"Don"t believe they did," the giant grimly answered.
"Well, they will in a minute. Look there!"
The mouth of the cannon showed above the window, shoved through and now rested on the ledge; and behind it arose an enormous log. From the loop-holes in the court-house the gun was raked with buck-shot, but all the work was done from below and no one stood exposed. Once a hand, like a black bat, was seen upon the gun, but instantly it flew away, leaving a blotch of blood. And now the old bell, so quiet all the morning, began to strike--one, two, ten, thirty--slowly, with dread and solemn pauses.
"Look!" the Major cried. A red-hot poker glowed above the cannon.
Buckshot hailed from a hundred guns, and the poker fell, but soon it came again and this time flat upon the gun. The hand that held it was nervous and fumbling. Suddenly the breech of the gun slipped lower down the upright log. Up went the muzzle, and then came a deafening boom.
There was a crash over-head. The cupola of the court-house was shattered, and down came the bell upon the roof, and off it rolled and fell upon the ground with a clang. Out surged Mayo"s men, but a fearful volley met them, and amid loud cries and with stumbling over the dead and the dying, torn and bleeding, they were driven back. But they set up a yell when they saw the damage their gun had wrought. They could foresee the havoc of a better managed fire. Now the yells were hushed.
The Major"s men could hear a black Vulcan hammering his iron; then a lesser noise--they were driving the sc.r.a.ps into the gun.
"It will be worse this time," said the Major. "They have cut a deeper niche in the log to hold the breech and there"ll be no chance of its slipping. These walls will be shattered like an eggsh.e.l.l. Steady, they are at it."
Again the gun lay across the window ledge. The red-hot poker bobbed up, glowing in the dim light, but there was a crash and a rain of shot and it flew back out of sight; and it must have been hurled through the rear opening of the wall, for they were a long time in getting it. But it came again, this time sparkling with white heat. The guns about the square kept up an incessant fire, but over the powder the poker bobbed, and then--the whole town shook with the terrific jar, and windows showered their gla.s.s upon the street, and through the smoke a thrilling sight was seen--the roof of the brick building was blown into splinters and in the air flew boots, hats and the fragments of men--the gun had exploded.
"Out and charge!" the Major shouted. "Forward, Captain Batts!" he cried at the foot of the stairs, and the men came leaping down. The cry was taken up, and from every building about the square the men were pouring.
Mayo had no time to rally his force; indeed, it was beyond his power, for his men were panic-smitten. Into the fields and toward the woods they ran for their lives. It was now a chase. Bang, to right and the left, and in the fields the fleeing blacks were falling, one by one.
Once or twice they strove to make a stand, but h.e.l.l snorted in their faces--and death barked at their heels. In their terror they were swift, but from afar the rifles sucked their blood. The woods were gained and now they were better protected in their flight, dodging from tree to tree; some of them faced about and white men fell, and thus was caution forced upon the pursuers. So much time was gained that Mayo rallied the most of his men, but not to stand and fight. He had another plan. In a small open s.p.a.ce, once a cotton patch, stood a large church, built of logs, and thither he hastened his men, and therein they found a fortress. The Major called in his scattered forces. They gathered in the woods about the church.
"Are you going to charge them?" old Gideon asked.
"No, sir, that would be certain death to many of us. Hemmed in as they now are they"ll be deadly desperate. We"ll have to manage it some other way." A shower of buck-shot flew from the church.
"I gad, Major, they"ve got buck-shot," said Gid. "And they could mow us down before we could cross that place. They still outnumber us two to one--packed in there like sardines. Don"t you think we"d better scatter about and peck at "em when they show an eye? I"d like to know who built that church. Confound him, he cut out too many windows to suit me."
"Dodge down, men!" cried the Major. "Mr. Low, get back there, sir!"
"Be so kind as to oblige me with the time," said Low. "The rascals have smashed my watch. Punch a hole in my bath and then ruin my watch, you know. Most extraordinary impudence, I a.s.sure you."
"It is half-past three," said the Major. "And what a day it has been and it is not done yet."
Jim Taylor came forward. "Look out," said the Major. "They"ll get you the first thing you know. Why don"t you pick up a few grains of sense as you go along?"
"Why don"t some one scatter a few grains?"
"Hush, sir. I want no back talk from you."
"But I"ve got an idea," said the giant, with a broad grin.
"Out with it."
"Why, right over yonder is the Nelson plantation store-house," said Jim, "and at the front end is the biggest door I ever saw, double oak and so thickly studded with wrought-iron nails that their broad heads touch.
And my idea is this: Take that door, cut a round hole in the center with a cold-chisel, cut down a good-sized cypress tree, round off one end, fit it in the hole, with about five feet sticking through; let a lot of us strong fellows gather up the tree and, protected by the door, use it for a battering ram and punch that house down. Then we can work them freely, as the fellow says."
"Jim," the Major cried, "you are learning something. This day has developed you. I believe that can be done. At least it is worth trying.
But, men, if it should be effective, let there be as little unnecessary slaughter as possible. We are compelled to kill--well, we can"t help it.
However, take Mayo alive if you possibly can. I want to see him hanged on the public square. Now get the door. Here, Tom, you and Low cut down a cypress tree. Here, Lacy, you help. Low doesn"t know how to handle an ax. We"d better begin operations over there on the left. There are fewer windows on that side. We can batter down the door. No, there is a high window above the door and they could shoot down upon us. That won"t do.
We"ll take the left side. See, there are but two windows, both close together near the end. Look out, boys. Keep behind the trees. I wonder how solid those logs are. When was that church built, Captain Batts?"
"Don"t remember the exact time, but not so very long ago. I recollect that there was talk of a probable extension, the time that new revivalist was having the house built, and that must account for the few windows toward this end on the left. They"ve got a first-rate place to shoot from, but what astonishes me is that Mayo should want to make a stand when he must know that we"ll get him sooner or later."
"That"s easily explained," said the scout who had dashed upon the public square. "They are looking for a large body of reinforcements from the south, and Mayo knows what to expect if he should run, panic-stricken, into them. His only hope was in making a stand."
"Where is Perdue?" the Major asked, looking about, from one tree to another.
"He fell back yonder in the field," old Gid answered. "I ran to him, but he must have been dead by the time he hit the ground."
The Major said nothing. He stood leaning against a tree looking toward Jim and four other men coming with the heavy door.
"And old Billy," said Gid, "is----"
The Major turned about. "Well," he broke in.
"You know," said Gid, "we used to say that he always had a blot of ink on his head. But now he"s lying back yonder with a spot of blood where the ink was."
The Major called to Jim: "Put it down there." And then speaking to Gid he added: "That scoundrel must pay for this. Don"t shoot him--don"t even break his legs--I want to see them dangle in front of the court-house door."
With a chisel and a hammer the giant worked, on his knees, and it was almost like cutting through solid iron. The echo of his heavy blows rumbled afar off throughout the timber-land.
The detail of men came with the log, the body of a cypress tree, one end smoothly rounded. Jim took his measurements and proceeded with his work.
Once he had to drag the door to a better-sheltered spot. Bullets from the church were pecking up the dirt about him. Three times the piece of timber was tried, to find that the hole in the door was not quite large enough, but at last it went through and the giant smiled at the neatness of the work. And now the ram was ready. The firing from the church had fallen and all was silent.
"It will take about eight men, four on a side--all strong young fellows," said Taylor. "You old men stand back. Major, order Captain Batts to let go the log."
"Captain Batts, turn loose," the Major commanded. "You are too old for such work."
With a sigh old Gid stepped back, and sadly he looked upon the young men as they took their places. "Yes, I"m getting old, John, but you needn"t keep telling me of it."
"Sir, didn"t I tell you not to call me John?"
"Yes, but I thought you"d forgotten it."
Taylor and the Englishman were side by side, the log between them. Auger holes had been bored in the shaft and strong oak pins had been driven in to serve for handles.
"Remember to keep a tight grip on your handle," said Jim.
"I warrant that," the Briton replied. "Are we all ready? Really quite a lark, you know."
A stable had stood at the left boundary of the field, and one wall, cut down, was now a part of the fence. Circling about to avoid the undergrowth and at the same time to keep out of Mayo"s range, the men with the ram came up behind the old wall; and here they were halted to wait until the Major properly placed his marksmen. He made the circuit of the field, and coming back, announced that all was ready. A score of shot-guns were trained upon the two windows that looked out upon the s.p.a.ce between the stable wall and the church. Over the wall the door was lifted, and the shot-guns roared, for the negroes had opened fire from the windows, but necessary caution marred the effect of their aim.
Without a mishap the ram was lowered into the field. And now forward it went, slowly at first, but faster and faster, the men on a run, the lower edge of the door sweeping the old cotton stalks. Faster, with a yell, and the men about the field stood ready to charge. Shot-guns blazed from the windows, and shot like sharp sleet rattled off the heavy nail-heads in the door. Faster, and with a stunning _bim_ the ram was driven against the house. But the logs lay firm. Back again, thirty feet, another run and a ram, but the logs were firm. From the windows, almost directly in front, the buck-shot poured, and glancing about, plucked up the dirt like raindrops in a dusty road. Once more, back still further, and again they drove with head-long force. The house shook, the roof trembled, but the logs were sound and stubbornly lay in place. Back again, but this time not to stop. "To the fence," Jim ordered. A shout came from the church. The Major stamped the ground.
"Keep your places and wait for me," said Jim to his men. He leaped the stable wall. "Here, young fellow," he called, "run over to that store-house and bring a can of coal-oil. I was a fool not to think of this before. Why, even if we were to batter down the house they would kill us before our men could get there. Where is that axe?"
He seized the axe and began to split a dry pine log. Every one understood his plan; no one spoke. He split his kindling fine, whittled off shavings with his knife, and gathering up his f.a.ggots waited for the oil. The young fellow returned, running. Jim s.n.a.t.c.hed the can and sprang over the fence. The Englishman smiled when he took his place. "Really you have quite an odd fancy, you know," he said.
"Once more and easy," Jim commanded. "And may the Lord have mercy on them. But it has to be done."
Onward they went, leaning inward, treading slowly, and shot was sleeted at them from the windows. But there was no quickening step as the house was neared--it was a dead march. At a corner of the church they halted, and Jim, putting down his oil can, close to the wall, piled his f.a.ggots about it, and then, striking a match, set fire to the shavings.
"Back!" he commanded.