The Mockingbird's Ballad

Lou accompanied the general and his staff November 23 - 26 on the hasty return from Knoxville to Bragg's army near Chattanooga. The general had wanted Lou and a pack mule with some farrier equipment in case the mounts and remounts needed attention. Bragg needed the general to urgently report to him just south of Chattanooga. So off they sent lickety-split, the General, staff and escort with farrier rushing south from Kingston to North Georgia.

By dark the sixteen staff and escort group plus Lou on Bess were some distance down in southeast Tennessee on the way to north Georgia. Crossing the mountain passes was slow. The general kept them in the saddle some four hours after sundown. He halted his caravan near a secluded creek. Two privates built a campfire and cooked up some coffee and corn bread. The general kept his own special corn bread mix in a handsome well-finished canvas pouch Miss Daniella had made for him when she asked what she could send with him to ease his work. With fresh water, a skillet and a bit of fatback, he enjoyed hoecakes whenever "dining" was difficult.

"Private, see to the mounts," the general said to Lou as the camp took shape.

"Yes, Sir," she replied. Dismounting Bess, she bent over and touched her toes freeing up her cramping. Her bottom and low back hurt. Tending the chores, she mused about the exchange when Major Stevenson had ordered her to rest back at Kingston. They'd been hot at it and the mounts needing attention had overrun the farrier section. The other farriers and even Sergeant Maddox had worked 16 hours straight. The major had ordered Lou to rest and told Sergeant Maddox to lighten up on the "kid" and stop letting Lou do Maddox's work.

The major had said to Lou with a weak sternness and twinkle in his eye," Youngun, there's always plenty of work, so don't kill yourself trying to finish. We ain't going to ever be finished. Pace yourself, boy!"

What was it about those words? They were no different than the ones J. N., Alex or her father would say to her. But the feeling, her feeling, in reaction was most curious. She was not able to figure out her feelings of anger and appreciation. The major's attention preoccupied her mind as she went about tending the mounts and remounts. The major bothered her.

Lou approached the general as he sat on the exposed root of a big, snarled chestnut oak. "Excuse me, General," she quietly said, some eight feet in front of him. A good fire crackled and a blackened coffeepot sat on burning hickory branches.