Scarlett paused.It did not seem possible that war had swept over them twice,that they were living in a ravaged country,close to the border of starvation,when this old sweet Christmas hymn was being sung.Abruptly she turned to Frank.
“What did you mean when you said it looked like the end of the world to you?”
“I'll talk frankly,”he said slowly,“but I wouldn't want you to be alarming the other ladies with what I say.The war can't go on much longer.There aren't any fresh men to fill the ranks and the desertions are running high—higher than the army likes to admit.You see,the men can't stand to be away from their families when they know they're starving,so they go home to try to provide for them.I can't blame them but it weakens the army.And the army can't fight without food and there isn't any food.I know because,you see,getting food is my business.I've been all up and down this section since we retook Atlanta and there isn't enough to feed a jaybird.It's the same way for three hundred miles south to Savannah.The folks are starving and the railroads are torn up and there aren't any new rifles and the ammunition is giving out and there's no leather at all for shoes....So,you see,the end is almost here.”
But the fading hopes of the Confederacy weighed less heavily on Scarlett than his remark about the scarcity of food.It had been her intention to send Pork out with the horse and wagon,the gold pieces and the United States money to scour the countryside for provisions and material for clothes.But if what Frank said was true—
But Macon hadn't fallen.There must be food in Macon.Just as soon as the commissary department was safely on its way,she'd start Pork for Macon and take the chance of having the precious horse picked up by the army.She'd have to risk it.
“Well,let's don't talk about unpleasant things tonight,Mr.Kennedy,”she said.“You go and sit in Mother's little office and I'll send Suellen to you so you can—well,so you'll have a little privacy.”
Blushing,smiling,Frank slipped out of the room and Scarlett watched him go.
“What a pity he can't marry her now,”she thought.“That would be one less mouth to feed.”
Chapter 29
The following April General Johnston,who had been given back the shattered remnants of his old command,surrendered them in North Carolina and the war was over.But not until two weeks later did the news reach Tara.There was too much to do at Tara for anyone to waste time traveling abroad and hearing gossip and,as the neighbors were just as busy as they,there was little visiting and news spread slowly.
Spring plowing was at its height and the cotton and garden seed Pork had brought from Macon were being put into the ground.Pork had been almost worthless since the trip,so proud was he of returning safely with his wagon-load of dress goods,seed,fowls,hams,side meat and meal.Over and over,he told the story of his many narrow escapes,of the bypaths and country lanes he had taken on his return to Tara,the unfrequented roads,the old trails,the bridle paths.He had been five weeks on the road,agonizing weeks for Scarlett.But she did not upbraid him on his return,for she was happy that he had made the trip successfully and pleased that he brought back so much of the money she had given him.She had a shrewd suspicion that the reason he had so much money left over was that he had not bought the fowls or most of the food.Pork would have taken shame to himself had he spent her money when there were unguarded hen coops along the road and smokehouses handy.
Now that they had a little food,everyone at Tara was busy trying to restore some semblance of naturalness to life.There was work for every pair of hands,too much work,never-ending work.The withered stalks of last year's cotton had to be removed to make way for this year's seeds and the balky horse,unaccustomed to the plow,dragged unwillingly through the fields.Weeds had to be pulled from the garden and the seeds planted,firewood had to be cut,a beginning had to be made toward replacing the pens and the miles and miles of fences so casually burned by the Yankees.The snares Pork set for rabbits had to be visited twice a day and the fishlines in the river rebaited.There were beds to be made and floors to be swept,food to be cooked and dishes washed,hogs and chickens to be fed and eggs gathered.The cow had to be milked and pastured near the swamp and someone had to watch her all day for fear the Yankees or Frank Kennedy's men would return and take her.Even little Wade had his duties.Every morning he went out importantly with a basket to pick up twigs and chips to start the fires with.
It was the Fontaine boys,the first of the County men home from the war,who brought the news of the surrender.Alex,who still had boots,was walking and Tony,barefooted,was riding on the bare back of a mule.Tony always managed to get the best of things in that family.They were swarthier than ever from four years'exposure to sun and storm,thinner,more wiry,and the wild black beards they brought back from the war made them seem like strangers.
On their way to Mimosa and eager for home,they only stopped a moment at Tara to kiss the girls and give them news of the surrender.It was all over,they said,all finished,and they did not seem to care much or want to talk about it.All they wanted to know was whether Mimosa had been burned.On the way south from Atlanta,they had passed chimney after chimney where the homes of friends had stood and it seemed almost too much to hope that their own house had been spared.They sighed with relief at the welcome news and laughed,slapping their thighs when Scarlett told them of Sally's wild ride and how neatly she had cleared their hedge.
“She's a spunky girl,”said Tony,“and it's rotten luck for her,Joe getting killed.You all got any chewing tobacco,Scarlett?”
“Nothing but rabbit tobacco.Pa smokes it in a corn cob.”
“I haven't fallen that low yet,”said Tony,“but I'll probably come to it.”
