HOMEWARD BOUND.
We remained but two days at this Missouri camp, when the reveille sounded
early in the morning of August 1st, and the troops were astir. We were
a long way from home, and on short rations; and, in addition to this,
we felt some anxiety about the boys we left at Camp Atchison, having
heard nothing from them. The sun was very hot the day we left; one of
the kind the boys called "muggy,"--disagreeable in the extreme. At dress
parade the night before, we received the compliments of the General in
orders read, announcing that the purpose of the expedition had been
accomplished. This was, of course, good news to us, and we speculated as
to how early a date would find us taking leave of this far-away camp.
The scouts reported to the General that Indians had been crossing the
river below us all day long, and the indications were that they intended
to make an attack about midnight, in order to steal our teams. With this
information before him, General Sibley ordered one-half the command out
on guard, and the balance to lay on their arms. In an hour or so another
order came, for the balance of the command to reinforce the guard,
because there surely would be an attack, and it did come about twelve
o'clock; but the attempt to capture the teams miscarried; for, after a
few shots, the Indians retired. Having lost nearly all of their wagons
and cured meat, they were in a desperate condition, and a commissary
train would have been a rich prize.
On the morning we left it was astonishing how quickly we got ready, and
how lonesome the canvas city looked after the bugle sounded "strike
tents." We marched out this fine morning with our banners flying, and the
band playing "The Girl I Left Behind Me."
There were no regrets, for the "beautiful Indian maiden" had not made a
favorable impression on us, and we had our own little families at home.
The Sixth Minnesota was in the rear, and we were hardly beyond the limits
of the camp before the Indians had taken possession and commenced firing
on our rear guard. The Colonel gave the necessary commands to bring us
to a "right about," with orders to "commence firing." The orders came in
quick succession, and were such a surprise to the Indians that they took
to their heels with great alacrity. They hovered about us during all the
day, but did not in the least retard us in our homeward march. We were
instructed to supply ourselves with water before starting, because we
must march eighteen miles, to Apple river bend, before we could get a
fresh supply.
The day was excessively warm, and the men became thirsty; but, behold! we
look away, and a beautiful lake appears before us. "Water! water!" cry
the thirsty men, and our canteens were soon empty, in anticipation of
refilling them from the bosom of this beautiful lake before us. We march
and thirst again, and the beautiful lake seems just as far away.
"It's two miles to that lake," says one thirsty soul. We march the
two miles, and yet are two miles away, and the thirst and heat are
intolerable.
"Surely that's water," said another, "but we don't seem to get any nearer
to it."
We marched and marched; but we must be in a valley, for the lake is out
of sight.
"When we get over the ridge we'll see the beautiful lake," comes from
some one in the ranks.
We got over the ridge, but the beautiful lake, in all its refreshing
loveliness, had vanished. Had it evaporated, or had it sunk into the
ground? Neither. We had been deceived,--it was a mirage! The air was hot,
the earth parched, the throats dry, the canteens empty, and we were yet
eight miles from water.
Eight long, weary miles to go before we reach the bend in Apple river,
but there was no help for it, and we bear to it with our soldier load.
"Five miles farther," says the scout, and our hearts almost stop beating,
we are so parched; three miles, and on we march; only one mile more, and
we would run if we could. We reach the bank, and the Colonel commands:
"Battalion, halt!" but the refreshing water is too near, and the
famishing men make a run for it, and do not stop until they are in waist
deep, and then they drink to their fill and replenish their canteens.
On our return march we passed nearly over the same ground as we did
going out. We passed the battlefield of the Big Mound, and went into
camp by the lake where Lieutenant Freeman was killed; this was on the
4th of August. The next day our scouts reported "Indians ahead,"--a
false alarm,--the Indians espied were half-breeds bringing us mail from
Camp Atchison, and also the news that George A. Brackett, who was with
Lieutenant Freeman when he was killed, had made his way, after weary
days and nights of wandering, and in a half-starved condition, to Camp
Atchison, where he fell among friends.
When we arrived at Camp Atchison it took but a day to arrange for our
final departure. Lieutenant Freeman's body had been recovered and buried,
and the place so marked that it was easily found afterwards, when the
body was removed and taken to his home for final interment.
We drew five days' rations of hard tack and bacon, and the side dishes
that go with it; just what they were I cannot now remember. I guess the
dear old army bean was one and desiccated vegetable another; anyway,
we were not troubled with the gout from too much eating of rich food.
The surgeons made proper provision for the transportation of the sick
by placing them in ambulances, and at an early hour the headquarters'
bugler sounded "strike tents," and the canvas city was razed to the
ground;--Camp Atchison was a back number.
The command took up the line of march for Fort Snelling, where we
expected to receive orders to proceed at once to join the Union Army in
the South. We were a jolly crowd, and the march seemed but a pleasant
pastime; we had driven the enemy out of the country, and, save the first
two or three days of our return march, he was giving us no trouble. We
made good time, and the nearer we got home the shorter the miles became.
When we got down to civilization we were accorded an ovation; especially
was this the case at Minneapolis, where the whole city turned out to bid
us welcome.
We arrived at Fort Snelling on the morning of September 12th, after
having made a march of more than twelve hundred miles;--and thus ended
the campaign of 1863.