University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.
THE CHURCH MILITANT.

BUD was doubly enlisted on the side of John Pearson,
the basket-maker. In the first place, he knew
that this persecution of the unpopular old man was
only a blind to save somebody else; that they were
thieves who cried “Stop thief!” And he felt consequently
that this was a chance to put his newly-formed resolutions
into practice. The Old Testament religious life, which consists
in fighting the Lord's enemies, suited Bud's temper and education.
It might lead to something better. It was the best possible to
him, now. But I am afraid I shall have to acknowledge that
there was a second motive that moved Bud to this championship.
The good heart of Martha Hawkins having espoused the cause of
the basket-maker, the heart of Bud Means could not help feeling
warmly on the same side. Blessed is that man in whose life the
driving of duty and the drawing of love impel the same way!
But why speak of the driving of duty? For already Bud was
learning the better lesson of serving God for the love of God.

The old basket-maker was the most unpopular man in Flat

Creek district. He had two great vices. He would go to Clifty
and have a “spree” once in three months. And he would tell the
truth in a most unscrupulous manner. A man given to plain
speaking was quite as objectionable in Flat Creek as he would
have been in France under the Empire, the Commune, or the
Republic. People who live in glass houses have a horror of
people who throw stones. And the old basket-maker, having no
friends, was a good scape-goat. In driving him off, Pete Jones
would get rid of a dangerous neighbor and divert attention from
himself. The immediate crime of the basket-maker was that he
had happened to see too much.

“Mr. Hartsook,” said Bud, when they got out into the road,
“you'd better go straight home to the Squire's. Bekase ef this
lightnin' strikes a second time it'll strike awful closte to you.
You hadn't better be seen with us. Which way did you come,
Shocky?”

“Why, I tried to come down the holler, but I met Jones right
by the big road, and he sweared at me and said he'd kill me
ef I didn't go back and stay. And so I went back to the house
and then slipped out through the graveyard. You see I was
bound to come ef I got skinned. For Mr. Pearson's stuck to me
and I mean to stick to him, you see.”

Bud led Shocky through the graveyard. But when they
reached the forest path from the graveyard he thought that perhaps
it was not best to “show his hand,” as he expressed it, too
soon.

“Now, Shocky,” he said, “do you run ahead and tell the ole
man that I want to see him right off down by the Spring-in-rock.
I'll keep closte behind you, and ef anybody offers to trouble you,
do you let off a yell and I'll be thar in no time.”

When Ralph left the school-house he felt mean. There were
Bud and Shocky gone on an errand of mercy, and he, the truant
member of the Church of the Best Licks, was not with them.
The more he thought of it the more he seemed to be a coward,
and the more he despised himself; so, yielding as usual to the first
brave impulse, he leaped nimbly over the fence and started briskly
through the forest in a direction intersecting the path on which
were Bud and Shocky. He came in sight just in time to see the
first conflict of the Church in the Wilderness with her foes.

For Shocky's little feet went more swiftly on their eager errand
than Bud anticipated. He got farther out of Bud's reach than
the latter intended he should, and he did not discover Pete Jones
until Pete, with his hog-drover's whip, was right upon him.

Shocky tried to halloo for Bud, but he was like one in a nightmare.
The yell died into a whisper which could not have been
heard ten feet.

I shall not repeat Mr. Jones's words. They were frightfully
profane. But he did not stop at words. He swept his whip
round and gave little Shocky one terrible cut. Then the voice
was released, and the piercing cry of pain brought Bud down the
path flying.

“You good-for-nothing scoundrel,” growled Bud, “you're a
coward and a thief to be a-beatin' a little creetur like him!” and
with that Bud walked up on Jones, who prudently changed position
in such a way as to get the upper side of the hill.

“Well, I'll gin you the upper side, but come on,” cried Bud,
“ef you a'n't afeared to fight somebody besides a poor, little,
sickly baby or a crippled soldier. Come on!”

Pete was no insignificant antagonist. He had been a great
fighter, and his well-seasoned arms were like iron. He had not

the splendid set of Bud, but he had more skill and experience in
the rude tournament of fists to which the backwoods is so much
given. Now, being out of sight of witnesses and sure that he
could lie about the fight afterwards, he did not scruple to take
advantages which would have disgraced him forever if he had
taken them in a public fight on election or training day. He took
the uphill side, and he clubbed his whip-stalk, striking Bud with
all his force with the heavy end, which, coward-like, he had
loaded with lead. Bud threw up his strong left arm and parried
the blow, which, however, was so fierce that it fractured one of
the bones of the arm. Throwing away his whip he rushed upon
Bud furiously, intending to overpower him, but Bud slipped
quickly to one side and let Jones pass down the hill, and as Jones
came up again Means dealt him one crushing blow that sent him
full length upon the ground. Nothing but the leaves saved him
from a most terrible fall. Jones sprang to his feet more angry
than ever at being whipped by one whom he regarded as a boy,
and drew a long dirk-knife. But Pete was blind with rage, and
Bud dodged the knife, and this time gave Pete a blow on the nose
which marred the homeliness of that feature, and doubled the
fellow up against a tree ten feet away.

Ralph came in sight in time to see the beginning of the fight,
and he arrived on the ground just as Pete Jones went down
under the well-dealt blow from the only remaining fist of Bud
Means.

While Ralph tied up Bud's disabled left arm Pete picked himself
up slowly, and, muttering that he felt “consid'able shuck up like,”
crawled away like a whipped puppy. To every one whom he
met, Pete, whose intellect seemed to have weakened in sympathy
with his frame, remarked feebly that he was consid'able shuck up
like, and vouchsafed no other explanation. Even to his wife he
only said that he felt purty consid'able shuck up like, and that
the boys would have to get on to-night without him. There are
some scoundrels whose very malignity is shaken out of them for
the time being by a thorough drubbing.

“I'm afraid you're going to have trouble with your arm, Bud,”
said Ralph tenderly.

“Never mind; I put in my best licks fer Him, that air time, Mr.
Hartsook.” Ralph shivered a little at thought of this, but if it
was right to knock Jones down at all, why might not Bud do it
“heartily as unto the Lord”? Gideon did not feel any more
honest pleasure in chastising the Midianities than did Bud in
sending Pete Jones away consid'able shuck up like.