Spake As a Dragon Read online

“Yeah, that’s it, Matthew, like I said I’ve heered him talk so much about his family I got to thinking I almost knew you myself. Bull get Luke and his...his...Indian friend a couple of glasses and bring a bottle of Red Eye over to my table. Reaching the table the stranger sticks out his hand, “I’m C.J. Cox, me and your father was together at Point Lookout.”

  “Howdy,” said Luke shaking his hand, “this here is my friend Nate.”

  Bull the barkeep is leaving the table as Luke nervously asks, “C.J., is there anything you can tell me about my father? He along with my brother Matthew and I all enlisted back in the spring of ’62, but Mother has never received a post from him. Was he injured too badly to write, I was with him at Gettysburg the day he got stabbed by that Yankee bayonet. I wouldn’t have thought that would have affected his writing arm though.”

  Sliding up close to the table C.J. leaned over and explained, “Most of the fellers in this saloon are Rebs, but one or two may not be, so with them Yanks winning the War, us Rebs have to be careful what we say. Ye know history is always writ in favor of the winning side.”

  “Go ahead C.J. tell me what you know.”

  Looking around from side to side as though he though someone might be listening C.J. began, “Point Lookout was a cesspool. The living conditions were terrible, the food, what there was of it, wasn’t fit for the hogs. And the Commandant, Adams was his name, was one of the worst. It was as though he had a burr under his saddle. He was sadistic. If it hadn’t been fer his grandpa being a President a while back, they’d have hung him from the nearest oak tree. His second in charge Sergeant Samuel O. Belue was just as bad. We had a name for the Sergeant, we called him, not to his face of course, S.O.B., ‘cept we used the real words. You see that was Blue’s initials, and about yer Pa’s posting letters. He was sending them every week or so. More since he got that job working with Blue – they had paper to write on.”

  “Very ingenious with old Belue’s initials, S.O.B., I like that.”

  “Not much to do in them prisoner camps Luke must get some fun when we could. Now back to Robert – he got picked to work with Blue in the Commandant’s office ‘cause Robert could read and write in a nice hand.

  Well, one day Robert was telling Blue if the burial gang had more food they could work harder. Robert had Blue convinced, but that dastardly Commandant overheard them talking and thought Blue and Robert was scheming up something. Actually I heard the thing that set the Commandant off was Robert saying to Blue that the Commandant could be court-martialed after the War fer mistreatin’ us prisoners. Anyhow, Blue was transferred to an infantry outfit and Robert was taken out of the Commandant’s office and put on permanent burial detail.”

  “C.J., this is all real interesting, but get to the part about what happened to my father.”

  “I am Luke, I am. Well, the food didn’t get any better, in fact, it got worse and poor old Robert’s health kept droppin’ lower and lower. There fer a while he couldn’t even git outta bed and go to the grub house. Ever now and then I would slip him a morsel or so. He lasted until the spring...”

  “Hold on C.J., are you getting ready to tell me Father died!”

  “Heck no Luke, just you wait. As I said, spring brought the end of the War. Me and Robert got paroled at the same time. The talk in the prison was once you got discharged a river steamer would take us down river to Norfolk, Virginny, ‘cept when that discharge day come Robert was so sick they sent him up the river to this hospital here in City Point. I volunteered to come with him ‘cause he couldn’t even walk by his self.”

  “T.J. I’m following you, but Nate and I have just come from the hospital and the Sergeant at the front desk said Father was let go back in September of last year. What happened to him?”

  “Well, you see Luke, Robert was laid up in that hospital for a pretty long spell, course I would go check on him from time to time, and by-ned I couldn’t hardly believe it – he begin to get better. Finally, one day I visited and he got up and walked across the room. One of them orderly’s told me Robert wuz suffering from malmunition.”

  “Malmunition...? Huh, oh malnutrition? Father was suffering from malnutrition?”

  “Yeah! Yeah, that’s the word ‘malmunition.’ The hospital man said Robert didn’t have enough to eat while he wuz in that stockade. Man, wuz that ever true.”

  “Okay, C.J. go on.”

  “Wells, it come that final release day. Your father had to take that old Oath of Alliance or whatever and then he walked out of that hospital. In the meantime I had picked up a small job working in this here ‘Rebels Roost,’ sweeping and cleaning up and all. Bull, the barkeep, has a small room out back that he lets me stay in, I brought Robert up here and hes been livin’ with me all these months.”

  Jumping up from the table Luke grabs C.J. by the arm, “Take me to him C.J., please I want to see him.”

  “Be glad to,” answered C.J., “but he ain’t here!”

  “What do you mean he ain’t here, where is he?”

  “Hold yer horses, and I’ll tell yer. Robert had picked up a few small jobs around town and saved practically ever penny, well he got his self one of them steamer boat tickets and sailed off down the river. He said he never could get back to Alabama walking. He was aim to put in at Norfolk catch another boat down to Charles Town, South Carolinny and try to make his way over to his brother’s place at a town called... Scars...Char...”

  “Scarlettsville?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. You jest missed him – he’s been gone pertneer a week now. I sure am goin’ to miss that old coot. Funny thing though...”

  “A week? Nate did you hear that – a week! We missed him by just a week!”

  “Yeah, sure did Luke, but we’ve done learnt two thangs – Robert is alive and we know where he headin’ - he’s goin’ home!”

  “Oh, C.J. sorry we got carried away about Father, what was so funny you wanted to talk about?”

  C.J. leaned over the table as before, “Did you ever know your father as a deeply religious man Luke?”

  “Deeply? No, I would not say Father was a fanatic about such things, but he was a good father, a good husband, and was generous to the poor and he would help a neighbor when needed. We went to church, but not every time the doors were opened. Why do you ask?”

  “The night before he left we wuz sitting out back smoking when yer father sez to me, ‘C.J. if I get back home I’m gonna send word to you at yer house in Bull’s Gap.’ You see, that’s where I am from Bull’s Gap, Tennessee...”

  “Okay, C.J. enough of the geography lessons, what was so important about Father and his religion?”

  “No Luke, you mistook what I said, it’s not about Robert’s religion it was about his Bible.”

  “What Bible?”

  “You see, that is a mystery, Robert never had no Bible! But that night afore he left he told me if I didn’t get a letter from him telling me he got home okay, I was to write and tell y’all not to forget his Bible. He said to tell y’all to remember 2K168. Reckon what he wanted y’all to do with them numbers? And yer Bible, was he afeared y’all wuz gonna lose it?”

  “C.J. that is peculiar, especially since he was talking to me about a Bible the day he was nearly killed at Gettysburg. At the time, I thought he was asking for a Bible, but he was telling me not to forget about the Bible! And those numbers were scratched on the rock where he was wounded at Gettysburg. Reckon what all of this means?”

  “Does he own a Bible Luke?”

  “Well yeah, at home, we only have one Bible and it’s about a foot thick. Father always said it belonged to Pappy, my great-grandfather, but I never saw him reading in it. Huh, the Bible, that is curious?”

  “What you thank Luke, does we head out fer Norfolk or try to catch’em at Charles Town?”

  “Neither Nate – even if we were able to get to Norfolk or Charleston we still might miss him. Both those places are pretty big and it would be easy to miss him. Nah, you and I are goin’ back to South Carolina a
nd hope he finds his way home. There just isn’t much more you and I can do.

  HUFFING AND PUFFING ACROSS THE MOUNTAIN

  “Slow up Sam, I’ve got to rest. You’re going so fast I can’t keep up!”

  “I’m sorry William, but I’m anxious, if I’m reading the map right that creek should be over this next ridge. Right over yonder is them Twin Peaks and that,” Sam said pointing, “got to be Chimney Rock.”

  “What you waiting for Sam, let’s get going.”

  Huffing and puffing William finally reaches the crest of the ridge Sam was talking about, but the forest is too thick to see down into the canyon on the far side.

  “William I remember Luke telling the story of Old Bill’s gold strike. Luke said Old Bill was in the creek when those outlaws rode up. I think if those gents were riding horses there must be a trail down into this gorge. Let’s try to work ourselves along this ridge and see if we might stumble upon the trail. Climbing down from here to the creek is going to take forever and it is so steep just one slip and we might end up with a broken leg.”

  “That’s good thinking Sam, come on let’s get at it.”

  “Hold on William, hear that? I don’t like that sound.”

  “Hear what Sam? All I hear is the water rushing down the creek below.”

  “Yeah, its water all right William, lots of water! It shouldn’t be this loud, and it definitely shouldn’t be rushing! Man, I wish we could see the bottom of the gorge and the creek from here.”

  Traveling along the crest of the mountain Sam and William walk through the woods trying to find another way down into the canyon below. It is tough walking for William; the snow was deep and beginning to get slushy. “William I’m telling you, it’s too warm. We ought to be freezing our butts off up here on top of this mountain this time of the year.” Sam hollers, “Here William, here is the trail.”

  Sam has found the trail leading from the top of the ridge to the creek below. It like the rock overhang where they had spent the night was probably a trail that had been used by the Indians for hundreds of years. Sam is worried, the closer they get to the creek below the louder the roar of the water increases. About half way down they could finally see the creek below. No, now the word ‘creek’ did not accurately describe what they were seeing. What they saw was a river! A wild, raging river being fed by the melting snow pack miles farther up the mountain.

  A couple of hours later Sam and William stand on a rock ledge overlooking the swirling, ice cold waters of Indian Creek. Best known today as the Indian River, this was no creek. The water at the creek covered the canyon almost from one side to the other. Not only was seeking gold out of the question, merely getting too close to the raging waters could be perilous to one’s life.

  With tears almost flowing Sam speaks, “William! William! What are we to do?”

  Sitting down on a fallen log, the two discuss the turn of events. Sam is visible upset, William is crestfallen, but sitting on this log isn’t getting them anywhere.

  “Okay Sam, you have been trying to warn me for a week about the early snow melt. I just did not realize its implications. When is the usual time the snow should be melting?”

  “William, not for another month at best, maybe two. I never dreamed the creek would be in flood stage so early in the season. What do you suggest we do William?”

  “Aw Sam, we ain’t got but one thing to do – bad as I hate to say it, go back to the farm and return later in the spring.”

  “All right William, but before we go I’m gonna nudge myself close to the waters edge and see if there has been any gold washed up.”

  “Sam, I don’t think that is a very good idea. Those rocks are wet and slippery and even if you find a nugget it will just be a stray one that happened to get washed out.”

  Disregarding William’s warning Sam begins to inch his way from his place of safety down toward the side of the roaring river. Sam bent over examining the dirt at the edge of the water. He cut off a length of mountain cane, which grew abundantly along these mountain creeks, and used it to poke the small rocks and pebbles.

  “Come back Sam, you’re close enough and haven’t seen anything!”

  Sam’s concentration was on the end of his cane and he did not notice he had ventured out onto a piece of rock that had been undercut by the swift flow of the river. Sam was unaware of the danger. Seeing something shiny; he tried to reach to pick it up. Nothing happened on the first step, but with the second he had placed most of his weight on the unstable piece of earth. It gave way and Sam is hurled headfirst into the turbulent, icy waters.

  “Grab hold of something Sam, I’m coming,” but by the time William had gotten upon his feet Sam had disappeared down the foaming rapids. William began to run downstream yelling as he ran, “Sam! Sam! Hold on, I’m coming.” A few hundred yards downstream the canyon narrows making it impossible for William to pursue Sam any farther. William stands at the edge of the river and stares downstream hoping to get a glimpse of Sam, but to no avail. Soaking wet and bleeding from scratches caused by the briers in the canyon William dejected, turns and begins to walk back upstream. Tears are forming at the corner of his eyes as he thinks what he will say to Catherine when he arrives back at Scarlett. He can do nothing but admit it was entirely his fault he should have stopped Sam. He will have to say he knew better, but let Sam venture too close to the water anyway.

  Squeezing the water from his hat, William sat on a rock and wished it had been he who had fallen into the icy waters. Telling the family was a fate worse than death. Placing the wet hat back upon his head he started back upstream toward the trail, above the roar of the water he heard something. Turning back toward the flood filled creek he hears, “William! William I am here. William!”

  ‘No, no, it can’t be,’ thought William, ‘is my mind playing tricks on me?’

  “William I’m here! Holding onto this tree!”

  William searches downriver and sees nothing. He scours the river from bank to bank carefully, ‘There, the tree.’ Sure enough, he has spotted Sam with one arm waving into the air the other hand hanging onto one of the tree limbs.

  An hour later William and Sam are sitting in a log lean-to William has quickly thrown together. William has a warm fire going and Sam sits buck naked (except for a blanket) waiting on his and William’s clothes to dry. “How can I ever thank you William, you saved my life.”

  Grinning, William replies, “You know in Indian lore, that means you are responsible for my life from now on!”

  “William, I will surely try, but in all seriousness I want to just say ‘Thanks.”

  “If it will get you to hush – you are welcome.”

  Extending his hand to William, who thinks Sam wants to shake, as their hands touch Sam opens his fist and a gold nugget drops into William’s. “You’re not telling me you held onto this nugget as you were being swept downstream?”

  “Sure did, and it’s yours now. I’m gonna call it the Good-Luck Nugget. In fact, if I ever get to mine on this creek that’s what I’m gonna call her the ‘Good-Luck Mining Company’, and in addition to me and Catherine I’m giving you one-third of my gold strike.”

  “Sam me and you don’t know nothing ‘bout running a business, especially a gold mine.”

  “That’s right William. Catherine’s got real book sense we need someone who knows how to run the whole operation. Catherine is the one to do it.”

  “Wait a minute Sam, what about Luke?”

  “Oh, well you know the whole map thing was given to him by Old Bill. Luke had the map and me and Catherine owned the land, so I’ve always thought Luke and Catherine would someday move back up to our farm and we would all work the mine together. It seems this is where they belong. Luke can provide the brawn and Catherine can be the brains. Me and you will let them run the mine as they see fit and we’ll just take our third and be tickled pink livin’ it up in Knoxville.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  BROTHER CHARLES

  Back at
the farm Sam and William sit by the fire, old Kentucky Lead warmly lies at their feet. Sam is the first to speak, “William, I’ve been givin’ it some thought about goin’ back to Caroline.”

  “Okay Sam, when are you proposing we set out to go back home?”

  “Nah, that ain’t exactly what I’ve been thinking about. What do you say we light out for Pennsylvania to see your brother Matthew and Mizz Kimberley’s father?”

  Sam went on to explain that Matthew and Mark depended on help to build the artificial legs. He reminded William about the story Luke and Catherine had explained how Matt and Mark were out of money and without money they had no choice, but to suspend their construction of the soldier’s artificial legs. Sam said he and William could journey to Gettysburg, first to help Matt and Mark build the legs and second he wanted to see the actual battlefield where his brother Charles was killed. He also wanted to visit the spot where Williams’s father was wounded.

  This was the first time William had heard about Sam’s brother, and it came as a shock. William wondered why Sam or Catherine had not mentioned Charles. When questioned Sam answered they did not want to bring up the name Gettysburg since it would revive the sad memory of Robert their father.

  Sam indicated his father, being a Quaker, was not too pleased with his son joining the Army, even if to serve as a hospital attendant. Sam said Charles had tried to explain he would be trying to save lives not taking them, he felt he had to do his part. His father would have nothing to do with him since his indication to join, saying Quakers should abstain from anything to do with War. Charles did not let his father persuade him out of his intentions, and he joined up the first chance he got.

  Sam said his father disowned Charles as did the church, even going so far as to say he now only had one son. He said Sam walked past his father’s room when news arrived of Charles’ death and saw him sitting with his face buried in his hand sobbing. Sam said he could hear his father repeating over and over, “My boy! My boy!”