Part 10

Summer of 'sixty-three, sir, and Conrad was gone away-- Gone to the county-town, sir, to sell our first load of hay-- We lived in the log-house yonder, poor as ever you've seen; Roschen there was a baby, and I was only nineteen.

Conrad, he took the oxen, but he left Kentucky Belle; How much we thought of Kentucky, I couldn't begin to tell-- Came from the Blue-Grass country; my father gave her to me When I rode north with Conrad, away from Tennessee.

Conrad lived in Ohio--a German he is, you know-- The house stood in broad corn-fields, stretching on, row after row; The old folks made me welcome; they were kind as kind could be But I kept longing, longing, for the hills of Tennessee.

O, for a sight of water, the shadowed slope of a hill! Clouds that hang on the summit, a wind that is never still But the level land went stretching away to meet the sky-- Never a rise, from north to south, to rest the weary eye!

From east to west, no river to shine out under the moon, Nothing to make a shadow in the yellow afternoon; Only the breathless sunshine, as I looked out, all forlorn; Only the "rustle, rustle," as I walked among the corn.

When I fell sick with pining, we didn't wait any more, But moved away from the corn-lands out to this river shore-- The Tuscarawas it's called, sir--off there's a hill, you see-- And now I've grown to like it next best to the Tennessee.

I was at work that morning. Some one came riding like mad Over the bridge and up the road--Farmer Rouf's little lad; Bareback he rode; he had no hat; he hardly stopped to say; "Morgan's men are coming, Frau; they're galloping on this way;

"I'm sent to warn the neighbors. He isn't a mile behind; He sweeps up all the horses--every horse that he can find; Morgan, Morgan, the raider, and Morgan's terrible men, With bowie-knives and pistols, are galloping up the glen."

The lad rode down the valley, and I stood still at the door; The baby laughed and prattled, playing with spools on the floor; Kentuck was out in the pasture; Conrad, my man, was gone; Nearer, nearer, Morgan's men were galloping, galloping on!

Sudden I picked up the baby, and ran to the pasture-bar; "Kentuck!" I called; "Kentucky!" She knew me ever so far! I led her down the gully that turns off there to the right, And tied her to the bushes; her head was just out of sight.

As I ran back to the log-house, at once there came a sound-- The ring of hoofs, galloping hoofs, trembling over the ground-- Coming into the turnpike out from the White Woman Glen-- Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men.

As near they drew and nearer, my heart beat fast in alarm! But still I stood in the doorway, with baby on my arm. They came; they passed; with spur and whip in haste they sped along-- Morgan, Morgan the raider, and his band six hundred strong.

Weary they looked and jaded, riding through night and through day; Pushing on east to the river, many long miles away, To the border-strip where Virginia runs up into the West, To ford the Upper Ohio before they could stop to rest.

On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode in advance; Bright were his eyes like live coals, as he gave me a sideways glance; And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain, When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein.

Frightened I was to death, sir; I scarce dared look in his face, As he asked for a drink of water, and glanced around the place: I gave him a cup, and he smiled--'twas only a boy, you see; Faint and worn; with dim blue eyes, and he'd sailed on the Tennessee.

Only sixteen he was, sir--a fond mother's only son-- Off and away with Morgan before his life had begun! The damp drops stood on his temples; drawn was the boyish mouth; And I thought me of the mother waiting down in the South!

O, pluck was he to the backbone; and clear grit through and through; Boasted and bragged like a trooper; but the big words wouldn't do; The boy was dying sir, dying, as plain as plain could be, Worn out by his ride with Morgan up from the Tennessee.

But, when I told the laddie that I too was from the South, Water came into his dim eyes, and quivers around his mouth; "Do you know the Blue-Grass country?" he wistfully began to say; Then swayed like a willow sapling, and fainted dead away.

I had him into the log-house, and worked and brought him to; I fed him, and I coaxed him, as I thought his mother'd do; And, when the lad got better, and the noise in his head was gone, Morgan's men were miles away, galloping, galloping on.

"O, I must go," he muttered; "I must be up and away! Morgan, Morgan is waiting for me! O, what will Morgan say?" But I heard the sound of tramping, and kept him back from the door-- The ringing sound of horses' hoofs that I had heard before.

And on, on came the soldiers--the Michigan cavalry-- And fast they rode, and back they looked, galloping rapidly; They had followed hard on Morgan's track; they had followed day and night; But of Morgan and Morgan's raiders they had never caught a sight.

And rich Ohio sat startled through all these summer days; For strange, wild men were galloping over her broad highways; Now here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, now east, now west, Through river-valleys and corn-land farms, sweeping away her best.

A bold ride and a long ride! But they were taken at last; They had almost reached the river by galloping hard and fast; But the boys in blue were upon them ere ever they gained the ford, And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his terrible sword.

Well, I kept the boy till evening--kept him against his will-- But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale and still; When it was cool and dusky--you'll wonder to hear me tell-- But I stole down to the gully, and brought up Kentucky Belle.

I kissed the star on her forehead--my pretty, gentle lass-- But I knew that she'd be happy, back in the old Blue-Grass: A suit of clothes of Conrad's, with all the money I had, And Kentucky, pretty Kentucky, I gave to the worn-out lad.

I guided him to the southward, as well as I knew how: The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a backward bow; And then the glow it faded, and my heart began to swell; And down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky Belle!

When Conrad came in the evening, the moon was shining high, Baby and I were both crying--I couldn't tell him why-- But a battered suit of rebel gray was hanging on the wall, And a thin old horse with drooping head stood in Kentucky's stall.

Well, he was kind, and never once said a hard word to me, He knew I couldn't help it--'twas all for the Tennessee; But, after the war was over, just think what came to pass-- A letter, sir, and the two were safe back in the old Blue-Grass.