitting　on　a　horse　inside　the　prison；　and　he　called　out　in　his　usual
harsh；　disagreeable　voice：

〃That's　all　right；　Cunnel；　the　man's　done　just　as　I　awdahed　him　to。〃

I　found　that　lying　around　inside　were　a　number　of　bits　of　plankeach
about　five　feet　long；　which　had　been　sawed　off　by　the　carpenters　engaged
in　building　the　prison。　　The　ground　being　a　bare　common；　was　destitute　of
all　shelter；　and　the　pieces　looked　as　if　they　would　be　quite　useful　in
building　a　tent。　　There　may　have　been　an　order　issued　forbidding　the
prisoners　to　touch　them；　but　if　so；　I　had　not　heard　it；　and　I　imagine　the
first　intimation　to　the　prisoner　just　killed　that　the　boards　were　not　to
be　taken　was　the　bullet　which　penetrated　his　vitals。　　Twenty…five　cents
would　be　a　liberal　appraisement　of　the　value　of　the　lumber　for　which　the
boy　lost　his　life。

Half　an　hour　afterward　we　thought　we　saw　all　the　guards　march　out　of　the
front　gate。　　There　was　still　another　pile　of　these　same　kind　of　pieces　of
board　lying　at　the　further　side　of　the　prison。　　The　crowd　around　me
noticed　it；　and　we　all　made　a　rush　for　it。　　In　spite　of　my　lame　feet　I
outstripped　the　rest；　and　was　just　in　the　act　of　stooping　down　to　pick
the　boards　up　when　a　loud　yell　from　those　behind　startled　me。　　Glancing
to　my　left　I　saw　a　guard　cocking　his　gun　and　bringing　it　up　to　shoot　me。
With　one　frightened　spring；　as　quick　as　a　flash；　and　before　he　could
cover　me；　I　landed　fully　a　rod　back　in　the　crowd；　and　mixed　with　it。
The　fellow　tried　hard　to　draw　a　bead　on　me；　but　I　was　too　quick　for　him；
and　he　finally　lowered　his　gun　with　an　oath　expressive　of　disappointment
in　not　being　able　to　kill　a　Yankee。

Walking　back　to　my　place　the　full　ludicrousness　of　the　thing　dawned　upon
me　so　forcibly　that　I　forgot　all　about　my　excitement　and　scare；　and
laughed　aloud。　　Here；　not　an　hour　age　I　was　murmuring　because　I　could
find　no　way　to　die；　I　sighed　for　death　as　a　bridegroom　for　the　coming　of
his　bride；　an　yet；　when　a　Rebel　had　pointed　his　gun　at　me；　it　had　nearly
scared　me　out　of　a　year's　growth；　and　made　me　jump　farther　than　I　could
possibly　do　when　my　feet　were　well；　and　I　was　in　good　condition
otherwise。




CHAPTER　II。

SAVANNAHDEVICES　TO　OBTAIN　MATERIALS　FOR　A　TENTTHEIR　ULTIMATE　SUCCESS
RESUMPTION　OF　TUNNELINGESCAPING　BY　WHOLESALE　AND　BEING　RECAPTURED　EN
MASSETHE　OBSTACLES　THAT　LAY　BETWEEN　US　AND　OUR　LINES。

Andrews　and　I　did　not　let　the　fate　of　the　boy　who　was　killed；　nor　my　own
narrow　escape　from　losing　the　top　of　my　head；　deter　us　from　farther
efforts　to　secure　possession　of　those　coveted　boards。　　My　readers
remember　the　story　of　the　boy　who；　digging　vigorously　at　a　hole；　replied
to　the　remark　of　a　passing　traveler　that　there　was　probably　no　ground…hog
there；　and；　even　if　there　was；　〃ground…hog　was　mighty　poor　eatin'；　any
way；〃　with：

〃Mister；　there's　got　to　be　a　ground…hog　there；　our　family's　out　o'　meat！〃

That　was　what　actuated　us：　we　were　out　of　material　for　a　tent。　　Our
solitary　blanket　had　rotted　and　worn　full　of　holes　by　its　long　double
duty；　as　bed…clothes　and　tent　at　Andersonville；　and　there　was　an
imperative　call　for　a　substitute。

Andrews　and　I　flattered　ourselves　that　when　we　matched　our　collective　or
individual　wits　against　those　of　a　Johnny　his　defeat　was　pretty　certain；
and　with　this　cheerful　estimate　of　our　own　powers　to　animate　us；　we　set
to　work　t