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After this there followed a long pause, during which the stranger looked about inquiringly, then said: "Jimmy, how long have you been living here?" "Not very long. We refugeed over in North Carolina the first part of the war. Then we came back to Spottsylvania County while father was in prison. Why, we just came here after the s'render.
En I 'spec' he would 'a' done it, too, ef de Yankees had n' s'picioned sump'n, en killed him fus'. Atter de s'render ole miss move' ter town, de niggers all scattered 'way fum de plantation, en de vimya'd ain' be'n cultervated sence." "Is that story true?" asked Annie doubtfully, but seriously, as the old man concluded his narrative. "It's des ez true ez I'm a-settin' here, miss.
"So, atter a while, we sent a flag o' truce, an' 'greed ter s'render ebberyting, on condition dat dey wouldn't hurt us no mo'. Jest ez quick ez we gib up dey tuk us all pris'ners. Dar was twenty-sebben in de squad I wuz wid. 'Long a while atter dark, dey tuk us out an' marched us off, wid a guard on each side. We hadn't gone more'n two or t'ree hundred yards afo' de guard begun ter shoot at us.
En I 'spec' he would a done it, too, ef de Yankees hadn' s'picioned sump'n, en killed him fus'. Atter de s'render ole miss move' ter town, de niggers all scattered 'way fum de plantation, en de vimya'd ain' be'n cultervated sence." "Is that story true?" asked Annie, doubtfully, but seriously, as the old man concluded his narrative. "It's des ez true ez I'm a-settin' here, miss.
Yer see, dar wuz two men, both claimed ter be sheriff o' dat parish. Dat was let me see, dat was jes de tenth yeah atter de S'render, fo' years alter I left h'yer. One on 'em, ez near ez I could make out, was app'inted by de Guv'ner, an' t'odder by a man dat claimed ter be Guv'ner.
The halt, brief though it was, proved fatal. His pursuer was on his heels, and the brave youth turned at bay. As if fate was against him, when he attempted to bring his rifle to a level, he made a slip and it dropped from his grasp. He had no time to pick it up. "S'render! s'render!" called his foe in good English, waving his right hand aloft with his gun grasped in it.
The answer was a flash, a sharp report, and a puff of smoke, Mark being conscious of a whizzing sound close by one ear. "You scoundrels!" he cried, passionately. "Surrender; do you hear?" "Not we," came in a familiar voice. "S'render yourselves. You're not Queen's officers, only pirates, and I'm going to retake my ship."
'Look at our gre't big army and see how few men you've got, he says. 'S'render, General Taylor, s'render, before we beat you into a cocked hat. General Taylor looks at him no, he doesn't, he looks 'way 'cross the hills, mountains, I mean and says, 'General Taylor never s'renders. And the Mexican whips his pony and gallops away.
"Uncle Sim hed ter s'render his shootin'-irons," she explained, "an' he 'ain't got no ca'tridge-loadin' ones lef. So he makes out with his old muzzle-loadin' rifle that he hed afore the war, an' I moulds his bullets for him rainy days."
Finally he went out to seek comfort from Uncle Jake, whom he found sitting with his back propped against the side of the corn-crib, drawing little quick puffs of smoke from his pipe. "Uncle Jake," he said, "Lee's just had to s'render." "Yes, honey." And as he looked into Uncle Jake's little red, watery eyes, he saw no comfort there, and turned away.
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