University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

Chewing such bitter cud as this, I had probably ridden a good
mile, when suddenly I heard the sound of human voices, and
looking up, discovered three men, mounted, and just in front of
me. They had hauled up, and were seemingly awaiting my approach.
A buzzing conversation was going on among them.
“That's he!” said one. “Sure?” was the question of another.
A whistle at my very side caused me to turn my head, and as I
did so, my horse was caught by the bridle, and I received a severe
blow from a club above my ears, which brought me down,
almost unconscious, upon the ground. In an instant, two stout
fellows were upon me, and busy in the praiseworthy toil of roping
me, hands and feet, where I lay. Hurt, stung, and utterly confounded
by the surprise, I was not prepared to suffer this indignity
with patience. I made manful struggle, and for a moment succeeded
shaking off both assailants. But another blow, taking effect upon
my temples, and dealt with no moderate appliance of hickory,
left me insensible. When I recovered consciousness, I found myself
in a cart, my hands tied behind me, my head bandaged with
a red cotton handkerchief, and my breast and arms covered with
blood. A stout fellow rode beside me in the cart, while another
drove, and on each side of the vehicle trotted a man, well armed
with a double-barrelled gun.

“What does all this mean?” I demanded. “Why am I here?
Why this assault? What do you mean to do with me?”

“Don't be obstropolous,” said one of the men. “We don't
mean to hurt you; only put you safe. We had to tap you on
the head a little, for your own good.”

“Indeed!” I exclaimed, the feeling of that unhappy tapping
upon the head, making me only the sorer at every moment—“but
will you tell me what this is for, and in what respect did my good
require that my head should be broken?”

“It might have been worse for you, where you was onbeknown,”

replied the spokesman,—“but we knowd your situation, and
sarved you off easily. Be quiet now, and—”

“What do you mean—what is my situation?”

“Well, I reckon we know. Only you be quiet, or we'll have
to give you the skin.”

And he held aloft a huge wagon whip as he spoke. I had sufficient
proof already of the unscrupulousness with which my
companions acted, not to be very chary of giving them farther
provocation, and, in silent misgiving, I turned my head to the opposite
side of the vehicle. The first glance in this quarter revealed
to me the true history of my disaster, and furnished an ample
solution of the whole mystery. Who should I behold but the
very fellow whom I had chased into town the day before. The
truth was now apparent. I had been captured as the stray bed-lamite
from Hamilton jail. It was because of this that I had been
“tapped on the head—only for my own good.” As the conjecture
flashed upon me, I could not avoid laughter, particularly as
I beheld the still doubtful and apprehensive visage of the man beside
me. My laughter had a very annoying effect upon all parties.
It was a more fearful sign than my anger might have been.
The fellow whom I had scared, edged a little farther from the
cart, and the man who had played spokesman, and upon whom
the whole business seemed to have devolved, now shook his whip
again—“None of that, my lad,” said he, “or I'll have to bruise
you again. Don't be obstroplous.”

“You've taken me up for a madman, have you?” said I.

“Well, I reckon you ought to know what you are. There's
no disputing it.”

“And this silly fellow has made you believe it?”

“Reckon!”

“You've made a great mistake.”

“Don't think it.”

“But you have: Only take me to C—, and I'll prove it by
General Cocke, himself, or Squire Humphries, or any body in
the town.”

“No! no! my friend,—that cock won't fight. We aint misdoubting
at all, but you're the right man. You answer all the
descriptions, and Jake Sturgis here, has made his affidavy that

you chased him, neck and neck, as mad as any blind puppy in a
dry September, for an hour by sun yesterday. We don't want
no more proof.”

“And where do you mean to carry me?” I enquired, with
all the coolness I was master of.

“Well, we'll put you up in a pen we've got a small piece
from here; and when the sheriff comes, he'll take you back to
your old quarters at Hamilton jail, where I reckon they'll fix you
a little tighter than they had you before. We've sent after the
sheriff, and his `spose-you-come-and-take-us,' and I reckon they'll
be here about sun-down.”