University of Virginia Library

17. CHAPTER XVII.
A COUNCIL OF WAR.

SHOCKY, whose feet had flown as soon as he saw
the final fall of Pete Jones, told the whole story
to the wondering and admiring ears of Miss Hawkins,
who unhappily could not remember anything at the
East just like it; to the frightened ears of the rheumatic
old lady who felt sure her ole man's talk and
stubbornness would be the ruin of him, and to the indignant ears
of the old soldier who was hobbling up and down, sentinel-wise,
in front of his cabin, standing guard over himself.

“No, I won't leave,” he said to Ralph and Bud. “You see I
jest won't. What would General Winfield Scott say ef he knew
that one of them as fit at Lundy's Lane backed out, retreated,
run fer fear of a passel of thieves? No, sir; me and the old
flintlock will live and die together. I'll put a thunderin' charge
of buckshot into the first one of them scoundrels as comes up
the holler. It'll be another Lundy's Lane. And you, Mr. Hartsook,
may send Scott word that ole Pearson, as fit at Lundy's

Lane under him, died a fightin' thieves on Rocky Branch in
Hoopole Kyounty, State of Injeanny.”

And the old man hobbled faster and faster, taxing his wooden
leg to the very utmost, as if his victory depended on the vehemence
with which he walked his beat.

Mrs. Pearson sat wringing her hands and looking appealingly
at Martha Hawkins, who stood in the door, in despair, looking
appealingly at Bud. Bud was stupefied by the old man's stubbornness
and his own pain, and in his turn appealed mutely to
the master, in whose resources he had boundless confidence.
Ralph, seeing that all depended on him, was taxing his wits to
think of some way to get round the old man's stubbornness.
Shocky hung on to the old man's coat and pulled away at him
with many entreating words, but the venerable, bareheaded sentinel
strode up and down furiously, with his flintlock on his
shoulder and his basket-knife in his belt.

Just at this point somebody could be seen indistinctly through
the bushes coming up the hollow.

“Halt!” cried the old hero. “Who goes there?”

“It's me, Mr. Pearson. Don't shoot me, please.”

It was the voice of Hannah Thomson. Hearing that the whole
neighborhood was rising against the benefactor of Shocky and of
her family, she had slipped away from the eyes of her mistress,
and ran with breathless haste to give warning in the cabin on
Rocky Branch. Seeing Ralph, she blushed, and went into the
cabin.

“Well,” said Ralph, “the enemy is not coming yet. Let us
hold a council of war.”

This thought came to Ralph like an inspiration. It pleased the
old man's whim, and he sat down on the door-step.

“Now, I suppose,” said Ralph, “that General Winfield Scott
always looked into things a little before he went into a fight.
Didn't he?”

“To be sure,” assented the old man.

“Well,” said Ralph. “What is the condition of the enemy?
I suppose the whole neighborhood's against us.”

“To be sure,” said the old man. The rest were silent, but all
felt the statement to be about true.

“Next,” said Ralph, “I suppose General Winfield Scott would
always inquire into the condition of his own troops. Now let
us see. Captain Pearson has Bud, who is the right wing, badly
crippled by having his arm broken in the first battle.” (Miss
Hawkins looked pale.)

“To be sure,” said the old man.

“And I am the left wing, pretty good at giving advice, but
very slender in a fight.”

“To be sure,” said the old man.

“And Shocky and Miss Martha and Hannah good aids, but
nothing in a battle.”

“To be sure,” said the basket-maker, a little doubtfully.

“Now, let's look at the arms and accouterments, I think you
call them. Well, this old musket has been loaded—”

“This ten year,” said the old lady.

“And the lock is so rusty that you could not cock it when
wanted to take aim at Hannah.”

The old man looked foolish, and muttered “To be sure.”

“And there isn't another round of ammunition in the house.”

The old man was silent.

“Now let us look at the incumbrances. Here's the old lady
and Shocky. If you fight, the enemy will be pleased. It will

give them a chance to kill you. And then the old lady will die
and they will do with Shocky as they please.”

“To be sure,” said the old man reflectively.

“Now,” said Ralph, “General Winfield Scott, under such circumstances,
would retreat in good order. Then, when he could
muster his forces rightly, he would drive the enemy from his
ground.”

“To be sure,” said the old man. “What ort I to do?”

“Have you any friends?”

“Well, yes; ther's my brother over in Jackson Kyounty. I
mout go there.”

“Well,” said Bud, “do you just go down to Spring-in-rock and
stay there. Them folks won't be here tell midnight. I'll come
fer you at nine with my roan colt, and I'll set you down over on
the big road on Buckeye Run. Then you can git on the mail-wagon
that passes there about five o'clock in the mornin', and go
over to Jackson County and keep shady till we want you to face
the enemy and to swear agin some folks. And then we'll send
fer you.”

“To be sure,” said the old man in a broken voice. “I reckon
General Winfield Scott wouldn't disapprove of such a maneuver
as that thar.”

Miss Martha beamed on Bud to his evident delight, for he carried
his painful arm part of the way home with her. Ralph
noticed that Hannah looked at him with a look full of contending
emotions. He read admiration, gratitude, and doubt in the expression
of her face, as she turned toward home.

“Well, good by, ole woman,” said Pearson, as he took up his
little handkerchief full of things and started for his hiding-place;
“good by. I didn't never think I'd desart you, and ef the old

flintlock hadn't a been rusty, I'd a staid and died right here by
the ole cabin. But I reckon 'ta'n't best to be brash.” And
Shocky looked after him, as he hobbled away over the stones,
more than ever convinced that God had forgotten all about things
on Flat Creek. He gravely expressed this opinion to the master
the next day.