MAKING PROGRESS.
At an early hour the next morning we were on hand at the boatman's
house.
When we reached the boat we found our friend with the wagon and negro
driver, together with several other parties, already there, and I was
much relieved to see that the three soldiers had not arrived.
The ferryman told us to go to the bow of the boat and avoid questioning,
which we did.
Just as we had shoved off, and were being hauled along through the trees
to the river bank where the ferry wire was tied, we heard a shout, and,
looking back, saw three horsemen approaching on a gallop. The ferryman
did not stop, and one of the riders yelled out fiercely, and fired his
gun to show that they would make us stop if we did not choose to do so,
whereupon the boat was stopped and slowly pushed back to the water's
edge.
Our relief can be imagined when I discovered that the riders were not
our soldier friends.
As we emerged from the trees into the river channel the current was very
strong, and the heavy load seemed too much for the ferryman and his
helper.
This helper was an old man of an inquisitive nature and appearance, and
I was afraid that he might say or ask something which would attract more
attention to us than was necessary for our comfort or desire for
prominence; so I got up and went over to him, taking hold of the rope
and helping him with the boat, while I plied him with questions so thick
and fast that he only got the opportunity to ask me two questions, both
of which were easily answered.
As we reached the farther shore we had to pull and push the boat among
the trees for nearly half a mile before we reached the ground, and my
old friend was anxious that my friends and myself should be assisted
over the marshy bottom, which extended for some distance, by riding
behind the three horsemen.
He proposed this to the riders, but the visible reluctance of these
gentlemen enabled me to get out of this disagreeable situation with
credit to ourselves, and we struck off through the swamp on our own
hook, after hearing the following remark of the ferryman, made as one of
the riders offered to pay him with a $5 bill of an issue which the
Confederacy had recalled, with a notice that they would not be redeemed
by exchange or otherwise after the coming 1st of January:
"My God, man! I would as soon have a notch on one of them trees as one
of them bills."
After a short walk through the swampy bottom, we struck what was then an
island, and on which were camped about 150 refugees from Missouri. They
had their live stock and all belongings with them.
These people had been too friendly to the South, when Price was in their
State, to make it healthy there for them after he had been driven out,
and they had come to Texas and were living as best they could. From them
we learned that Price's army was at Spring Hill, and we told them that
we were members of his "walking company," as the rebels called Price's
infantry.
As our feet were wet from our walk through the marsh, we got away from
this crowd as soon as possible and went over to the camp of an old woman
for the purpose of getting permission to dry our clothes and shoes. The
favor was granted on application, and we sat there chatting with the
woman and her sons until we were thoroughly dried out. During this talk
we learned that these refugees were disposed to be quite bitter toward
the Texans for the lack of sympathy and hospitality which they thought
should be forthcoming on account of the abuse and persecution which they
had suffered for their Southern sympathies.
After we had dried ourselves sufficiently, we borrowed a brand from the
fire and went off to make a camp of our own.
On our way to a choice spot we met a sick soldier, who was on a furlough
and who had a canoe. He offered to take us with him across the balance
of the swamp, but we declined, because we did not wish to cultivate his
acquaintance and because of our friend Miller.
We waded into the swamp and went at least a mile before we found dry
land, when we picked out a secluded spot, lit a fire and again dried
ourselves thoroughly, going off to some tangled oaks for a sleep while
we waited for night.
Our location was now about ten miles from Boston, and I knew the road;
so we dozed off, in the confidence of apparent security.
I was awakened by a sound which startled me, and as I listened, it
proved to be a rustle in the underbrush, heard at intervals, and the
sound of a bell. The others were called by me, and we hid more securely,
as the footsteps of a man were now to be heard. Soon we saw a most
cadaverous, tall and poverty-stricken looking individual approaching in
an erratic manner, and we could now hear his low-toned mutterings as he
darted here and there. As the lower portion of his body came into view
we saw that he was driving an old sow, with a bell attached to her neck,
and that he carried an old rifle, with its stock tied on with strings.
He seemed to be one of the refugees who had been after his stray hog,
and we arose from our concealment and approached him.
He was literally dressed in rags, and was inclined to be scared at our
appearance, but we soon pacified him, and had an interesting
conversation, during which we learned his whole history.
The interest in this incident exists in the fact that, although I had
seen many Southern men with Northern sympathies, this was the first out
and out rebel I had seen who talked "lost cause."
When night came, we made our way to Boston and passed through the town
in the silence of the deserted streets, the hour being that of very
early morn. The fact that I had spent so many days here, after having
been recaptured on my previous runaway trip, made the spot interesting
to both my companions and myself, and I pointed out to them all the
various points of note. Had we had any chalk with us I should certainly
have left my card, in the shape of some notes, on various doors; but, as
it was, we passed through and on. We went about five miles beyond the
town and camped for the day.
The next night we proceeded without interruption or incident worthy of
note, and reached a deserted cabin about daylight, in which we slept
soundly all day, lying on a few boards in the loft, close to the eaves,
where we were securely hidden. The hut had been used by sheep for
shelter, and it was not excessively clean, but the weather was cold and
threatening when we turned in, and we were not sticklers about trifles
like that.
Our pants were all wet from crossing "slues" and watercourses during the
night, and we were too tired to sit up and dry them out before going to
sleep. When we awoke they were frozen stiff and we were chilled through.
I was awakened by hearing a woman singing as she passed by the old hut,
and as we lay there, rubbing our limbs to restore the circulation, we
heard a splashing and squealing near the hut, which had awakened my
companions and now caused me to go outside to investigate, when it was
found that an enormous rat had tumbled into an old, abandoned well at
the corner of the house. We put him out of his misery and took a run
down a ravine, where we built a good fire and got thoroughly warmed up.
After a scanty meal, we again took to the road and tramped all night,
meeting with no mishaps and making good progress.
In the morning we profited by experience, and went into a ravine, built
a fire and dried out before turning in for the day.
The next night we came to a bayou, about 11 o'clock, and crossed on
logs. Finding a bad road beyond, we sought a retired spot and turned in
to wait for daylight.
In the morning we skirmished around for something to eat, and found it
in the cabin of an old negro, whom we nearly scared to death as we took
possession of his hut. From him we learned that we were in the Red River
bottom, and he directed us how to proceed on our course, telling us to
turn to the right at a certain point, which he described.
After eating heartily of our corn bread and sow belly, we started off in
high spirits, and soon found the spot where we were to turn to the
right, which direction we followed out until the road turned into a
cow-path and finally led us to the bars of a fence across the road at
the edge of a thick wood.
We knew that we were lost and had come a long distance since taking the
right (?) direction. Knowing that we had obeyed the instructions given
us, we were inclined to be wrathy, and we sat down for greater ease and
support while we cussed that nigger "up hill and down." Rummel and I did
the cussing, while Miller watched for a chance to break in upon our
monopoly of the conversation, when he mildly suggested that, as the
nigger was standing with his face to us when he told us how to proceed,
and as we were facing in the direction which we were to take, it was
likely that the darkey had meant his right and not ours, which plausible
explanation only made us the more wrathy, because the nigger had been
stupid instead of having willfully misled us, as we had taken it for
granted he had.
When we had vented our spleen and rested up, we struck out, at a
venture, in preference to retracing our steps. After a tedious struggle
through the underbrush and a thorough wetting in the bayou we had to
cross we at length came upon a large field in which about 100 negroes
were burning stumps and clearing ground. Selecting a hiding place, we
lay in wait to single out some darkey who could be entrusted with our
management until we could cross the Red River and again get started on
our way.
After some little time spent in a study of the various faces which came
near enough to be seen plainly, I selected two men who walked together
and seemed to be brothers. It took a good deal of patience to await a
chance to see them alone, and we talked over all sorts of schemes for
securing a private interview with these darkeys. About the time when we
gave up all scheming and decided to trust to chance, the question was
settled for us by the two men starting off in our direction, with an
evident intention of leaving the field.
In my capacity of diplomat I was sent to waylay them at a proper spot
and negotiate for what we needed in the way of food and assistance. By a
little manoeuvring the darkeys were intercepted at a suitable spot,
and I found them to be very intelligent men, who were only too glad to
help us all they could. They were slaves on a plantation located on the
banks of the Red River, of which the field was a portion, and they were
on their way to the outbuildings, near at hand, for some tools. They
left me, to get the articles needed in the field, and soon returned,
bringing with them a liberal portion of their day's allowance of food,
which they gave to me. Before returning to the field they gave me
explicit directions how to find the river bank after night at the proper
place, where they agreed to meet us and set us across the river. They
gave their names as Taylor and Sam Jeans, and promised to bring us some
more provisions when they met us as agreed.
I returned to Rummel and Miller, and we had a hearty meal, watching the
negroes at work while we ate, and continuing to watch them until they
quit work and went home.