The Mockingbird's Ballad

"O.K., O.K., Lieutenant, bring them around in about an hour and we'll see what we can do with them," Stevenson responded more attentively.

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"Fields is it? Twins from Sequatchie Valley Lieutenant Muskgrove says?" Major Stevenson began the session leaning forward on a campstool carefully whittling a long, smooth thick piece of cedar. The shavings were piled several inches high between his worn cavalry boots.

"Yes, Sir," Alex, standing nervously in front of the unkempt questioner, responded respectfully, but firmly. "We came a lot of miles with our cousin Corporal John Mayberry hoping you'd take us. We want to help, Sir."

"Crittenden's raiders visited y'all's place and did some murdering, did they?"

"Yes, Sir, they truly did," Alex's voice broke as did his steadiness. The major noticed Alex's struggle.

"There son, I see, we'll see you get a chance to make things right. You the farrier or bugler?"

"Bugler," Alex said thankful that the subject of his father and brother's killings was past. He nervously continued, "Well sir, bugler, sort of. Well Sir, I'd like to take a crack at it." He patted his calling horn slung over his left shoulder and resting on his right hip. Major Stevenson looked up from his carving and took in the speckled brown, gray large bovine horn and smiled up at the boy's pink face. Alex fumbled his horn with his right hand and with his left drew it to his mouth, blowing loud, clear long notes into the sky.

Braying mules and whining horses created a real racket from the corrals around the camp. Heads all around turned towards the source of the intrusive sound. Several men jumped up from where they sat or lay confused as to whether it was a call to attention or alarm. Slowly the troopers who were nearest the "bugler" offered chuckles and then laughter echoed from all directions. The Major and 2nd Lieutenant were looking at Alex, shocked, dumbfounded. The laughter chorus turned Alex's face bright red, his moist eyes turned down to the toes of his brogans.

"Great day in the mornin'!! What the dickens are you doing boy?" a voice from behind Alex carried clearly over the laughter. The question closed Alex's throat and his eyes made tears. Major Stevenson had stood to attention, stick dropped on the shavings, knife closed and into his pocket. 2nd Lieutenant Muskgrove had stretched as tall as he could and coughed nervously. A short, dignified, dark-bearded officer in a big black slouch hat, gold trimmed medium blue/gray jacket, and lighter gray trousers stuffed in freshly polished cavalry boots walked to Major Stevenson's right side facing Alex. His countenance was of concern and confusion. His eyes were bright and directed into Alex's soul.