Manly Wade Wellman - Novel 1954 by Rebel Mail Runner (v1.1) Read Free Book Online

said
Grimes. “If we sink her to the waterline, and swim alongside in the dark—”
                 “It
might work!” Barry interrupted, his heart beginning to beat fast.
                 “We’ll
see if it does. Let’s go to the tinsmith.”
                 The
tinsmith was ancient, withered and nearsighted, but he understood at once the
problem Grimes presented. From the rear of his shop he produced four cubical
containers, each about a foot square.
                 “ These was old tea boxes,” he piped. “Will yore postoffice
fit in ’em?”
                 Barry
went back to the hotel for the letters. Then he and Grimes carefully packed
them into the four boxes, and the tinsmith soldered the lids shut.
                 “Now,
something to paddle this boat of ours when we’re traveling submerged and
quiet,” said Grimes, strolling through the shop. “Ordinary paddles won’t do—too
long, and too apt to splash.”
                 Barry
looked, too. “How about these?” he said, lifting one of a stack of long-handled
saucepans.
                 “Right!”
cried Grimes. “And they’ll act as balers when we want to come up to the top
again.” He turned to the tinsmith. “Sell us two of those. Likewise some wires
and staples—a hammer—yes, and a pair of pliers.”
                 The
tinsmith and a hotel porter helped carry the sealed boxes down to where the
dugout waited. Grimes departed, and returned with a covered basket.
                 “Two
ladies fixed us a big lunch,” he said to Barry, “and the commandant here, gave
me a letter to Captain Henry, at Haines’ Bluff. Now, we’ll get aboard the
supply boat yonder.”
                 It
was a small steamer, little more than a tug, carrying supplies and several
recruits for the Haines’ Bluff guard post. It steamed down river by midmorning,
and Barry and Grimes, squatting by the dugout on the deck, worked with hammer
and pliers.
                 With
staples and wire they fastened the four boxes in the bottom, between the two
boards that served as seats. With more staples they attached the saucepans, by
long pieces of stout cord, to the gunwales. More loops of wire inside the boat
would serve to hold the makeshift paddles safely when not in use. Then they
begged oil from the engineer to clean their hands of the smeared paint from the
drying dugout.
                By four o’clock they came to a crude landing beneath a high
bank of earth and rock, and were met by soldiers with the seedy uniforms and
splendidly kept weapons that Barry began to expect with fighting Confederates.
Grimes presented his letter, and Captain Henry, a serious-faced young man whose
uniform looked somehow elegant for all its tarnished braid and buttons, read it
and shook hands.
                 “Welcome
to Haines’ Bluff,” he said. “I’ve heard of your work, and I’ll help you any way
I can.”
                 “Will
some of your men wrestle our dugout into the water,” asked Grimes, “and is
there a place where we can squint toward Vicksburg ?”
                 “Come
with me,” offered Henry, “and I’ll lend you my field glasses.”
                 Barry
and Grimes scaled the steep bank after him. From its top, they looked over
river and country. Some distance below the guard position, the river was
cluttered with logs, an awkward, rope-bound obstruction that would most
effectively discourage any effort of hostile ships to steam up the Yazoo . On the bluff beside them, and on a high point opposite, watchful men stood in rifle pits.
Near them were posted cannon.
                 Henry
offered Grimes his binoculars. “Look southeast,” he said. “You can see the
course of the Yazoo , and where it empties into the Mississippi beyond.” Grimes squinted through the
glasses. “How far do you