The Unvanquished by William Faulkner Read Free Book Online Page B

coward, askeered to stay at home where the Yankees might get him. Yes sir. So skeered that he has to raise him up another batch of men to protect him every time he gets within a hundred foot of a Yankee brigade. Scouring all up and down the country, finding Yankees to dodge; only if it had been me I would have took back to Ferginny and I’d have showed that new colonel what fighting looked like. But not John Sartoris. He’s a coward and a fool. The best he can do is dodge and run away from Yankees until they have to put a price on his head, and now he’s got to send his family out of the country; to Memphis where maybe the Union Army will take care of them, since it dont look like his own government and fellow citizens are going to.” He ran out of breath then, or out of words anyway, standing there with his tobacco-stained beard trembling and more tobacco running onto it out of his mouth, and shaking his stick at me. So I lifted the reins; only the captain spoke; he was still watching me.
    “How many men has your father got in his regiment?” he said.
    “It’s not a regiment, sir,” I said. “He’s got about fifty, I reckon.”
    “Fifty?” the captain said. “Fifty? We had a prisoner last week who said he had more than a thousand. He said that Colonel Sartoris didn’t fight, he just stole horses.”
    Uncle Buck had enough wind to laugh though. He sounded just like a hen, slapping his leg and holding tothe wagon wheel like he was about to fall. “That’s it! That’s John Sartoris! He gets the horses; any fool can step out and get a Yankee. These two damn boys here did that last summer: stepped down to the gate and brought back a whole regiment and them just——How old are you, boy?”
    “Fourteen,” I said.
    “We aint fourteen yit,” Ringo said. “But we will be in September if we live and nothing happens. I reckon Granny waiting on us, Bayard.”
    Uncle Buck quit laughing. He stepped back. “Git on,” he said. “You got a long road.” I turned the wagon. “You take care of your grandma, boy, or John Sartoris will skin you alive. And if he dont, I will!” When the wagon straightened out he began to hobble along beside it. “And when you see him, tell him I said to leave the horses go for a while and kill the bluebellied sons of bitches. Kill them!”
    “Yes, sir,” I said. We went on.
    “Good thing for his mouth Granny aint here,” Ringo said. She and Joby were waiting for us at the Compsons’ gate. Joby had another basket with a napkin over it and a bottleneck sticking out and some rose cuttings. Then Ringo and I sat behind again and Ringo turning to look back every few feet and saying, “Goodbye, Jefferson. Memphis, how-dy-do!” And then we came to the top of the first hill and he looked back quiet this time and said, “Suppose they dont never get done fighting.”
    “All right,” I said. “Suppose it.” I didn’t look back.At noon we stopped by a spring and Granny opened the basket and she took out the rose cuttings and handed them to Ringo.
    “Dip the roots into the spring after you drink,” she said. They had earth still on the roots, in a cloth; when Ringo stooped down to the water I watched him pinch off a little of the dirt and start to put it into his pocket. Then he looked up and saw me watching him and he made like he was going to throw it away. But he didn’t.
    “I reckon I can save dirt if I want to,” he said.
    “It’s not Sartoris dirt, though,” I said.
    “I know hit,” he said. “Hit’s closer than Memphis dirt though. Closer than what you got.”
    “What’ll you bet?” I said. He looked at me. “What’ll you swap?” I said. He looked at me.
    “What you swap?” he said.
    “You know,” I said. He reached into his pocket and brought out the buckle we had shot off the Yankee saddle when we shot the horse last summer. “Gimmit here,” he said. So I took the snuff box from my pocket and emptied half the soil (it was more than Sartoris earth; it