Bad Hugh - Page 253/277

Hugh and Rocket! They had been in many battles, and neither shot nor

shell had harmed them until to-day, when Hugh had received the charge

which sent him reeling from his horse, breaking his arm in the field,

and scarcely conscious that two of his comrades were leading him from

the field. How or by what means he afterward reached the woods, he did

not know, but reach them he had, and unable to travel farther, he had

fallen to the ground, where he lay, until Rocket came galloping near,

riderless, frightened, and looking for his master. With a cry of joy

the noble brute answered that master's faint whistle, bounding at once

to his side, and by many mute but meaning signs, signifying his desire

that Hugh should mount as heretofore.

But Hugh was too weak for that, and after several ineffectual efforts to

rise, fell back half fainting on the turf; while Rocket took his stand

directly over him, a powerful and efficient guard until help from some

quarter should arrive. Patiently, faithfully he stood, waiting as

quietly as if he knew that aid was coming, not far away, in the form of

an old man, whose hair was white as snow, and whose steps were feeble

with age, but who had the advantage of knowing every inch of that

ground, for he had trodden it many a time, with a homesick heart which

pined for "old Kentuck," whence he had been stolen.

Uncle Sam! He it was whose uncertain steps made Rocket prick up his ears

and listen, neighing at last a neigh of welcome, by which he, too, was

recognized.

"De dear Father be praised if that be'nt Rocket hisself. I've found him,

I've found my Massah Hugh. I tole Miss Ellis I should, 'case I knows all

de way. Dear Massuh Hugh, I'se Sam, I is," and with a convulsive sob the

old negro knelt beside the white-faced man, who but for this timely aid

could hardly have survived that fearful night.