expression on his face—he looked mighty sheepish, I tell you. But he admitted hit, you know, he had to own up.
“You were right,” he said. “You won the bet. But—I’ll tell you what I’ll do!” He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. “I’ve got a hundred dollars left—and with me hit’s all or nothin’! We’ll draw cards fer this last hundred, mine against yorn—high card wins!”
Well, I was ready fer him. I pulled out my hundred, and I said, “Git out the deck!”
So they brought the deck out then and Jim Weaver shuffled hit and held hit while we drawed. Bob Saunders drawed first and he drawed the eight of spades. When I turned my card up I had one of the queens.
Well, sir, you should have seen the look upon Bob Saunders’ face. I tell you what, the fellers whooped and hollered till he looked like he was ready to crawl through a hole in the floor. We all had some fun with him, and then, of course, I gave the money back. I never kept a penny in my life I made from gamblin’.
But that’s the way hit was with me in those days—I was ready fer hit—fer anything. If any kind of devilment or foolishness came up I was right in on hit with the ringleaders.
Well then, Fort Donelson was the funniest fight that I was ever in because hit was all fun fer me without no fightin’. And that jest suited me. And Stone Mountain was the most peculiar fight that I was in because—well, I’ll tell you a strange story and you can figger fer yourself if you ever heared about a fight like that before.
Did you ever hear of a battle in which one side never fired a shot and yet won the fight and did more damage and more destruction to the other side than all the guns and cannon in the world could do? Well, that was the battle of Stone Mountain. Now, I was in a lot of battles. But the battle of Stone Mountain was the queerest one of the whole war.
I’ll tell you how hit was.
We was up on top of the Mountain and the Yankees was below us tryin’ to drive us out and take the Mountain. We couldn’t git our guns up thar, we didn’t try to—we didn’t have to git our guns up thar. The only gun I ever seed up thar was a little brass howitzer that we pulled up with ropes, but we never fired a shot with hit. We didn’t git a chance to use hit. We no more’n got hit in position before a shell exploded right on top of hit and split that little howitzer plumb in two. Hit jest fell into two parts: you couldn’t have made a neater job of hit if you’d cut hit down the middle with a saw. I’ll never fergit that little howitzer and the way they split hit plumb in two.
As for the rest of the fightin’ on our side, hit was done with rocks and stones. We gathered together a great pile of rocks and stones and boulders all along the top of the Mountain, and when they attacked we waited and let ’em have hit.
The Yankees attacked in three lines, one after the other. We waited until the first line was no more’n thirty feet below us—until we could see the whites of their eyes, as the sayin’ goes—and then we let ’em have hit. We jest rolled those boulders down on ’em, and I tell you what, hit was an awful thing to watch. I never saw no worse destruction than that with guns and cannon during the whole war.
You could hear ’em screamin’ and hollerin’ until hit made your blood run cold. They kept comin’ on and we mowed ’em down by the hundreds. We mowed ’em down without firin’ a single shot. We crushed them, wiped them out—jest by rollin’ those big rocks and boulders down on them.
There was bigger battles in the war, but Stone Mountain was the queerest one I ever seed.
* * *
Fort Donelson came early in the war, and Stone Mountain came later toward the end. And one was funny and the other was peculiar, but thar was fightin’ in between that wasn’t neither one. I’m goin’ to tell you about that.
Fort Donelson was the first big fight that we was in—and as I say, we
“You were right,” he said. “You won the bet. But—I’ll tell you what I’ll do!” He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. “I’ve got a hundred dollars left—and with me hit’s all or nothin’! We’ll draw cards fer this last hundred, mine against yorn—high card wins!”
Well, I was ready fer him. I pulled out my hundred, and I said, “Git out the deck!”
So they brought the deck out then and Jim Weaver shuffled hit and held hit while we drawed. Bob Saunders drawed first and he drawed the eight of spades. When I turned my card up I had one of the queens.
Well, sir, you should have seen the look upon Bob Saunders’ face. I tell you what, the fellers whooped and hollered till he looked like he was ready to crawl through a hole in the floor. We all had some fun with him, and then, of course, I gave the money back. I never kept a penny in my life I made from gamblin’.
But that’s the way hit was with me in those days—I was ready fer hit—fer anything. If any kind of devilment or foolishness came up I was right in on hit with the ringleaders.
Well then, Fort Donelson was the funniest fight that I was ever in because hit was all fun fer me without no fightin’. And that jest suited me. And Stone Mountain was the most peculiar fight that I was in because—well, I’ll tell you a strange story and you can figger fer yourself if you ever heared about a fight like that before.
Did you ever hear of a battle in which one side never fired a shot and yet won the fight and did more damage and more destruction to the other side than all the guns and cannon in the world could do? Well, that was the battle of Stone Mountain. Now, I was in a lot of battles. But the battle of Stone Mountain was the queerest one of the whole war.
I’ll tell you how hit was.
We was up on top of the Mountain and the Yankees was below us tryin’ to drive us out and take the Mountain. We couldn’t git our guns up thar, we didn’t try to—we didn’t have to git our guns up thar. The only gun I ever seed up thar was a little brass howitzer that we pulled up with ropes, but we never fired a shot with hit. We didn’t git a chance to use hit. We no more’n got hit in position before a shell exploded right on top of hit and split that little howitzer plumb in two. Hit jest fell into two parts: you couldn’t have made a neater job of hit if you’d cut hit down the middle with a saw. I’ll never fergit that little howitzer and the way they split hit plumb in two.
As for the rest of the fightin’ on our side, hit was done with rocks and stones. We gathered together a great pile of rocks and stones and boulders all along the top of the Mountain, and when they attacked we waited and let ’em have hit.
The Yankees attacked in three lines, one after the other. We waited until the first line was no more’n thirty feet below us—until we could see the whites of their eyes, as the sayin’ goes—and then we let ’em have hit. We jest rolled those boulders down on ’em, and I tell you what, hit was an awful thing to watch. I never saw no worse destruction than that with guns and cannon during the whole war.
You could hear ’em screamin’ and hollerin’ until hit made your blood run cold. They kept comin’ on and we mowed ’em down by the hundreds. We mowed ’em down without firin’ a single shot. We crushed them, wiped them out—jest by rollin’ those big rocks and boulders down on them.
There was bigger battles in the war, but Stone Mountain was the queerest one I ever seed.
* * *
Fort Donelson came early in the war, and Stone Mountain came later toward the end. And one was funny and the other was peculiar, but thar was fightin’ in between that wasn’t neither one. I’m goin’ to tell you about that.
Fort Donelson was the first big fight that we was in—and as I say, we
Similar Books
