"Miss Lou" Part 37

"I don't know but you are right," said the girl thoughtfully. "I didn't know you felt so about being free. Aun' Jinkey never seemed to trouble much about it."

"I'se 'feared Aun' Jinkey tink a heap on de leeks en inions ob Egypt."

"Dar now, Uncle l.u.s.thah, you po'ful good man, but you owns up you doan know nufin' 'bout spooks, en I knows you doan know nufin' 'bout freedom."

"Yes I does," replied Uncle l.u.s.thah. "Ef de day come w'en I kin stan'

up en say fer sho, 'I own mysef, en G.o.d ony my Mars'r,' I kin starbe ef dat He will. En dat' minds me, young mistis. IS we free? Perkins growlin' roun' agin dis mawnin', en say we he'p 'bout de horspital ter-day, but we all go ter wuk ter-morrer. I 'lowed he orter talk ter us 'bout wages en he des larf en cuss me. Wat's gwine ter be de end?

Ma.r.s.e Scoville en de big Link.u.m gin'ral say we free, en Perkins larf 'temptuous like. We des all a-lookin' ter you, young mistis."

"Oh, uncle! what can I do?"

"Shame on you, Uncle l.u.s.thah, fer pilin' up sech a heap ob 'plexity on my honey," cried Aun' Jinkey, who was as practical as she was superst.i.tious. "I kin tell you w'at ter do. I doan projeck en smoke in my chimbly-corner fer not'n. W'at kin you do but do ez you tole twel Ma.r.s.e Scoville en de Link.u.m gin'ral come agin? S'pose you say you woan wuk en woan 'bey, how you hole out agin Perkins en Mad Whately? Dey'd tar you all ter pieces. Dey say dis wah fer freedom. Whar yo' patience twel de wah'll end? De Yanks mus' do mo' dan say we free; dey mus' keep us free. Dar Aun' Suke. She say she free one minit en a slabe nex'

minute twel her haid mos' whirl off her shol'ers. Now she say, 'I doan know 'bout dis freedom business; I does know how ter cook en I'se gwinter cook twel dey gets troo a whirlin' back en forth.' You says I mus' trus' de Lawd 'bout spooks, Uncle l.u.s.thah. W'y kyant you trus' de Lawd 'bout freedom?"

The old man shook his head sorrowfully, for Aun' Suke and Aun' Jinkey's philosophy didn't satisfy him. "I'se willin' ter do my shar," he said musingly, "de Lawd knows I be. Ef I cud die lak po' Ma.r.s.e Yarry en de oders fer freedom I'se willin' ter die."

"Now, Uncle l.u.s.thah, your strong feeling and not your good sense speaks," said Miss Lou, who had been thinking earnestly, meanwhile recalling Scoville's prediction that the negroes might come to her for help and counsel. "Aun' Jinkey is certainly right in this case, and you must tell all our people from me that their only safe course now is to obey all orders and bide their time. Perkins' authority would be sustained by all the soldiers on the place and anything like disobedience would be punished severely. If what Lieutenant Scoville and the Northern general said is true you will soon be free without useless risks on your part. If that time comes I want you and mammy to stay with me. You shall be as free as I am and I'll give you wages."

"Dar now, young mistis, ef I know I free I bress de Lawd fer de charnce ter gib my wuk ter you. Dere's a po'ful dif'unce 'twix' bein' took en kep en des gibin' yosef out ob yo' own heart. Slav'y couldn't keep me fum gibin' mysef ter de Lawd en I been He free man many a long yeah, en I be yo' free man, too, fer lub."

"Look yere, now, honey," added Aun' Jinkey, wiping her eyes with her ap.r.o.n, "you kin bury sogers all 'bout de cabin ef you wanter. Uncle l.u.s.thah kyant do mo' fer you, honey, ner me, tookin resks ob spooks.

Des bury dem sogers, ef you wanter, right un'er my win'er."

CHAPTER XXVIII

TRUTH IF THE HEAVENS FALL

It was quite natural that the thoughts of Perkins and Mr. Baron should turn toward the growing crops, neglected by reason of events unprecedented in their experience. The announcement to the slaves, first by Scoville and later confirmed by General Marston, of freedom, had staggered both employer and overseer, but every hour since the departure of the raiding Union column had been rea.s.suring.

It is not within the province of this story to follow the fortunes of that force, since it is our modest purpose merely to dwell on those events closely related to the experiences of the Southern girl who has won our attention. She had suddenly become secondary in her uncle's thoughts. A phase of the war, like a sudden destructive storm, had been witnessed; like a storm, he hoped that it and its effects would pa.s.s away. The South was far from being subdued; the issue of the conflict unknown. He was the last man in the Confederacy to foresee and accept new conditions, especially when he still believed the Southern cause would triumph.

As the confusion of his mind, after the battle, pa.s.sed he began to look around and consider what should be done, what could be saved out of what at first appeared a wreck. When Dr. Ackley a.s.sured him that the house and plantation would be rapidly abandoned as a hospital, hope and courage revived, while to these was added the spur of necessity.

He knew that he must "make his crops," or his fortunes would be desperate. Remembering the value of timely labor in the spring season, he was eager on this second day after the battle to put his slaves to work again at their interrupted avocations. Accordingly he held a consultation with his nephew and Dr. Ackley.

"The hands are becoming demoralized," he said, "by unaccustomed duties and partial idleness. Some are sullen and others distracted by all kinds of absurd expectations. Uncle l.u.s.thah, the leader and preacher among them, even had the impudence to ask Perkins about wages. The Yankee officers, when here, told them they were free, and they wish to act as if they were. The sooner that notion is taken out of their heads the better. This can be done now while my nephew is here to enforce authority, better than when we are alone again. It seems to me that a certain number could be detailed for regular hospital duty and the rest put to work as usual."

"I agree with you, certainly," replied Surgeon Ackley. "Give me a dozen men and half a dozen women to wash and cook, and I can get along.

Lieutenant Whately, you, at your uncle's suggestion, can make the detail and enforce discipline among the rest."

"I was going to speak to you about this very matter, uncle," said Whately. "My overseer has been over and I find the black imps on our place are in much the same condition as yours, a few venturing to talk about wages or shares in the crop and all that nonsense. I sent him back with half a dozen men, armed to the teeth, and told him to put the hands at work as usual. Mother is going to ride over and spend part of the day. I don't wish her to be there alone just yet, and I shall gallop over in time to be on hand when she arrives. Things are getting settled, my arm is not so painful, and it is time we pulled ourselves and everything together. You struck the right note when you said, 'Now is the time to enforce authority.' It must be done sharply too, and these people taught the difference between the Yanks' incendiary talk and our rights and positive commands. From what Perkins says, this old Uncle l.u.s.thah is a fire-brand among your people. Give your overseer his orders and I'll see that he carries them out."

Perkins was summoned, acquainted with the policy--just to his mind--resolved upon, told to pick out the detail for hospital duty and to have the rest ready for work after an early dinner.

"Go right straight ahead, Perkins," added Whately, "and let me know if one of these Yankee-made freemen so much as growls."

Dr. Borden was not the kind of man to take upon himself undue responsibility. He had therefore mentioned to Surgeon Ackley Miss Baron's wish to give Yarry a special burial by the run and that she expected to be present.

Ackley good-naturedly acquiesced, saying, "I suppose there can be no objection to burying the man in a place of Miss Baron's selection, instead of the one designated by Mr. Baron. It's but a small concession to her who is so kindly bent on making herself useful. Let her have her own way in the whole affair."

The spirit of Yarry's turbulent career seemed destined to break out afresh over his final disposition. Uncle l.u.s.thah went to the quarters in order to obtain the aid of two or three stout hands in digging the grave. It so happened that his visit took place during the adoption of Mr. Baron's policy in dealing with his property and just before Perkins received his instructions. The negroes not engaged in labor relating to the hospital gathered around Uncle l.u.s.thah in the hope of receiving some advice from Miss Lou. Mournfully the old man told them what she and Aun' Jinkey had said, adding, "I doan see no oder way fer us des at dis time ob our triberlation. Ole Pharo sut'ny got he grip on us agin, he sut'ny hab fer a spell. But brudren en sistas, hit ony lak a cloud comin' 'cross de risin' sun. Let us des wait pashently de times en seasons ob de Lawd who alone kin brung de true 'liverance."

When he saw the deep, angry spirit of protest he threw up his hands, crying, "Wat de use? I warn you; I 'treat you, be keerful. Wat could us do wid our bar han's agin armed men? I tells you we mus' wait or die lak Moses 'fo' we enter de promis lan'." Then he told them about Yarry and asked for two or three to volunteer to dig the grave.

A score stepped forward and nearly all expressed their purpose to attend the funeral. The old man persuaded all but three to remain near the quarters at present, saying, "So many gwine wid me mout mek trouble, fer Perkins look ugly dis mawnin'."

"We ugly too," muttered more than one voice, but they yielded to Uncle l.u.s.thah's caution.

In going to the run Uncle l.u.s.thah and his a.s.sistants had to pa.s.s somewhat near the house, and so were intercepted by Perkins and Whately, both eager to employ at once the tactics resolved upon.

"Where the devil are you goin' with those men and shovels?" shouted Perkins.

"We gwine ter dig a grabe fer a Link.u.m soger down by de run," replied Uncle l.u.s.thah quietly. "That ain't the place ter plant the Yanks, you old fool. Go back to the quarters. No words. Leftenant Whately will detail the hands fer sech work. Back with you. Why in-don't you mind?"

"I hab my orders fum--"

"Silence!" thundered Whately. "Obey, or you'll go back at the point of the sabre."

Uncle l.u.s.thah and his companions still hesitated, for they saw Miss Lou running toward them. She had lingered to talk with Aun' Jinkey and was returning when she heard Perkins' high, harsh words. The overseer was in a rage, and limped hastily forward with uplifted cane, when he was suddenly confronted by the hot face and flas.h.i.+ng eyes of Miss Lou.

"Don't you dare strike Uncle l.u.s.thah," she said sternly.

Her appearance and att.i.tude evoked all the pent-up hate and pa.s.sion in the man's nature and he shouted, "By the 'tarnal, I will strike 'im.

I've got my orders en I'll find out yere en now whether a traitor girl or a Southern officer rules this place."

Before the blow could descend she sprang forward, seized his wrist and stayed his hand.

"Wretch! murderer! coward!" she cried.

"Oh, come, Cousin Lou, this won't do at all," began Whately, hastening up.

An ominous rush and trampling of feet was heard and an instant later the negroes were seen running toward them from the quarters and all points at which the sounds of the altercation reached them.

"Turn out the guard," shouted Whately. "Rally the men here with carbines and ball-cartridges." He whirled Perkins aside, saying, "Get out of the way, you fool." Then he drew his sabre and thundered to the negroes, "Back, for your lives!"

They hesitated and drew together. Miss Lou went directly toward them and implored, "Go back. Go back. Do what I ask and perhaps I can help you. If you don't, no one can or will help you. See, the soldiers are coming."

"We'll 'bey you, young mistis," said Uncle l.u.s.thah, "but we uns lak ter hab 'splained des what we got ter 'spect. We kyant die but oncet, en ef we kyant eben bury de sogers dat die fer us--"

"Silence!" shouted Whately. "Forward here, my men. Form line! Advance!

Shoot the first one that resists." He then dashed forward, sought to encircle his cousin with his arm and draw her out of the way.

She eluded him and turned swiftly toward the advancing line of men, crying, "Stop, if there is a drop of Southern blood in your veins."

They halted and stared at her. She resumed, "You will have to walk over me before you touch these poor creatures. Uncle" (for Mr. Baron now stood aghast on the scene), "as you are a man, come here with me and speak, explain to your people. That is all they ask. They have been told that they were free, and now the oldest and best among them, who was doing my bidding, almost suffered brutal violence from a man not fit to live. Where is the justice, right, or sense in such a course?

Tell your people what you wish, what you expect, and that they will be treated kindly in obeying you."