飘-第93章

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laining　of　her　feet；　her　back；　her　internal　miseries；　her　complete　weariness；　until　her　mother　took　a　cotton　stalk　to　her　and　whipped　her　until　she　screamed。　After　that　she　worked　a　little　better；　taking　care　to　stay　far　from　her　mother’s　reach。
　Dilcey　worked　tirelessly；　silently；　like　a　machine；　and　Scarlett；　with　her　back　aching　and　her　shoulder　raw　from　the　tugging　weight　of　the　cotton　bag　she　carried；　thought　that　Dilcey　was　worth　her　weight　in　gold。
　“Dilcey；”　she　said；　“when　good　times　come　back；　I’m　not　going　to　forget　how　you’ve　acted。　You’ve　been　mighty　good。”
　The　bronze　giantess　did　not　grin　pleasedly　or　squirm　under　praise　like　the　other　negroes。　She　turned　an　immobile　face　to　Scarlett　and　said　with　dignity：　“Thankee；　Ma’m。　But　Mist’　Gerald　and　Miss　Ellen　been　good　to　me。　Mist’　Gerald　buy　my　Prissy　so　I　wouldn’　grieve　and　I　doan　forgit　it。　I　is　part　Indian　and　Indians　doan　forgit　them　as　is　good　to　them。　I　sorry　‘bout　my　Prissy。　She　mighty　worthless。　Look　lak　she　all　nigger　lak　her　pa。　Her　pa　was　mighty　flighty。”
　In　spite　of　Scarlett’s　problem　of　getting　help　from　the　others　in　the　picking　and　in　spite　of　the　weariness　of　doing　the　labor　herself；　her　spirits　lifted　as　the　cotton　slowly　made　its　way　from　the　fields　to　the　cabins。　There　was　something　about　cotton　that　was　reassuring；　steadying。　Tara　had　risen　to　riches　on　cotton；　even　as　the　whole　South　had　risen；　and　Scarlett　was　Southerner　enough　to　believe　that　both　Tara　and　the　South　would　rise　again　out　of　the　red　fields。
　Of　course；　this　little　cotton　she　had　gathered　was　not　much　but　it　was　something。　It　would　bring　a　little　in　Confederate　money　and　that　little　would　help　her　to　save　the　hoarded　greenbacks　and　gold　in　the　Yankee’s　wallet　until　they　had　to　be　spent。　Next　spring　she　would　try　to　make　the　Confederate　government　send　back　Big　Sam　and　the　other　field　hands　they　had　commandeered；　and　if　the　government　wouldn’t　release　them；　she’d　use　the　Yankee’s　money　to　hire　field　hands　from　the　neighbors。　Next　spring；　she　would　plant　and　plant。　。。。　She　straightened　her　tired　back　and；　looking　over　the　browning　autumn　fields；　she　saw　next　year’s　crop　standing　sturdy　and　green；　acre　upon　acre。
　Next　spring！　Perhaps　by　next　spring　the　war　would　be　over　and　good　times　would　be　back。　And　whether　the　Confederacy　won　or　lost；　times　would　be　better。　Anything　was　better　than　the　constant　danger　of　raids　from　both　armies。　When　the　war　was　over；　a　plantation　could　earn　an　honest　living。　Oh；　if　the　war　were　only　over！　Then　people　could　plant　crops　with　some　certainty　of　reaping　them！
　There　was　hope　now。　The　war　couldn’t　last　forever。　She　had　her　little　cotton；　she　had　food；　she　had　a　horse；　she　had　her　small　but　treasured　hoard　of　money。　Yes；　the　worst　was　over！
　
　CHAPTER　XXVII
　ON　A　NOONDAY　in　mid…November；　they　all　sat　grouped　about　the　dinner　table；　eating　the　last　of　the　dessert　concocted　by　Mammy　from　corn　meal　and　dried　huckleberries；　sweetened　with　sorghum。　There　was　a　chill　in　the　air；　the　first　chill　of　the　year；　and　Pork；　standing　behind　Scarlett’s　chair；　rubbed　his　hands　together　in　glee　and　questioned：　“Ain’　it　‘bout　time　fer　de　hawg　killin’；　Miss　Scarlett？”
　“You　can　taste　those　chitlins　already；　can’t　you？”　said　Scarlett　with　a　grin。　“Well；　I　can　taste　fresh　pork　myself　and　if　the　weather　holds　for　a　few　days　more；　we’ll—”
　Melanie　interrupted；　her　spoon　at　her　lips；
　“Listen；　dear！　Somebody’s　coming！”
　“Somebody　hollerin’；”　said　Pork　uneasily。
　On　the　crisp　autumn　air　came　clear　the　sound　of　horse’s　hooves；　thudding　as　swiftly　as　a　frightened　heart；　and　a　woman’s　voice；　high　pitched；　screaming：　“Scarlett！　Scarlett！”
　Eye　met　eye　for　a　dreadful　second　around　the　table　before　chairs　were　pushed　back　and　everyone　leaped　up。　Despite　the　fear　that　made　it　shrill；　they　recognized　the　voice　of　Sally　Fontaine　who；　only　an　hour　before；　had　stopped　at　Tara　for　a　brief　chat　on　her　way　to　Jonesboro。　Now；　as　they　all　rushed　pell…mell　to　crowd　the　front　door；　they　saw　her　coming　up　the　drive　like　the　wind　on　a　lathered　horse；　her　hair　streaming　behind　her；　her　bonnet　dangling　by　its　ribbons。　She　did　not　draw　rein　but　as　she　galloped　madly　toward　them；　she　waved　her　arm　back　in　the　direction　from　which　she　had　come。
　“The　Yankees　are　coming！　I　saw　them！　Down　the　road！　The　Yankees—”
　She　sawed　savagely　at　the　horse’s　mouth　just　in　time　to　swerve　him　from　leaping　up　the　front　steps。　He　swung　around　sharply；　covered　the　side　lawn　in　three　leaps　and　she　put　him　across　the　four…foot　hedge　as　if　she　were　on　the　hunting　field。　They　heard　the　heavy　pounding　of　his　hooves　as　he　went　through　the　back　yard　and　down　the　narrow　lane　between　the　cabins　of　the　quarters　and　knew　she　was　cutting　across　the　fields　to　Mimosa。
　For　a　moment　they　stood　paralyzed　and　then　Suellen　and　Carreen　began　to　sob　and　clutch　each　other’s　fingers。　Little　Wade　stood　rooted；　trembling；　unable　to　cry。　What　he　had　feared　since　the　night　he　left　Atlanta　had　happened。　The　Yankees　were　coming　to　get　him。
　“Yankees？”　said　Gerald　vaguely。　“But　the　Yankees　have　already　been　here。”
　“Mother　of　God！”　cried　Scarlett；　her　eyes　meeting　Melanie’s　frightened　eyes。　For　a　swift　instant　there　went　through　her　memory　again　the　horrors　of　her　last　night　in　Atlanta；　the　ruined　homes　that　dotted　the　countryside；　all　the　stories　of　rape　and　torture　and　murder。　She　saw　again　the　Yankee　soldier　standing　in　the　hall　with　Ellen’s　sewing　box　in　his　hand。　She　thought：　“I　shall　die。　I　shall　die　right　here。　I　thought　we　were　through　with　all　that。　I　shall　die。　I　can’t　stand　any　more。”
　Then　her　eyes　fell　on　the　horse　saddled　and　hitched　and　waiting　for　Pork　to　ride　him　to　the　Tarleton　place　on　an　errand。　Her　horse！　Her　only　horse！　The　Yankees　would　take　him　and　the　cow　and　the　calf。　And　the　sow　and　her　litter—　Oh；　how　many　tiring　hours　it　had　taken　to　catch　that　sow　and　her　agile　young！　And　they’d　take　the　rooster　and　the　setting　hens　and　the　ducks　the　Fontaines　had　given　her。　And　the　apples　and　the　yams　in　the　pantry　bins。　And　the　flour　and　rice　and　dried　peas。　And　the　money　in　the　Yankee　soldier’s　wallet。　They’d　take　everything　and　leave　them　to　starve。
　“They　shan’t　have　them！”　she　cried　aloud　and　they　all　turned　startled　faces　to　her；　fearful　her　mind　had　cracked　under　the　tidings。　“I　won’t　go　hungry！　They　shan’t　have　them！”
　“What　is　it；　Scarlett？　What　is　it？”
　“The　horse！　The　cow！　The　pigs！　They　shan’t　have　them！　I　won’t　let　them　have　them！”
　She　turned　swiftly　to　the　four　negroes　who　huddled　in　the　doorway；　their　black　faces　a　peculiarly　ashen　shade。
　“The　swamp；”　she　said　rapidly。
　“Whut　swamp？”
　“The　river　swamp；　you　fools！　Take　the　pigs　to　the　swamp。　All　of　you。　Quickly。　Pork；　you　and　Prissy　crawl　under　the　house　and　get　the　pigs　out。　Suellen；　you　and　Carreen　fill　the　baskets　with　as　much　food　as　you　can　carry　and　get　to　the　woods。　Mammy；　put　the　silver　in　the　well　again。　And　Pork！　Pork；　listen　to　me；　don’t　stand　there　like　that！　Take　Pa　with　you。　Don’t　ask　me　where！　Anywhere！　Go　with　Pork；　Pa。　That’s　a　sweet　pa。”
　Even　in　her　frenzy　she　thought　what　the　sight　of　bluecoats　might　do　to　Gerald’s　wavering　mind。　She　stopped　and　wrung　her　hands　and　the　frightened　sobbing　of　little　Wade　who　was　clutching　Melanie’s　skirt　added　to　her　panic。
　“What　shall　I　do；　Scarlett？”　Melanie’s　voice　was　calm　amid　the　wailing　and　tears　and　scurrying　feet。　Though　her　face　was　paper　white　and　her　whole　body　trembled；　the　very　quietness　of　her　voice　steadied　Scarlett；　revealing　to　her　that　they　all　looked　to　her　for　commands；　for　guidance。
　“The　cow　and　the　calf；”　she　said　quickly。　“They’re　in　the　old　pasture。　Take　the　horse　and　drive　them　into　the　swamp　and—”
　Before　she　could　finish　her　sentence；　Melanie　shook　off　Wade’s　clutches　and　was　down　the　front　steps　and　running　toward　the　horse；　pulling　up　her　wide　skirts　as　she　ran。　Scarlett　caught　a　flashing　glimpse　of　thin　legs；　a　flurry　of　skirts　and　underclothing　and　Melanie　was　in　the　saddle；　her　feet　dangling　far　above　the　stirrups。　She　gathered　up　the　reins　and　clapped　her　heels　against　the　animal’s　sides　and　then　abruptly　pulled　him　in；　her　face　twisting　with　horror。
　“My　baby！”　she　cried。　“Oh；　my　baby！　The　Yankees　will　kill　him！　Give　him　to　me！”
　Her　hand　was　on　the　pommel　and　she　was　preparing　to　slide　off　but　Scarlett　screamed　at　her。
　“Go　on！　Go　on！　Get　the　cow！　I’ll　look　after　the　baby！　Go　on；　I　tell　you！　Do　you　think　I’d　let　them　get　Ashley’s　baby？　Go　on！”
　Melly　looked　despairingly　backward　but　hammered　her　heels　into　the　horse　and；　with　a　scattering　of　gravel；　was　off　down　the　drive　toward　the　pasture。
　Scarlett　thought：　“I　never　expected　to　see　Melly　Hamilton　straddling　a　horse！”　and　then　she　ran　into　the　house。　Wade　was　at　her　heels；　sobbing；　trying　to　catch　her　flying　skirts。　As　she　went　up　the　steps；　three　at　a　bound；　she　saw　Suellen　and　Carreen　with　split…oak　baskets　on　their　arms；　running　toward　the　pantry；　and　Pork　tugging　none　too　gently　at　Gerald’s　arm；　dragging　him　toward　the　back　porch。　Gerald　was　mumbling　querulously　and　pulling　away　like　a　child。
　From　the　back　yard　she　heard　Mammy’s　strident　voice：　“You；　Priss！　You　git　unner　dat　house　an’　han’　me　dem　shoats！　You　knows　mighty　well　Ah’s　too　big　ter　crawl　thoo　dem　lattices。　Dilcey；　comyere　an’　mek　dis　wuthless　chile—”
　“And　I　thought　it　was　such　a　good　idea　to　keep　the　pigs　under　the　house；　so　nobody　could　steal　them；”　thought　Scarlett；　running　into　her　room。　“Why；　oh；　why　didn’t　I　build　a　pen　for　them　down　in　the　swamp？”
　She　tore　open　her　top　bureau　drawer　and　scratched　about　in　the　clothing　until　the　Yankee’s　wallet　was　in　her　hand。　Hastily　she　picked　up　the　solitaire　ring　and　the　diamond　earbobs　from　where　she　had　hidden　them　in　her　sewing　basket　and　shoved　them　into　the　wallet。　But　where　to　hide　it？　In　the　mattress？　Up　the　chimney？　Throw　it　in　the　well？　Put　it　in　her　bosom？　No；　never　there！　The　outlines　of　the　wallet　might　show　through　her　basque　and　if　the　Yankees　saw　it　they　would　strip　her　naked　and　search　her。
　“I　shall　die　if　they　do！”　she　thought　wildly。
　Downstairs　there　was　a　pandemonium　of　racing　feet　and　sobbing　voices。　Even　in　her　frenzy；　Scarlett　wished　she　had　Melanie　with　her；　Melly　with　her　quiet　voice；　Melly　who　was　so　brave　the　day　she　shot　the　Yankee。　Melly　was　worth　three　of　the　others。　Melly—what　had　Melly　said？　Oh；　yes；　the　baby！
　Clutching　the　wallet　to　her；　Scarlett　ran　across　the　hall　to　the　room　where　little　Beau　was　sleeping　in　the　low　cradle。　She　snatched　him　up　into　her　arms　and　he　awoke；　waving　small　fists　and　slobbering　sleepily。
　She　heard　Suellen　crying：　“Come　on；　Carreen！　Come　on！　We’ve　got　enough。　Oh；　Sister；　hurry！”　There　were　wild　squealings；　indignant　gruntings　in　the　back　yard　and；　running　to　the　window；　Scarlett　saw　Mammy　waddling　hurriedly　across　the　cotton　field　with　a　struggling　young　pig　under　each　arm。　Behind　her　was　Pork　also　carrying　two　pigs　and　pushing　Gerald　before　him。　Gerald　was　stumping　across　the　furrows；　waving　his　cane。
　Leaning　out　of　the　window　Scarlett　yelled：　“Get　the　sow；　Dilcey！　Make　Prissy　drive　her　out　You　can　chase　her　across　the　fields！”
　Dilcey　looked　up；