CHAPTER XIX.

FEDERAL STAMPEDE

When fairly within gun shot I gave the word and we fired; four of them fell dead, and one fellow, badly wounded, broke down the hill calling loudly on the name of the Lord. Our rifles were quickly reloaded and we followed cautiously after them in the direction of our friend‘s house where we came so near being taken in; on gaining the edge of the woods we discovered them sitting on their horses, near the house from which we had escaped. They seemed to be holding a council of war; one of them who had on shoulder-straps, appeared to be making a speech. The distance being about one hundred and fifty yards some of my men objected to shooting, but I answered by giving the word slowly, “ready,—aim,—fire!” At the discharge of our rifles, four of them fell, and the gentleman with shoulder-straps was helped from his horse. At this juncture, they began to form themselves into about twenty different lines, with only one abreast, each man being in advance, and each one bringing up his own rear. It was a novel military position, a kind of “nix cum rous,” but it worked well and in almost an instant they seemed to be spirited away, and we saw no more of them.

We made our way down Black river about two miles and camped for the night, and the next morning about sunrise I went to the house of a friend, who lived back in the woods to obtain provisions for my men. He told me that the Federals had left for Greenville immediately after our second round at them, and had given orders to some citizens to bury their dead, and on the following day to send the horses to Patterson, which they left in their care, and which included those they had captured from us; at which place they would meet them with a large force and proceed to exterminate the Bushwhackers.

I obtained what provisions we wanted and hastened back to camp. After eating we hurried over to the Patterson road, selected a good position, and waited impatiently for the men to come along with the horses. About ten o‘clock in the forenoon an old man about sixty years of age, and three little boys came slowly along with them. After they had approached sufficiently near, we stepped out and I addressed the old man in a very friendly manner, and stated our business, at which he made some serious objections, remarking as he removed his old cobpipe, that it was rather against his orders, “to deliver the horses up to Sam Hildebrand.” As the old man gave the horses up, I could easily perceive a smile of secret satisfaction lurking about his face. The little boys, however, were badly scared, and seemed to realize the fact that Sam Hildebrand had them. We took possession of the horses, fourteen innumber, and according to previous arrangements, five of the boys struck for Green county, Arkansas, with them, while one of them stayed with me, on foot, for the purpose of killing the German who had betrayed us, and thus came so near having us taken in, and who had caused one of the bravest men in the Southern Confederacy, to be killed. After sending the old man and the boys away I took leave of my men, and with my comrade repaired to a neighboring hill, rested and slept by turns, until near sunset.

From the position we occupied I had a fair view of the surrounding country, and particularly the main road leading to Patterson. But during the day all was quiet, save when a citizen would occasionally pass along the road.

As night approached we became restless from inaction, and before the sun had shed its last rays upon the neighboring hills we were on our way to the scene of our tragedy the day before.

Arriving there before it was entirely dark we took our position in the fence corner near the house, and here we lay in silent impatience until the gray horizon warned us that our watch for the present was ended. We quietly retired to the house of a friend for our breakfast, not having eaten anything except a piece of corn bread since the morning before. Having partaken heartily of our friend‘s rough but substantial fare, we again repaired to the house of our treacherous German enemy, having sworn in our wrath to take his life before leaving the country,and succeeded in gaining a position within one hundred yards of his house and directly in front of the door. Here we remained all day, during which time the family seemed to be discharging their domestic duties very cheerfully. About four o‘clock in the afternoon two strange men rode up to the house and held a conversation with the lady for several minutes and then rode off in the direction they came, this gave us some hope that the Dutchman would soon be at home. It was evident that as he had left with the Federals the day before in their retreat, and in great haste, that he had made no arrangements for a long absence; and it was more than probable that those two men only came to see whether or not the way was clear. We felt indeed that our most sanguine expectations were soon to be realized; but the hour passed slowly on; we changed our position after dark to a place in the fence corner, near the woodpile, and here we remained until the night was half spent. Then we were made glad by the sound of horses‘ feet coming from the direction of Patterson; as the sound came nearer we could easily perceive that the noise was made by only one horse.

Advancing slowly, the Dutchman approached the house, alighted at the woodpile and tied his horse to the end of one of the limbs within a few feet of us. Just then we arose and demanded his surrender. The old fellow was very badly alarmed and called alternately on the Almighty and Mr. Hildebrand for mercy; but I gave him to understand that it wasuseless for him to beg for mercy; that he was a prisoner and that we expected to take him to headquarters as a prisoner of war. His wife came out to the fence immediately on his arrival, and it was her presence alone that prevented us from shooting him on the ground.

I guarded him while my comrade went to the stable to look for another horse; but finding nothing there but an old mule, he came back leading it with a blind bridle.

I requested the lady to loan me a saddle, and she soon returned with her own side saddle, and remarked that it was the only saddle on the place. I told her I could not rob a lady; to keep the saddle, and that I was sorry from my heart to be compelled to give her uneasiness or trouble; that war had no mercy, and that through it all I hoped that she would be protected from harm.

We tied the old man‘s hands behind him, and then tied him on the mule without any saddle; at which the mule humped up his back, gave us a specimen of mule melody on a base note that re-echoed among the hills, and then became more quiet. We started on leading the horse and mule, but we had to stop several times to let the mule finish braying, for he would not budge an inch until he got entirely through. We went about a mile and then proceeded to hang the Dutchman. He spoke only once and then the mule chimed in, and before he had finished, the Dutchman was swinging to a limb. To render his duplicity still more apparent, it should be bornein mind that he was now completely dressed in Federal uniform, having probably enlisted during his absence. Previous to the hanging, we had taken from him his pocket book and a revolver.

We now mounted the horse and mule, and went on about two miles, stopped at the house of a friend and called for something to eat. Our friend, on hearing what had taken place, plead manfully for the lady whom we had so lately made a widow, stating that she was a good woman, recounted many good deeds she had performed, and finished by adding that she would now be entirely dependent on the charity of the community for support, and insisted on us having the horse and mule sent back.

We readily consented to this, and told him also that we would much rather she had the pocket book also, for on counting the money we found that it contained forty dollars.

No one could deliver the mule, horse and money to her without being considered in some measure implicated. Finally it was agreed for our friend to take the horse and mule back while it was yet night; to leave them near the premises and to throw the pocket book over the gate into the yard. All things being arranged we started on foot for our homes in Arkansas, and arrived there safely.

Took eight men.—Attacked a Federal camp near Bollinger‘s Mill at night.—Lost two men killed and one wounded.—His men return to Arkansas.—He went alone to St. Francis county.—Watched the farm of R. M. Cole to kill him.—Was checked by conscience.

I remained two weeks at home plowing, and then went on a scout to the vicinity of Mingo Swamp with eight men. We watched around for several days to capture some infamous scamps in that country who had been giving our friends trouble from the beginning of the war. Being too cowardly to go into the army, they were staying at home and were constantly annoying peaceable citizens by making false reports against them of every kind.

Having failed to get any of them, we concluded to make another trip over onto Castor Creek, for my men were always anxious to go to parts of the country frequented by the Federals. We had been on Castor but one day and night when a party of Federals came along, making their way through the country, and camping within a short distance of Bollinger‘s Mill. We were quietly enjoying ourselves in the nook of rocky range of brushy hills when a runner came to inform us of the fact. Of the exact number of the Federals he did not know.

It was with some difficulty that I restrained mymen to wait until a proper hour of the night before making the attack, but finally about ten o‘clock I gave the word to get ready, which was done in a very few minutes. Going around the hills we struck the main road about a mile from their camp. We rode very slowly until we routed the pickets, then dashed on and crowded them into camp; but the locality of their camp and the position in which they had taken up quarters, had not been stated to us correctly; consequently we came out somewhat worsted.

They had chosen a narrow place in the road, and had turned their wagons across it, so that in our attempt to dash through their camp, as was our custom, we found our progress suddenly stopped; this bothered us so badly that they opened a heavy fire on us, killing two of my men and wounding another slightly before we had time to retreat. We were not certain of having killed any of them, but were afterwards told by a citizen that we wounded three, one of whom died next morning. After this unfortunate mistake my remaining men wanted to go back to Green county, Arkansas, where our wounded companions could be properly cared for; to which I consented, and bidding them adieu I started alone to St. Francois county, Missouri.

I now thought this a favorable opportunity to take vengeance upon R. M. Cole for the course he had taken at the time my brother Frank was hung by the Big river mob. That matter had never yet been redressed, and my mind was yet harrassed by conflictingimpressions concerning his guilt or innocence in the matter. That he was a Southern man I very well knew, but that it was his duty, as a civil officer, to wrest my brother from the clutches of a merciless mob I knew equally well. I will here remark that all my evil impressions concerning his complicity in the hanging of my brother have long since been entirely removed from my mind; but at time of which I am now writing, I finally adopted the unwelcome conclusion that he was evidently guilty. I escaped the vigilance of my enemies, and of the hundreds of soldiers whose especial duty it was to watch out for me; and unobserved by any one who would be likely to inform against me, I succeeded in reaching his farm, on Flat river, and found to my joy that he had not yet finished plowing. I went around to the back part of the farm, hitched old Charley to a sapling in the woods, and taking old “Kill-devil” in my hand, I cautiously approached the cornfield where I had seen him plowing from a distance, and about sunset I secreted myself in a fence corner about ten rows from where he had plowed the last furrow. I waited until I became satisfied that he had stopped for the night. It was now about dark.

I went back to where I had hitched my horse, unsaddled him and went in search of feed. I soon found an abundance of oats already cut in the field. On my way back I chanced to cross a splendid melon patch; on the ripe melons I made out my supper, feeling thankful for my good luck so far.

My only chance now was to wait until morning, which I did, making myself as comfortable as possible during the night.

In the morning I took my station again in the fence corner with old “Kill-devil” already cocked. After a long delay, as I thought it, he made his appearance, following along behind the plow and singing most merrily. I was a little flustrated by his merry mood, and a strange weakness kept me from firing. I thought I would let him plow one more round. How I chuckled to myself as he walked deliberately away from me as if nothing was about to go wrong with him. He came around again as merrily as before. I once more raised old “Kill-devil” to my face and was in the act of pulling the trigger, when I heard a stick crack in the woods just as he was turning. This and some other imaginary noises caused me to delay until he was too far off to make a sure shot. Here was a good chance lost. This I thought would never do, for I was now becoming quite nervous; I bit my fingers as I usually do to stop what hunters call the “buck ague,” but it seemed to do me no good.

The more I thought of the matter, the more nervous I got, and I must acknowledge that I never felt that way before when I was in a just cause, and a thought struck me that there might be something wrong in this matter after all. I knew that it would never do to remain squatting in the fence corner any longer; that I must either shoot or leave.

Can it be possible that he is innocent of the chargebrought against him by my friends, and that my suspicions are groundless?

It may be so! I began to think about letting the man live; but the thought of riding several hundred miles for the express purpose of killing a man, and then to go back without doing it, after having had such a good chance, was a thought that I did not like.

While these thoughts were revolving in my mind I still set as quietly as a mouse. Once I would have got up and left, but the man was now making his third round, and was too close for me to do so without being seen. I deliberately raised my gun and took a bead on him to make my decision while he was completely in my power—“live on, sir! live on!” was my decision, and as soon as he turned I hastily left for fear of being tempted again. I mounted my horse, and as soon as I thought he was out of sight among the corn I rode away, and never before in my life did I feel so happy as I did when I passed opposite the row he was in. I bade him a silent farewell, and mentally told him to rest easy, for that he never should be hurt by my hand.

On my homeward trip I stopped in the vicinity of Bloomfield (which was still in the hands of the Federals) in order to pay my respects to Captain Hicks. He was the commander of the company which followed me and my family to the St. Francis river; and boasted that he was the man who shot me at the Flat Woods. Not being disposed to rob him of his honors, I was willing to admit thathe did the act, and to govern myself accordingly.

I lay around his residence four days and nights, getting my provisions out of his smoke-house, before he made his appearance.

On the evening of the fourth day he rode up to his house, and in a few minutes walked out with his wife into the garden.

I walked up to the garden fence and spoke to him; he seemed agitated and started toward the house; I raised my gun, halted him, and told him to come to me as I wanted to talk a little to him. He halted and with some reluctance walked toward me, and on getting within a few paces he asked me who I was. I told him that I was Sam Hildebrand; that I understood he had been hunting for me for some time, and I thought I would come by and see what he wanted. At this he made a lick at me with a hoe which he held in his hand, and came very near hitting me; but in a moment I ended his existence by shooting him. I eluded all search and effected my escape to Arkansas.

Trip to Hamburg with fifteen men.—Hung a Dutchman and shot another.—Attacked some Federals in Hamburg, but got gloriously whipped.—Retreated to Coon Island.—Return to St. Francis river.—Killed Oller at Flat Woods.—Robbed Bean‘s store at Irondale.

About the middle of August, 1863, at the solicitation of two brave boys who had kindly assisted me on several trips to St. Francois county, and expected my assistance in return, I started to a small place called Hamburg, with fifteen men under my command.

We wished to take in three or four Dutchmen who had given the relatives of my two men a great deal of trouble, causing them to be robbed, and in some instances imprisoned.

We crossed into Butler county, and then into Stoddard; passing south and east of Bloomfield, we crossed Little river above Buffington, and entered Scott county. By traveling altogether in the night we created no disturbance until we got near the point to which we were aiming.

About ten o‘clock in the forenoon we rode up and surrounded the house of one of the men whom we were after. He recognized us as Union soldiers and came out without being called. He commenced addressing us in Dutch, but I told him that we did notbelong to that persuasion; he then began speaking broken English and still advanced toward us. When in the act of extending his hand toward one of my men who was nearest to him, he suddenly discovered his unfortunate mistake, and called to his wife who was yet in the house. The whole family came out, placed themselves in a group near us and implored us in broken English to spare their father. To the bottom of my heart I cursed the man who first invented war; but as war on one side and mercy on the other would only lead to death, we marched our Dutchman off about a mile and hung him to a leaning tree. About one hour afterwards we came to the house of another of those cunning informers; he broke out at a back door and ran so fast that we all had to fire before we brought him down.

We now pushed on to get a couple more who lived at Hamburg, but on entering the place we were met by a volley of musket shots which made our ears ring. One of my men was killed on the spot, at which we charged the enemy, seeing that their numbers were only about twelve. They took refuge behind an old dilapidated frame house; and while I placed some of my men in positions to command both ends of the building, others marched up to the front of the house and set it on fire.

By this time the shooting had attracted the attention of other Federals in the vicinity, who came to the rescue, and before we were aware of their presence we were nearly surrounded. We made a dash to clear their lines, and in the attempt four of mymen were badly wounded, but none of them killed.

I began to think that I had met with more than our match, for as we retreated they followed us in a solid phalanx. Our horses were put to the utmost of their speed, our wounded were left behind, the chase after us was gloriously exciting; we probably gained a little after we had gone about two miles, but they did not by any means give up the chase, for we were not allowed to enjoy anything that had the least resemblance to peace and tranquility, until we had gained Little river and swam across to Coon Island. We lost nearly everything we had except our horses and they were badly injured; some of my men lost their guns, and others lost every bit of fight that they formerly had in them. The Federals made no attempt to cross the river, but left us to brood over the sad result of our rash and inconsiderate adventure. The whole matter looked to me a great deal like a defeat, and I must confess that I viewed it rather in that light; but if it had been the Army of the Potomac they would have called it “a strategic movement—merely a change of base.”

We lost one man killed and four wounded, prisoners whom we supposed would be shot. In justice to General Steele, however, I can proudly say that in this case he did us more than justice by retaining our men as prisoners of war and treating them well. Their wounds were healed, and in three months they were exchanged and returned to our Green County Confederacy.

On leaving Coon Island we struck the St. Francisriver at Twelve Mile creek, and remained there several days recruiting our horses. Not wishing to be idle, I concluded that while my men and horses were resting, I would take a trip on foot to Flat Woods and pay my respects to George F. Oller, who was so intent on bushwhacking me that he spent most of his time in the woods watching for my appearance on my accustomed routes.

Aside from his many boisterous threats against me he was in the habit of marking out “Old Sam,” as he called me, on trees and shooting at the figure at various distances. His vindictive spirit was not manifested against me alone, but even against the children of Southern sympathizers. At one time he went to St. Francis river where some Southern boys were in the habit of bathing, and at the high rock from which they were fond of plunging, he drove some cedar stakes and sharpened the upper ends which were just under the water.

Fortunately when the boys next went there to bathe the water had fallen a few inches, and the ends of the stakes exposed so that the boys discovered them before making the fatal leap. Oller of course did all this for the patriotic motive of subjugating the South; but the result was that the little boys were saved and the country lost.

On arriving in the neighborhood I learned from a very kind German lady whom I happened to meet and who mistook me for a Federal, that the hunt for me was still going on.

I learned also that Oller‘s zeal for the good of theUnion cause was not in the least abated by his many failures to hit my figure which he had cut on a large oak near his house, nor by his failure to kill the innocent children whom he was afraid would be Rebels at some future time.

At night I went and inspected his premises, and before daylight I took my position; but the day passed off and he did not make his appearance. When night came I repaired to the house of a friend, obtained two days‘ rations, returned to my ambush, and slept until the first peep of day. I was again doomed to disappointment; but on the third day, late in the evening, as I lay brooding over the many failures I had made to inflict justice upon those who were seeking my blood, Mr. Oller made his appearance.

He walked slowly up to the premises with his gun on his shoulders. On getting to a pig pen he got over the fence and commenced marking a pig. I shot him through and hastily left the place; on gaining the top of a small hill a few hundred yards off, I heard the pig squealing, for Mr. Oller had fallen across it, and it was not able to extricate itself from the trap.

On getting back to my men I selected five of them to go with me, and permitted the rest to return to Arkansas.

As soon as it was dark I started with my five men for Irondale, on the St. Louis and Iron Mountain railroad.

Just after dark on one evening in the early partof September, we entered the town. We saw no soldiers in the streets, and no one else, except Dr. Poston, a citizen of the place. We compelled him to knock at the door of Bean‘s store and ask for admittance; when this was done we entered without any trouble, took all the goods we could conveniently pack, and returned to Arkansas by the way of Black river.

Started with six men for Springfield, Missouri.—Deceived by a Federal Spy.—Was captured through mistake by Rebels.—Surprised on Panther creek.—Returned home on foot.

I was under obligations to assist some of my boys in a trip to the neighborhood from which they had been driven, in return for their services on several of my trips.

About the middle of September, after having only rested about a week, I started with six men from near Springfield, Missouri, to make a raid in the vicinity of that city. Not being acquainted with the country over which we designed traveling, I had but little to say in regard to the programme of our intended raid. After our plans were arranged, we started, taking with us “neither purse nor scrip,” for we intended to rely altogether on our good fortune for our supplies.

From Green county, Ark., we traveled through Randolph and entered Missouri in Ripley county. Here we were detained, for one of my men had the misfortune to lose his horse. Having reached a part of the country known as the Irish Wilderness, we concluded to rest a day and hunt.

In the evening before we struck camp, a young man, dressed in citizen‘s clothes, who claimed to be going to the Rebel army, joined us, and asked permissionto stop with us until morning. He professed to be going to Arkansas, and we readily consented to entertain him as best we could.

After the confusion incident to striking camp, making fires, attending to our horses, etc., was over, our new companion began a series of interrogatories relative to the part of country through which we had operated, since the beginning of the war. After having posted him thoroughly in regard to the field of our operations, we related to him many thrilling incidents and daring adventures connected with our history; to all of which he listened with intense interest, and at the amusing parts of our story he laughed most heartily. After we grew tired of relating our many dangerous feats and bloody deeds, he began his narrative of hair breadth escapes and heroic adventures. The field of his operations having been Kentucky, we were very pleasantly entertained by receiving the full accounts of several incidents of which we had heard some rumors.

We had scarcely marked the transition from twilight to Egyptian darkness, so much were we pleased with our new companion‘s pleasant stories, when one of my men remarked that “the last hour of the day was melting away into the eventful past.” Our programme for the day following had been made by our new comrade, and heartily approved by us all, that we would take an old fashioned deer hunt, among the wild hills surrounding us.

Our quiet slumbers were scarcely disturbed even by the intermission of rolling over, until “Old Sol”was looking us fair in the face, as if to read the guilt of our hearts.

Upon awakening, one word loudly spoken, was sufficient to bring the whole squad to a half recumbent position; and as we went through the antiquated performance of rubbing our eyes, the attention of each one seemed to be turned to the spot where our new comrade had deposited himself for a sleep a few hours before. He was gone! The fragment of an old log, that had served him as a pillow, was all that was left of him or his bed. But this was not all;—one of our best horses was gone! We cared but little for the horse, so far as his real value was concerned, for we had some experience in “raising horses,” and knew that we could get another on very easy terms, but we did not like the idea of having been gulled by a young adventurous loyalist, in the face of the fact, too, that we considered ourselves “shark proof.”

Neither were we certain that our misfortunes would end here, for our “sharper” had succeeded in getting our plans for the entire trip.

During the preparation of our morning meal, the subject of our misfortune was freely discussed, with many conjectures in regard to who our deceiver was, and the probable result of his acquired information.

A majority of the men were in favor of continuing our journey, while only one man joined me in opposing any further movement in the direction of Springfield.

However, as it was not my own trip, I did not feel at liberty to say much about it; not wishing to appear obstinate, I contented myself with making them a “humbug” speech, for I must confess that the recollection of our unfortunate adventure at that place, seemed as though it would haunt me to the grave. All my arguments, however, did no good, they would not be convinced against their own will; so I submitted cheerfully to the good old democratic rule of going with the majority.

During the day, myself and two others, rode over to the edge of the settlements to get a horse for our pedestrian “bushwhacker,” and succeeded in finding one; but the owner was a noted Rebel; our only way to sustain ourselves in the act was to pass ourselves off for Union soldiers, this we did with a very good grace and got the horse without any resistance. In fact, he made but little objection, for he knew that the “Union savers” were terrible when irritated.

After going back two or three miles toward our camp in the Wilderness, I saw some deer on the side of an adjoining hill, and fearing that the boys in camp had failed to kill meat for our supper, selected a nice buck and shot him dead on the spot.

After having dressed the meat preparatory to carrying it into camp, we concluded to build a fire and broil some of it for our dinner. While we were thus busily engaged, all squatted around the fire, we were suddenly saluted by a remarkably boisterous mandate of “surrender!” at which we sprang to our feet with our revolvers in our hands to find ourselvesconfronted by five of Capt. Bolin‘s men, who had left Green county, Arkansas, a few days before us, and were on a visit to see some friends in the neighborhood, from one of whom we had taken the horse. We had anything else rather than a fight, for we quickly recognized each other, and a general congratulation was the only military demonstration between us.

The five “bushwhackers” were concealed near the house of the old Rebel from whom we had taken the horse, and who had really regarded us as Federals. As soon as we had left his house, he reported us to Capt. Bolin‘s men, who took our trail and tracked us to the wild solitudes of the Irish Wilderness. We at once decided on changing our quarters. I sent my two comrades to the camp and had the boys to move over to the edge of the settlements. The old Rebel, from whom we had taken the horse, was our best friend; we gave it back to him, and got another in that neighborhood on the following night.

The reader, without making any very extravagant draw upon his imagination, can conclude that we had a jolly time when we all got together.

Our adventure with the sharper, my attempt to steal the old Rebel‘s horse, and our unconditional surrender in the Wilderness while broiling the venison, were the subjects discussed. From the boys, we learned something more of our adventurous Yankee detective. He had been in that neighborhood a week or two, repeating the same story thathe had told us. He evidently thought that the bushwhackers were rather thick in that neighborhood, and concluded to leave it as quick as possible.

On the following morning, our whole party, with myself, took up our march for Springfield, and in the evening of the same day we reached the vicinity of Thomasville, in Oregon county. We were warned against traveling in the day time, unless we were hunting for a fight; we assured our friends that a fight was the least of our desire at the present time, the object of our trip being solely for the purpose of enabling some of our boys to avenge certain wrongs received at the hands of Union men in Greene county, Missouri.

After making a tolerable heavy draw on some of our Rebel friends for provisions and horse-feed, we again resumed our journey, and the following morning found us in the woods, quartered for the day, near a small town in Howell county, called Lost Camp, where we remained all day.

A substantial old friend living near by, brought us two or three bottles of “burst-head,” which produced the effect of making some of the boys believe that they had fought a great battle, and that the United States Government had taken refuge in a deep cavern, the mouth of which they had stopped with a large flat rock, on top of which the boys were dancing. The only question with them seemed to be what they would do with their twenty millions of prisoners.

When sable night again clad the wicked world inhalf mourning, we resumed our journey, and on approach of day, we were in the beautiful little town of Vera Cruz, in Douglas county; on the next night we reached Panther creek, in Webster county. One of our men who professed to be acquainted in that neighborhood, went to a pretended Rebel friend to get supplies, but the old fellow flatly refused to give him anything. I was a little amused at the disappointment of the boys, and at the dilemma in which they were placed. I could not help thinking how different I would have acted on a raid of my own.

About ten o‘clock in the forenoon we were surprised by a party of Federal soldiers, numbering perhaps about sixty men. Before we were aware of their presence they charged upon us at a most furious rate, yelling and shooting at us most fearfully. A mere glance at the party was sufficient to convince me that an attempt at resistance would be worse than folly. I sprang to my feet, yelled out to the boys to run; but having no time to mount our horses, we had to depend upon our own fleetness for our escape. In our retreat through the dense forest, we had the advantage over our enemies; I and four others managed to keep together for about a mile; not seeing any pursuers, we took our position on a high hill, and remained there until late in the evening. While keeping a vigilant watch over the surrounding country, we discovered one of our men emerging cautiously from a dense thicket in the valley at the foot of the hill.

He seemed terribly frightened. I made my waydown the hill to within a hundred yards of him, and then called him by name; but it was some time before he recognized me. Fortunately for us, this man was acquainted with the country through which we would have to pass in making our way back to Arkansas. The tops of the highest hills were yet basking in the sun‘s last lingering rays, when we started on our perilous journey of two hundred miles on foot, without any blankets, provisions, or anything else, except our pistols and one gun, for I had made my escape with old “Kill-devil” in my hand. The next morning about daylight, we ran into a gang of sheep, succeeded in catching one, and made our way down into a deep ravine, where we could not be discovered. There we built a fire and fared sumptuously. We continued on during the night, and the next day I killed a deer. On the following night we reached our friend near Vera Cruz, and here we met another one of our boys, but he was no better posted in regard to the fate of our company than myself.

I will not weary the patience of my reader by detailing the many privations incident to our trip; suffice it to say that we did get back to Arkansas; and that fortunately for me I never received an invitation to take another trip to Springfield under the command of an unexperienced leather-head.

About a week after arriving in camp, another one of the boys came in, looking somewhat subjugated. I afterwards learned that two of our men were killed when we were routed, and that the otherswere taken prisoners, none of whom ever returned during the war.

I have cautioned the boys never again to imagine themselves dancing on the flat rock covering the prison door of the defunct Yankee nation, lest they might unexpectedly find some of them yet running at large.

Started with four men.—Surrounded in a thicket near Fredericktown.—Escaped with the loss of three horses.—Stole horses from the Federals at night.—Killed two Federal Soldiers.—Suffered from hunger.—Killed Fowler.—Got a horse from G. W. Murphy.—Went to Mingo Swamp.—Killed Coots for betraying him.—Killed a soldier and lost two men.

I selected four good men and started on another trip to St. Francois county, Missouri, on the 10th of November. We traveled altogether in the night; arriving in the vicinity of Fredericktown about midnight, we stopped at the house of a well-known friend, who expressed a great deal of surprise at seeing us there, stating that the cry of “Hildebrand,” had been raised in the community about ten days previous, and that the Federals, with the assistance of citizens, had been scouting the woods between that place and Farmington ever since. He was no little amused when we told him that the report was utterly false, and that we were on a scout out westward at the time.

The report of my having been in that part of the country ten days previous, I was satisfied would work favorably to the success of our present enterprise, for it was not probable that they would make another search so soon after having made one so thoroughly.

From there we went to a dense thicket near the residence of Mr. North, and being very tired and sleepy, we lay down, and slept very soundly until the morning sun was looking down upon our quiet retreat. Our old friend had supplied us with two days‘ rations and some shelled corn for our horses, so we had a complete outfit for a good rest.

Whilst lying lazily around our horses, planning the future of our trip, we were suddenly startled by the sound of a gun near by, which was evidently discharged at one of us. A moment, however, was sufficient to satisfy me in regard to the nature of the case; we had been spied out, our horses tracked up, and our thicket surrounded. At a bound I lit in my saddle and was soon out of the thicket in an opposite direction from where the gun was fired. On reaching the open ground, I discovered the Federals coming around the woods, not having yet completed their circle. They fired on me, but the distance was too great, and I remained unhurt. My men had not taken time to mount their horses, but as they followed me on foot, one of them received a bruise on his back from a spent ball. In a few minutes our complete escape was effected, with no damage but the loss of four good horses. The Federals followed us closely for about a mile, when we got far enough ahead to give them the dodge by turning at right angles into the St. Francis river bottom. We made our way back to within a mile of Fredericktown, where we remained the rest of the day. When night came we went in quest of our pursuers; wefound them camped in a lane about six miles northwest from Fredericktown.

Our object now was to get horses. We made our way on foot toward them, but found that the end of the lane was guarded; we went around to the other end and found it guarded also, while the horses were in the middle, tied to one of the fences. We then went around through the field, laying down the outside fence very carefully, and approached the lane fence on the opposite side from where the horses were tied. The night was very dark, but we could distinctly see a sentinel slowly walking his beat of about fifty yards, ourselves being at the end of the beat. When his back was turned, I laid the fence down easily; we sprang to a horse a piece, cut the halters, mounted, and were off at full speed before he turned on the other end of his beat.

Our hasty flight of course raised an alarm in the camp, but we saw no more of the Federals that night. Being again mounted, we resolved to give them employment for a few days in hunting us, and for that purpose we took up our quarters in a place least expected, by going within a mile of Fredericktown onto a certain eminence, after having made a circuit around the side of a hill.

On the following day we slept by turns; I killed a pig with my knife near the house of a farmer, and cooked it in a deep ravine where the fire could not be observed; during the previous night we had stolen a sufficiency of feed for our horses. I concluded to go into Fredericktown to get a supply ofammunition, which I did about ten o‘clock in the night, by meeting with an old friend there who bountifully supplied us with all we needed.

We moved seven or eight miles in the direction of Pilot Knob, supplying ourselves with horse-feed and provisions on the move.

When morning again made its appearance, I left my men in charge of the horses, and after instructing them where to meet me again in case of trouble, I went to the gravel road for the purpose of killing a Federal or two. I concealed myself near the road, and about 10 o‘clock in the day, two came along and I let old “Kill-devil” off at one of them. They wheeled suddenly around and started back in the direction of Pilot Knob; the one I shot was badly wounded and bled freely. Only an hour afterwards a squad of perhaps ten came from the direction of Fredericktown. It was a quandary in my mind whether it was best to take a pop at them or not, a feeling of revenge settled the matter. I fired, and one fell; at this they put their horses to full speed. Soon after they were out of sight, another came along in a very great hurry as if he was endeavoring to overtake the others; on coming up to the dead man he made a momentary halt, of which I took advantage and shot him through. I now concluded that I had done enough for the day, or enough, at least, to raise an excitement, so I went back to my men and we moved about twelve miles in the direction of Farmington, and near the St. Francis river on a high bluff, which afforded us peculiaradvantages in the event of a fight, where we were compelled to remain several days.

My comrade, who had received a bruise on the spine, had by this time become so disabled by that slight injury, that he could not ride. The little amusement that I had taken on the gravel road was now creating quite a stir in military circles, and their search for us was carried on with a zeal worthy of a better cause.

Having called out the forces at Pilot Knob, Fredericktown and Farmington, with a large majority of the citizens, the search was made thoroughly and in earnest. Squads frequently passed in sight of us, and within easy gun-shot, but none of them ascended the high bluff we occupied. On the evening of the third day our provisions and horse-feed gave out, and each night I went out in search of more. Obtaining provender for our horses was a very easy matter, but getting provisions for ourselves was not only very difficult but extremely dangerous. I knew but few men in the neighborhood, and on approaching their houses I invariably found our well-known signal of danger—a towel hung on a nail outside of the door. We could easily have killed a hog or a sheep, but we could not run the risk of making a fire to cook it. After our provisions gave entirely out, we were twenty-four hours without any food. During the second night I found some bacon in somebody‘s smoke-house, I knew not whether he was a friend or foe, and cared still less, but I took two hams to camp, which we ate raw.

On the sixth night our comrade was able to ride, and we moved about fifteen miles, stopping south of Fredericktown. Here a friend supplied us with the necessaries of life, and even brought food to our camp ready cooked for our use.

Our wounded companion, who was too much disabled to take any part in a raid, now obtained leave to return to Arkansas alone, while I and my other men started on a trip to St. Francois county.

While living at Flat Woods, I became acquainted with a man named John Fowler. He professed to be a strong Southern man, and having perfect confidence in his veracity, I entrusted him with many things in regard to my plans, that I withheld from the rest of my neighbors; but about the time that I was run off from there by the Federals, my friend Fowler joined the Union army.

On receiving this intelligence, I felt much mortified, and concluded at once that he had betrayed me, notwithstanding he sent me word on several occasions that I need not fear him. His duplicity, however, was so apparent that I determined to kill him on sight; this I had some hope of doing, as he seemed to enjoy some liberties, and often came into the neighborhood, but generally in company with other soldiers. On every visit he came to my house and conversed pleasantly with my wife, but I regarded him rather as a spy.

As we were traveling along on the present occasion, I run suddenly on him about five miles southwest from Fredericktown. We met in a narrowpath, and before he hardly had time to recognize me, I shot and killed him instantly.

I will here state that I had cause to regret this act afterwards, for I ascertained that he had deserted the Federals, and was on his way South to join the “bushwhacking department” of the Southern army.

After passing Fredericktown in the night, we learned that several companies of Federals, Home Guards and Militia, were hunting for me in every direction. In fact, we came near being discovered by several squads during the night. We hastened on into St. Francois county; Tom Haile and myself being in front, we took Farmington without firing a gun long before my other men came up. As we rode in the streets were full of people, but we only had time to take a second look when the place seemed to be entirely deserted. Not a man, woman or child could be found, at which Tom laughed heartily, and remarked that he thought cellar rent ought to be very high in that place. When my other men came up Tom told them that we had found a beautiful town not claimed by anybody, “just laying around loose,” and that he was very sorry we could not take it along with us until we found an owner. We did not haunt the town very long with our unholy presence, but after going into a grocery, where we had to help ourselves, we took a hearty drink of some good old liquor that had been left by the generation that once lived there; then mounting our horses we left the lonesomeplace. Tom remarked that as we had no wounded man to leave there to garrison the town we had better leave for the “settlements.” We went on to Big river to look after our old enemies; but their consciousness of having committed such a catalogue of crimes against me made them the hardest men in the world to find.

In our business of killing enemies, we met with good success everywhere but on Big river. Up to the time of the present writing, a majority of those miscreants, with hands dripping with the blood of my brothers, are yet permitted to live. For several days and nights we watched around the houses of my old enemies, but to no purpose; it was impossible to find them. One of my men made his way around through the neighborhood to ascertain their whereabouts, and reported that they were all from home except Franklin Murphy; but Tom Haile was determined that I should not kill him. He exacted a promise from me long ago that I never would molest him or any of his property. Haile was a man who wielded an influence over every one with whom he came in contact. He was ever in a perfect good humor; the clouds of adversity never seemed to throw a shadow on his brow; his heart was all sunshine, and his feet ever trod in the vales of mirth and gladness.

I plainly saw that so far as killing my old enemies was concerned my present trip was a failure. During all the incidents of my previous trips to Missouri, I never for once lost sight of that one leadingobject of my mind. The killing of Federals, in which I had taken such an active part, only afforded me pleasure by the reflection that they were a part and parcel of the same stripe, and in sympathy with the Big river vigilance mob.

I was now much in need of a good horse, and after talking the matter over with my men, Tom Haile and myself concluded to demand a good horse, bridle and saddle, from G. W. Murphy, a man whose nature it was to be quiet and inoffensive, and who had attended strictly to his own business during all the struggle.

He was abundantly able to assist us in the matter, and we considered that he ought to contribute that much toward the Southern cause. We were raised close together from boyhood, and I had nothing against him; but as he was well able to spare me a horse, I made the demand. He complied with the request after emerging (as I believe) from a barrel of feathers. His novel appearance caused Tom Haile, who was always fond of a joke, to tell him that he must not let Jim Craig see him in that condition, or he might capture him for a spotted mule, which Murphy, in his good humored way, passed off very well. We also took a horse from Orville McIlvaine, who lived on the place known as the Baker farm. I had some anxiety to see him in order to make him break his well-known rule of never parting with a greenback after it got into his safe; but his retiring nature prompted him to conceal himself in the garret until we departed. We now rejoinedthe other boys and started back by the way of Mingo Swamp. Before we reached that place we were warned by our friends that the Federals were thick in that locality. About midnight we arrived at the house of William Coots (well-known as old Bill Coots,) who had heretofore invariably represented himself as a Rebel of unusual bitterness. In answer to our inquiries, he told us that there were no Federals in the neighborhood, neither had there been any for more than a month. He also told us that the men we wished to find were then at home. I felt very much gratified on hearing statements so favorable to the success of our enterprise, and requested him to supply us with a few days‘ rations and provender for our horses, while we camped at a certain point not more than half a mile distant.

He readily consented, and gave us a very pressing invitation to come and take breakfast with him about sun up. To this we agreed, and at the time designated, we all left our camp and repaired to the house of our generous host, who received us with a great deal of what might be termed “Arkansas courtesy.” It may be readily supposed that the scanty fattening process we had gone through while on the St. Francis bluff had produced a streak of lean running the whole length of our mortal bodies; and that the odor from the kitchen, of coffee, ham and eggs, with other ingredients intermixed with spices, made us for a time forget all other things on these mundane shores. When breakfast was announced and we were about to seat ourselves at thetable, old Coots remarked: “Here, gentlemen, you can lay your arms on the bed,” but it was not our custom to take off our arms at any time, so we seated ourselves at the table with them on. We were perhaps about half done eating when a ragged looking Federal stepped up to the door, and in an exulting tone said: “Well, Coots! you got them, did you?” and bawled out “surrender,” at which I sprang from the table, drew my revolver and shot Coots, seized my gun which I had left near the door, and cleared the door by about fifteen feet; I shot a Federal with my revolver which I still held in my right hand, and in a few bounds gained the woods unhurt, save a slight wound on the back of my head. My men attempted to follow without their guns, two of them were killed in their attempt to escape, while the remaining one (Tom Haile,) soon got with me, and we made our way to our horses. Fortunately the Federals had not found them. We tarried awhile for our comrades, but as they did not come up we were fearful that they were slain. Mounting our horses and leading theirs, we made our way to a canebrake about a mile off, and sent a citizen back to ascertain the real state of affairs. After taking an old bridle in his hand, he made his way over, inquiring of each person he met for a grey mare and a black colt.

On passing the house of old Bill Coots he was halted, at which he did not seem to be the least alarmed, but expressed the utmost surprise when the whole tragedy was related to him. The worstpart of the whole affair was that two of my men were killed and were lying at the time in front of the house. On receiving this news we started home to get a force sufficient to clean out the Federals, but on arriving in Green county, Arkansas, nearly all of our men were out on scouting excursions, principally toward the West.

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