Gumbo

Squire Mugle was tall and cadaTerous. ïhe "boys" in Habersham of ten called him "Meechin' Mugle" because, though locally prominent, and well to do, he w ore an aspect as of one ahvaya looking for forebearance and toleration rather than expecting honor and respect. One feit a sort of pity at sight of his hollow-chested, angular forni, which was somewhat neutralized by doubt, however, when one noted certain hard lines of minor expression that seemed to denote the possession of more f orbidding attributes. His wife was dead, and he lived in a large, tumble-down house, two miles f rom the littJe Georgia town of Habersham. When the civil war came on he sold his negroes, retaining only Gumbo to assist in looking after his impoverished plantation. His neighbors flouted him as being a unionist, for preferring Yankee gold to good negroes. But slave property was growing uncertain; gold was sure, and secret hiding places plentiful. Gumbo was short, wheezy and timorous. Why the squire kept him, the least coinmercially valuable of his slaves, v. as wondexed at; but the squire knew, reasoning shrewdly with himself. "If I lose Gumbo," he would say, "I lose nothing much but a fat bag of 1 nuisance. The rest of my niggers were worth their price." Nevertheless, when the squire rose one night and hid his gold anew under a great hearth-stone in the kitehen, he saw a sight that made him, for the moment, repent having retained Gumbo to torment and wait upon him. That sable worthy, barefooted and in shirt and drawers, was staring at his old master from the doorway, while each hair of his kinky head seemed to be slowly straightfning. A devilish transformation conTulsed Squire Mugle's face. Dashing down his eandle, he sprang forward and seized Gumbo by the throat, as he stood in the pale moonlight streaming down from without. "Did you see it?" he hissed, fairly choking with passion. Gumbo gasped, gurgled, and at last managed to say: "Didn't see nuttin', 'ceptin' you, marse." Squire Mugie slowly loosened his grip, tightened it ngain, then took his hand away, hesitatingly. Gumbo knew! Where else could he hide his money? This spot was handy - right under his ftngers, so to speak. He desired no distant swamp or hollow with tell-tale tree marks, as a place to be hunttd for or forgotten, as the case might be. He loved his gold with a warm, personal affection. Next to Lhe joy of handllng it was the f eeling that it was near by, unseen, yet feit, as by a sort of delicious sixth sense - dead to most people, yet psychologically alive to misers and lovers. But Gumbo gazed at his old master with something like moisture in his little eyes. He was wounded to the quick by the nature of the squire's evident suspicion, and he bore the latter's scrutinizing look unflinchingly, though with an aspect of riproach. The squire seized ïumbo by the chin, raised the black face and glauced at it harder than ever. Then he released the negro and sighed. "I will trust you," he said, at lenglh. "Bilt if you speak, or even think mach about whát you have seen and heard, you are a dead nigger. One nlght a band of bushwhackers descended upo-i thein, for the neighboring mountains were ful] of these pests then. fhey were a set of compound rascáis, ciad indiscrhninately in blue and gray, and equally a curse to both confedérate and unicn sympathizers. They served Mammon wherever the aid of rope, bullet or lash could invoke that deity from the curious hiding-pla'ces wherein warstricken families bestowed their valuables. The squire was routed out, but stood protestingly on his dignity. He had 'out a few head of poor cattle left, too poor even for army beef. "Durn yer stock, old man!" said the leader. "We want yer money, so rush aroun' and git it tip." Gumbo stood quakingbehind his master. Though not above pilfering the squire's tobáceo, or rifling some henroost when f are was hard, he was faithful to that one great trust concerning what lay under the hearth-stone. "Is dey unyunners er is dey rebs, marse?" he whispered. "It maks no difference. They are thieves - so hush up. My all is in your keeping, Gumbo. H-s-s-h!" One of the men, approaching from behind, laid a hand on Gumbo's shoulder. "I'll bet this nigger knows wherc it is," hè remarked. "WeVe hearn 'bout you and yer one man, squire. Yer've got money hid away and we're jes' goin' ter hev it - eh, boys?" An echo of assent from the others Xollowed, and the man continued: "I also hearn what yer said to this nigger jes' now. So, out with the scads er we'll fir.d a way ter make him talk." "Boys." exclahned the leader, "it's cold work palaverin' out here! Tote ther squire inter the kitchen. I see thar's a fire in thar." Once all were inside, some pine knots were thrown on the embers, then Uie leader unwound a coil of rope from his waist. "Zeb," he commanded, "you and Torn go and cut pomp hick'ries." Two men left the room. Gumbo's teeth chattered with fear and cold, lor he was again ciad only in a shirt and drawers. Til give ver two minutes ter teil, squire. Af ter thet we takes other meana Shet yer won't b? apt ter like so well." "Meechin' Mugle" had planted himself on the hearth-stone, over his idol. "Gentlemen," Raid he, "you are troubling your sleeves fornothing. Don'twe look poor enmiorh ? There is meal in the soriier, a little cora in the cellar and a side or two of bacon. That is all - isn't it, Cumbo?" "Fo' Gord, yes, marse! We-uns makes coffee outen co'd, an' rubs oak ashes on de meat in placer salt - " "Shet up, wUl yer! " roared the leader. "Two minutes are about up. Boys, grab thet cussed nigger." Gumbo was seizcd by practiced hands. Beíore he really realized what was happening to him, he was swing-ing to a joist by the th umbs, with his toes barely touching the floor. His groans and entreaties were pitiful, yet he would tell nothing The squire raved helplessly, from his station on the hearth. Finally Gumbo'ï head feil to one side and his jaws hung loose. "Lower him down," ordered the leader. "When he comes to we'll put the wood on him if he don'tblab." A pail of cold water was thrown on the negro. He revived, drenched, shivering, and looked round at his master. Then the foolish, faithful creature moaned: "I hain't tole yit, marse!" "No- God bless you, boy - you haven't. I will have satisfaction for this outrage, men. I have been a mag-istrate, and I - " "Will yer shet up?" shouted t)he leader. "Xow boys, throw thet nigger over a barrel and nachilly warp the hide offen him with these hick'ries." Soon the kitchen resounded with Gumbo's cries; yet still he would not teil. "Up with him!" shouted the captain, now furious. "Put ther rope roun' his cussed neck. Take him out ter a tree." While this was being done, the leader turned to the squire. "See here," he said, "if yer don't give up thet money yer'll lose a nigger right here. We're in a hurry. Som; of YVheeler's cavalry are about and we hain't over anxious ter teil 'emhowdy to-nig-ht. So speak up lively now, er yer'll be short one more slave - sure as God made little apples." "Fo' Gord, gen'l'men! don't hang a po' niggah fo' stickin' ter his po' ole marsea - " Ah! Gumbo was in the air now. He was struggling, while merciless hands tug-pred at the rope. The squire leaped at the cord, cut it with his knife and Ftood over his prostrate slave, his eyes blazing like eoals. "Hands off, you heartless dogs!" he eried. "You shall not murder the boy. If you wiü have money, come with me, and may God curse the last one of you!" He loosed the rope, raised Gumbo up nnd led him toward the kitchen, while the astonished bushwhackers followed, talking among themselves. The squire, still grasping his slave's arm, entered and strode to the hearth-stone, where he again faced the guerrillas. A confused noise was now audible down the public road. Two men entered , and whispered hurriedly with the captain. The noise increased to a clattering roar. "Git outen here, men!" shouted the leader. "Wheeler's men are comin.' " Then to the squire: "We'll be back ag'in, fust yer know. As fer thet blamed nigger - here's fer him!" A pistol shot bellowed through the room. Gumbo screamed, and the guerrillas rushed out pell-mell, mounted and were gone in a trice. Other troopa surrounded the house. A mulatto woman ran in and feil on Gumbo's neck as he sat disconsolate. "I hearn 'em!" she cried. "We hearn 'em et mother's. I knowed de sojers wuz in town a-furragin', so I up an run aa' let 'em know. One on 'em took me up behin' him, an' year I is - bless Gord ! What's de matter wid yer, Gumbo?" Gumbo rose to the emergency again, for his injuries, though painful, were not serious. "Why, howdy, Em'line," he responded. "Yer all come jes' in de nick ob time - sho'." Gray-eoated cavalrymen now swarmed in, and shots wêre fired about the place. Several bushwhackers were captured, and a g-uard was left, at the sqUire's request, lest the scoundrels were to suddenly return. Meanwhile Emeline made Gumbo soné corn cofEee, a soldier gave him a drink of sorghum rum, and he began to feel quite chipper again. His master watched him with kindly eyes. "I didn't teil, marse," said Gumbo presently. "No, you did not, but you have placed your old master under a deeper dëbt than mere money can repay, Gumbo. The New Year is pretty nearhere, and I am going to set you free - you rascal. You might have run away to the Yankees, but instead you have stood your master's best f riend through thick and thin. If that doesn't deserve freedom, I hardly know what does." "Den yer won't make me leab yer w'en I's free, marse?" Gumbo looked up anxiously, scarcely thinking enough ! of the boon, apparently, to say "thank you." "Not if you want to stay - and I hope you do." "H- rhow 'bout Em'line? Me an' she ■wants ter marry pow'ful,don't we.Em'line?" "G' way, niggah! I hain't talkin now." And yet Emeline looked pleased. "W- - e - 11." The sijuire hesitated. It was easier to give Gumbo freedom than gold. The negroes would probably ; all be free before long, anyhow. "Times is mighty tight, but you can have the ■ old mare, Gumbo, anü - yes - hang me if I don't! Emeline can have $50 for houee fixin.Efs.' "Eed'rit money, marse?" asked Gumbo, anxiously. "No- gold!" Bhonted "Meechin' Muple." desperately, though he gulped somewhat emotionally af torward. "It's extravagant - it's wasteful; but - you've earned lt, boy - that'sall!" The squire hurried off to bed to escape thanks and to reconcile himself to hisown liberaJity. Gumbo threw his anus round Emeline. "Fifty gole dollahs an' de ole blin' mar'!" he shouted, ecstatically. "Em'line - honey - we's richl" - New Bohemian.