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Updated: June 12, 2025
With a long flying leap the rabbit led the charge straight into the enemy's ranks, and as the squirrel rifles rang out behind it, a blue horseman was swept from every saddle upon the hill. "By God, I'm glad I didn't eat that rabbit!" yelled Pinetop, as he reloaded and raised his musket to his shoulder.
Bland and Baker, having heatedly discussed the details of the victory, had at last drifted into silence; only Pinetop was awake this he learned from the odour of the corncob pipe which floated from a sheltered corner. "Come over, Pinetop," called Dan, cordially, "and let's make ready for the pursuit to-morrow. Why, to-morrow we may eat a civilized dinner in Washington think of that!"
"I'm out on parole," he replied, "but as soon as I'm exchanged, I'll fight if Virginia wants me. How about you, Pinetop?" The mountaineer shuffled his feet in the mud and stood solemnly surveying the landscape. "Wall, I don't understand much about this here parole business," he replied.
To men like Pinetop, slavery, stern or mild, could be but an equal menace, and yet these were the men who, when Virginia called, came from their little cabins in the mountains, who tied the flint-locks upon their muskets and fought uncomplainingly until the end.
Not the need to protect a decaying institution, but the instinct in every free man to defend the soil, had brought Pinetop, as it had brought Dan, into the army of the South. "Look here, old man, you haven't been quite fair to me," said Dan, after the long silence. "Why didn't you ask me to help you with this stuff?"
'Look here, Pinetop, he began, 'will you do me the favour to give me the name of the tailor who made your blue jeans? and, bless your life, Pinetop just took the mullein leaf from his eyes, and sang out 'Maw. That was what Bland wanted, of course, so, without waiting for the danger signal, he plunged in again.
He strode off across the field, and Dan, with the silver held close in his palm, flung himself back upon the ground and slept until Pinetop woke him with a grasp upon his shoulder. "Marse Robert's passin' along the road," he said. "You'd better hurry."
After a peaceful Christmas, New Year's Day rose bright and mild, and Dan as he started from Winchester with the column felt that he was escaping to freedom from the tedious duties of camp life. "Thank God we're on the war-path again," he remarked to Pinetop, who was stalking at his side.
Men who had wives and children in the city groaned as they marched farther from the ashes of their homes, and more than one staggered back into the ranks and went onward under a heavier burden. "Wall, I reckon things are fur the best or they ain't." remarked Pinetop, in a cheerful tone. "Thar's no goin' agin that, you bet. What's the row back thar, I wonder?"
Then Dan slipped into her hand the silver he had borrowed from the Union soldier, and the two returned penniless to the road. "At least we are men," he said almost apologetically to Pinetop, and the next instant turned squarely in the mud, for a voice from the other side had called out shrilly: "Hi, Marse Dan, whar you gwine now?" "Bless my soul, it's Big Abel," he exclaimed.
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