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I wuz on the top of a mounting on gyard, whar I could see for a hundred miles in every direction, an' I seed men marchin' toward Tullyhomy till my eyes ached a-lookin' at 'em. Yo'uns 'll stir up a mouty sight wuss hornets' nest at Tullyhomy than yo'uns did at Murfreesboro. "Well, we'll knock seven kinds o' brimstone out o' your hornets' nest, big as it may be," answered Shorty.
"I seen him givin' 'em something." "'Twas only a little mite o' terbacker," the man explained. "They'uns said they'uns was mouty hongry, and wanted t' know if I'd anything t' eat. I hadn't nothing, but I done had a little terbacker, which I tole 'em'd take away the hongry feelin', and I gin each o' they'uns a lettle chaw." "I shouldn't wonder but he's tellin' the truth," Shorty whispered to Si.
But 'when we have sich sorry weather as this, Shelbyville seems on t' other side o' nowhar. You've got t' pull through the mud an' swim every branch and crick, an' you're mouty lucky if you git thar in a week." "Why don't you build bridges over the creeks?" asked Si. "Can't do hit when hit's rainin' an they're runnin' over thar banks." "But why don't you do it when the weather's good?"
Ter make sure all on us must start with hit, fur gittin' through the lines is now mouty dangersome, an' somebody mebbe several is bound to git cotcht, mebbe wuss. The men I expected ter help me are all gone. I hain't nobody now but ye an Aunt Debby. D'ye dar try an' make yer way through the lines to-night?"
"More'n we'uns 've had sence we left home, an' mouty good vittles, too. You Yanks sartinly live well, ef yo'uns don't do nothin' else." "Yes," said Shorty, with a glance at his mud-stained garments, "we're bound to live high and dress well, even if we don't lay up a cent." "You sartinly do have good cloze, too," said the Sergeant, surveying the stout blue uniforms with admiration.
Thet makes me so'. I thot I'd seen 'em afore, an' this makes me sartin. They're mouty bad pills, an' they hain't heah fur no good. but whar did I see 'em? In some Rebel camp somewhar? No; now I remember. Ef I hain't powerfully fooled them's the two laddie-bucks thet Harry Glen an' me gobbled up one fine mornin' an' tuck inter Wildcat. They're bad aigs, ef ther ever war bad aigs."
"Thar, yer all right," he said, panting with the exertion, "but hit wuz a mouty loud call for ye. Gabriel's ho'n couldn't've made a much mo' powerful one." "I've lost my gun," said Harry, regretfully, as soon as he could compose himself. "Cuss-an'-burn the blasted ole smooth-bore," said Fortner, contemptuously. "Don't waste no tear on that ole kick-out-behind.
Sometimes Shelbyville is mouty fur off, an' sometimes she is right here. On bright, cl'ar days, when the roads is good, hit's only a few steps over thar jest two sees an' a holler." "What's that?" said Si. "Two sees an' a holler? How far is that?"
"What am I what are we to do in the meanwhile?" "Ye're ter do nothin', on'y stay in the house ez close ez ye kin, an' wait tell the chance comes ter use ye. Hit may be ter-morrer, an' hit mayn't be fur some days. These army moves are mouty unsartin. Aunt Debby 'll take keer on ye, an' ye 'll not be in a mite o' danger." "But we'll see you frequently?" "Ez offen ez I kin arrange hit.
A ride from Nashville sech a day ez this is mouty good for the appetite, an' we've hed supper waitin' ye." Hastily throwing off her hat and gloves, she sat down with the rest, to a homely but excellent supper, which they all ate in silence. During the meal a muscular, well knit man of thirty entered. "All clar, outside, Bill?" asked Fortenr. "All clar," replied the man.
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