Unvanquished

me.

RETREAT 49

'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 to the 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 ain't 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 don't, 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 blue-bellied sons of bitches. Kill them!'

'Yes, sir,' I said. We went on.

'Good thing for his mouth Granny ain't here,' Ringo said. She and Joby were waiting for us at the Comp-sons' gate. Joby had another basket with a napkin over it and a bottle neck 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-de-do!' And then we came to the top of the first hill and he looked back, quiet this time, and said, 'Suppose they don't 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

50 THE UN VANQUISHED

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'U 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 was Vicksburg too: the yelling was in it, the embattled, the iron- worn, the supremely invincible) into his hand. 'I know hit,' he said. 'Hit come from 'hind the smokehouse. You brung a lot of hit.' ^ 'Yes,' I said. 'I brought enough to last.' *-We soaked the cuttings every time we stopped and opened the basket, and there was some of the food left on the fourth day because at least once a day we stopped at houses on the road and ate with them, and on the second night we had supper and breakfast at the same house. But even then Granny would not come in­side to sleep. She made her bed down in the wagon by the chest and Joby slept under the wagon with the gun beside him like when we camped on the road. Only it would not be exactly on the road but back in the woods a way; on the third night Granny was in the wagon and Joby and Ringo and I were under the wagon and some cavalry rode up and Granny said, 'Joby! the gun!' and somebody got down and took the gun away from Joby and they lit a pine knot and we saw the gray.

'Memphis?' the officer said 'You can't get to Mem-

RETREAT 51

phis. There was a fight at Cockrum yesterday and the roads are full of Yankee patrols. How in hell— Excuse me, ma'am (behind me Ringo said, 'Git the soap')— you ever got this far I don't see. If I were you, I wouldn't even try to go back, I'd stop at the first house I came to and stay there.'

'I reckon we'll go on,' Granny said, 'like John— Colonel Sartoris told us to. My sister lives in Memphis; we are going there.'

'Colonel Sartoris?' the officer said. 'Colonel Sartoris told you?'

'I'm his mother-in-law,' Granny said. 'This is his son.'

'Good Lord, ma'am. You can't go a step farther. Don't you know that if they captured you and this boy, they could almost force him to come in and sur­render?'

Granny looked at him; she was sitting up in the wagon and her hat was on. 'My experience with Yan­kees has evidently been different from yours. I have no reason to believe that their officers—I suppose they still have officers among them—will bother a woman and two children. I thank you, but my son has directed us to go to Memphis. If there is any information about the roads which my driver should know, I will be obliged if you will instruct him.'

'Then let me give you an escort. Or better still, there is a house about a mile back; return there and wait. Colonel Sartoris was at Cockrum yesterday; by tomor­row night I believe I can find him and bring him to you.'

'Thank you,' Granny said. 'Wherever Colonel Sar­toris is, he is doubtless busy with his own affairs. I think we will continue to Memphis as he instructed us.'