Chapter XXXVII: Personal--Conclusion 391 (12)

A few miles above Decatur I was overtaken by daylight, and knowing very well that the river was well picketed by the rebels all the way to Tuscumbia, I did not try to travel, but pulled ashore under a steep bluff, and hid my canoe under some overhanging willows, and hid myself in a cleft in the rocks to sleep and rest till the next night. It was in the latter part of October--about the 26th or 27th, I believe--and I had rather a cold time of it, among the stones. During the day a company of rebel cavalry rode along the top of the bluff, just over my head, but they did not see me, and I rested well till dark, when I pushed out in the stream and resumed my journey. I passed Decatur while the lights in the houses were still burning, and as I rowed by the foot of the main street, a single shot was fired on the bank--the flash of the gun being toward me--though I did not know what they were shooting at, nor did I call to inquire.

In the neighborhood of Lamb's ferry, just at the head of Muscle Shoals, I laid down in the bottom of my boat to rest a little, as I was very tired and sleepy. How long I slept I do not know,--not more than an hour, I think--when I heard a chicken crow, and waking up, I found I was floating by a house on the bank. I picked up my oar and began to paddle leisurely on, too tired and sleepy to work hard, and in a short time I passed another house. It was dark, to be sure, but still I could see that it bore a striking resemblance to the first one. Two brothers, I thought, live on adjoining plantations; or perhaps an old man and one of his children, and have built houses alike. I still pulled on, but lo! in a short time I passed another just like the other two. This was unaccountable for a minute, but I remembered I had seen a big cottonwood tree on the bank at each of the other houses, and now I thought of it, they too were as the houses and fences--all, all exactly alike; what could it mean? Was I bewitched? I started directly across the river, to the opposite bank, resolved to leave a country where such sameness prevailed. It savored too much of enchantment to suit me, so I would go elsewhere; but as I approached the channel, I discovered that I was in a big eddy, caused by an island on one side, and a sweeping curve in the bank on the other, and that I had been floating around in a circle--how long, I could not tell.

Shortly after I pulled ashore on an island, to pass another day, hiding my canoe under the overhanging boughs, which projected far out over the water, and lying down in my boat to sleep. After taking a long nap, I was awakened by a rattling in the chains of my boat, and raising up and peering over the gunwale, I espied a large, fat raccoon, reared up on his hind legs, playing with the loose end of the chain, as it dangled from the limb it was tied to. His look was astonishingly intelligent, and he enjoyed the sport till the swinging of the iron hit him on the nose, when he hustled off up the bank and was seen no more. Scarcely, however, was he away, before a mink came trotting down to the end of my boat, and cast an inquiring look into it; but one glance sufficed him, and he was off like a shot.

Nothing more occurred to disturb me, till I discovered a company of rebel cavalry on the north bank of the river. Nearly opposite where I lay; on that side, was a house; and as the cavalry approached it, I saw an old man bring an officer down to the water's edge, and point out to him where I was hid; after which the latter rode back to the company, when they all moved off down the river, and I began to flatter myself that I should not be disturbed. Still, I thought it best to keep a good look out for them, and I soon saw them about three-fourths of a mile down the river. They came to the bank and I was satisfied now that something was to be done. They dismounted, and six of them got into a large canoe, and pushing off, set out toward me, coming a considerable distance, when they appeared to be called back by the party on shore. A brief consultation then ensued, and they again pushed out in the river; but this time they steered below the end of the island, and again I was almost ready to believe I would not be disturbed.

In about half an hour I heard them paddling up the river on the opposite side of the island, which was here very narrow. I watched them closely, and discovered that they were not more than seventy-five yards off, and coming rapidly; so, quickly loosening my boat, I pushed out in the stream, and was away down the river. I put out all my strength until I passed the men on the shore, and as I was sailing by at a safe distance from them, they hailed me with the order, "Come ashore with that boat;" but I could not see it in that light, and redoubled my efforts at the paddle. I heard their guns, bang, bang, bang, in rapid succession, but it was a useless waste of ammunition, for I was now flying through one of the swiftest shoals on the Tennessee, and was out of range with almost lightning speed.

The Muscle Shoals are forty miles long, and I was now in the head of them. In some places the river is very wide--perhaps two miles--while in other places, far more narrow, and there is a long series of cascades, down which the water rushes foaming and roaring, dashing and thundering, among the rocks--sometimes for miles--lashed into foam by its own impetus, and then pouring over perpendicular falls, and breakers in the rocky bed. It was a fearful ride in the dark, as several of the cascades were five or six feet from top to bottom, and one, known as the "big jump," was ten feet in perpendicular hight; or so, at least, I was informed by men who followed boating over the shoals. The most dangerous ride I had was by a point on the south side of the stream, called Green's bluff. By running on that side, I avoided the highest part of the "big jump;" and I made my way over it in safety, though not without some bruises, and a thorough drenching.

At South Florence I saw innumerable camp fires, and was at a loss to account for it. During the day, while laying up on an island, I heard the reverberations of cannon on the water, and now here was a camp in full view--perhaps the very one I was searching after. I was in a swift, but not turbulent part of the shoals, and I determined at once to reconnoiter, and therefore pulled my boat around, in full view of the camp fires--some of which were near the water's edge--and discovered the gray uniform of the sentries, and I was, of course, off again in the distance, knowing that I had passed an army of rebels.

I well knew that at least a portion of our army was near them, or why the firing I had heard? A little further down and I discovered the piers of a railroad bridge, the woodwork of which had been burned; and I felt satisfied that it was on the road leading to Tuscumbia. Still, however, I did not see any suitable place to land, till a long way below that point, when I discovered a narrow road leading out from the water's edge, and up to it I pulled my little craft, resolved to find a house and get some information about the movements of troops in that part of the country.

While hunting for a house, I heard the beating of a single drum off in the distance; and shortly after, followed a "reveille," but far away from where I was. Advancing carefully to reconnoiter, I discovered a picket just before daylight, and stealing up toward him, behind a thick growth of weeds--for he was near a fence, the corners of which had not been trimmed--I was soon near enough to touch him with my gun, when I called out to him to know his regiment, and he responded: "The 5th Ohio."

What weight and doubt was now removed from my mind! He was a friend! I had feared that I was approaching a rebel camp, but now my misgivings had vanished into air! I now told him that I had dispatches for General Sherman, and wanted to pass into camp, and he called the corporal, who sent me in without delay.

I found Tuscumbia in possession of General Blair's troops; and the General furnished me a good breakfast and an ambulance to Cherokee station; and from here, by order of General Wright I was conveyed on a special train to Iuka, where Sherman then was; and I at once delivered my dispatches, which were not yet three days old. No sooner had I delivered the documents, than my strength utterly failed me, and I sunk down exhausted, before I could reach the place assigned me to rest.

The service I had performed was most arduous and dangerous; but let General Sherman himself describe it, and its importance, which he does in the following document:

HEADQUARTERS MILITARY DIVISION OF THE MISSISSIPPI,
NASHVILLE, TENN., April 16, 1864.

Corporal James Pike, Co. A 4th Ohio Cavalry, in October, 1863,
carried a message from General Grant to me at Iuka. He got a
canoe at Whitesburg, opposite Huntsville, and came down the
Tennessee, over the Muscle Shoals, all alone, for over one
hundred miles of river, every mile of which was picketed by the
enemy, and reached me safely, as stated, at Iuka. It was that
message that hastened my movement to Chattanooga. The whole
affair is highly creditable to the skill, courage and zeal of
Corporal Pike.

(Signed,) W. T. SHERMAN,
Major General.

The same dispatch reached him in two other ways. Corporal Brant and private John Wakefield, of the 4th Ohio, went down the north bank of the river with it, and Lieutenant Fitzgerald, with a hundred 4th Regulars, got through with it; but I do not believe either of these parties could have been successful if I had not first made it by the river.

In about two hours after I delivered the dispatch, General Sherman put his army in motion for Chattanooga; and as soon as the first division began to cross over, the rebels who occupied the north bank, crossed over on the shoals, and joined Wheeler on the south side, thus opening the way for the other two parties to reach the General, which they could not otherwise have done.

As soon as I rested a day, I started back up the country, with Brant, and Wakefield, to report the advance of Sherman's army to General Crook. I told General Sherman that I needed a horse, and he replied that I should take the best animal there was in Tishamingo or Lauderdale counties; but after careful search and patient inquiry, I found that his own men had not left a single one in the country that was able to go; and when I reported the result of my investigation to the General, he kindly borrowed one for me, with saddle, bridle and blankets; and I need hardly state that I forgot to return them.

In an incredibly short time the army reached Chattanooga, and in two days participated in the battles of Lookout mountain and Mission Ridge; and in the glorious victories won on those stoutly contested fields, I felt myself amply repaid for the dangers I had encountered in my journey over the Muscle Shoals by night.

_CHAPTER XXXI._

RAID IN NORTH CAROLINA--REBEL COLONEL WALKER KILLED.

On our return, we found Elk river exceedingly swollen; so, leaving our horses with a Union man in the neighborhood, named Hugh McLamore, we walked up the bank of the stream in search of a boat, as an attempt to swim it would result in almost certain death. We proceeded at least ten miles, when we saw a canoe on the opposite side, which was the property of a notorious old rebel; and immediately two of us hid, while the third called the boat over. Not dreaming who we were, but evidently supposing the hail was from a rebel soldier, he sent one of his negroes over with the craft at once; but no sooner did it reach the shore, than we all three sprang in, to the astonishment and terror of the darkey.

On reaching the stable, we confiscated two fine mules and a carriage horse, the old rebel raving and swearing all the time. We laughed at his passion, and rode off, without damaging his property or injuring him, our seizure of the animals being merely for the good of the service.

At this house we learned of a Capt. Richardson, who commanded a company of guerrillas, and who was at a place called Bethel church; and immediately we set out for the point indicated, but found only one of his men and two horses, as some one had given notice of our approach. This fellow was just leaving the camp with two very fine animals; and as soon as he discovered us, he darted off down a narrow road, with us immediately after him. Before we reached the road, a man turned into it with a pair of wild young steers hitched to a cart; and as we charged down, the steers ran off, following closely the guerrilla. The chase now became exciting. Away we all went, pell mell, the wild oxen making about equal time with the flying rebel, and we doing our best to dash by them, and the vehicle to which they were attached, to catch the Johnnie.

The driver of the steers was short, thick, and fat; and when the cart was thumping over roots and stumps, he threw himself down on the bottom of the bed, and fairly roared with fright and pain. The punishment he endured must have been severe; for sometimes he would be thrown three or four feet up in the air, and then fall back again into the cart with a thump that made him roar again. But as we lost the guerrilla by his team getting in our way, we pursued him on, chasing him another mile or so--indeed, until the cattle were completely exhausted, and could run no more. We then reached the Athens road, and there gave him a little parting advice; for we felt sure that he was the man who had warned the guerrillas of our approach; and after concluding our admonition, we struck out toward Athens.

This was once a handsome little town, the buildings possessing taste, and being of a substantial character; and it has been rendered somewhat famous as the first place where one of our commanders promulgated the doctrine of retaliation. At the time we passed through it, it was almost in ruins; the chief buildings having been burned by order of Gen. O. M. Mitchell, in retaliation for guerrilla depredations.

From Athens we proceeded to Huntsville, and thence to Brownsboro, where we found Gen. Crook, who was highly pleased with the success which had attended our efforts.

As the General expected to remain for some time in command of the second cavalry division, he at once made a detail of scouts to operate with me; his plan being to have them well drilled in their business, and then employ them in acquiring information of affairs within the enemies lines; and also as flankers and flying sentinels when the command was on the march. The men detailed were a gallant set of fellows, and they did a great amount of good service; but Gen. Crook being ordered to Virginia, was succeeded by Gen. Garrard, who did not approve of our "style," and so disbanded our organization.

Soon after being detailed on this service, we were sent out on a scout by Gen. Thomas, the object being to burn the big railroad bridge at Augusta, Georgia; and if it were possible to do so, the one across the Congaree, on the road between Branchville and Columbia. Aiken was another desirable point to reach, where we might do incalculable mischief to the enemy's communications; but Augusta was the grand objective point, as here was located the most extensive powder mill in the entire Confederacy, as well as one of the largest, best, and most important bridges. To destroy either the powder mill or the bridge, was to inflict irreparable injury upon the rebel cause, and hence the importance of success.

We set out in the winter, and succeeded in getting as far as the little town of Murphy, in Cherokee county, North Carolina, where we found the snow was so deep in the mountains that it was impossible to proceed farther; and we accordingly turned our attention to affairs in the immediate vicinity of where we then were. We were accompanied by a party of citizens, who aided us to the extent of their power, and gave us all the information we needed. We ascertained that one Col. W. C. Walker, who formerly commanded a brigade at Cumberland gap, but who was now at home with plenary conscripting powers, was creating much trouble in the county; he being enagaged in carrying into effect his sweeping powers, with all the energy at his command, and all the cruelty of his nature. He had already sent a large number of unwilling conscripts to his camp, on Notely river, some of whom, however, managed to desert, and reached our lines, reporting to Col. Long, then commanding the forces at Charleston, on the Hiawassee, in Tennessee. Nothing discouraged, however, Walker continued to pick up men wherever he could find them; and although he had but forty or fifty men in camp upon whom he could rely, he had a full set of officers in camp for a maximum regiment--that condition of officers being the result of the inordinate ambition of the _Southern_, or perhaps I should say _secesh_ heart.

After mature deliberation, we concluded to abandon our original mission altogether, and take the "dashing" Colonel prisoner, and conveying him back with us to Chattanooga. Subsequent events, however, convinced us of the truth of the old adage, that it takes at least two to make a bargain; for the Colonel refused to be taken.

As soon as it was dusk, on New Years' night, of 1864, we sallied out from a place of concealment, and went to Walker's house, and after surrounding it called upon him to surrender. He immediately demanded to know who we were, and we replied that we were Yankee soldiers; and that if he gave himself up he should be treated like a gentleman, and "as a prisoner of war;" but he replied with an oath that he would do no such thing. I then informed him that resistance would be useless, as his house was surrounded, and that we would take him, dead or alive. He responded to this threat, with:

"_I will surrender when I please._"

Knowing that he had constantly about him a body guard, I concluded to storm the house, before they had time to rally to his assistance. Seizing the door step, which was a short, heavy log, I broke in the door, in front, while the men behind the house proceeded to demolish that in the rear. Walker retreated to an inner room, and made a stand to sell his life as dearly as possible, twice more refusing to surrender. We soon demolished the two doors to this room, as we had done the outer ones. Still anxious to save his life, I drew a bead on him with a pistol, and ordered him again to yield himself a prisoner. He was standing with a Sharp's carbine, almost ready to shoot, before I succeeded in drawing my pistol; but, fortunately, I was too quick for him. Seeing I had the advantage, I again called on him to surrender, when, after a moment's hesitation, he replied:

"Yes, boys, I'll surren----," and partly turned to lay his carbine on the bed, when his wife caught my arm, and, by a violent jerk, destroyed my aim. Quick as thought he wheeled, and raised his gun to shoot me, but the other men had got in, to assist me, and as his wife still clung frantically to my arm, his daughter, a beautiful young lady, threw herself partially between us; still, however, he appeared bent on shooting me, and I told the boys to fire on him; and Jack Cook, of the 37th Indiana, discharged his piece, and sent a bullet through his heart, and he fell dead at our feet, without a groan or a struggle.

The work had been more quickly done, than it requires me to relate it; and as we had no time to lose we prepared for defense. We heard quite a large party in another part of the house; we formed before the door of the room occupied by his body guard, and rushed at it; and I succeeded in throwing myself, and log of wood, on top of the shattered door, in the middle of the room, and directly among the rebels, who were now prepared for a serious resistance; but our onset was so impetuous, that for a moment our enemies were paralyzed, and in that brief interval we gained a decided advantage, being the first to come to an "aim" and the Johnnies at once surrendered. There were six or eight of them, including Walker's son, who was the Sergeant Major of the regiment; and we captured the entire party, without firing a shot.

After we had secured our prisoners, we took the Colonel's horses, as well as all that we could gather up in the neighborhood, and started on our return to Chattanooga. Our route was a tedious and laborious one, over the Frog mountains, which were then covered with ice and snow--the cold being intense.

The view from the top of Frog mountain, is one of the grandest in North America; but we had no time to enjoy the magnificent scenery, as there was every prospect that we should be rapidly pursued. At Murphy, seven miles from Walker's house, were about thirty home guards; at Ducktown, five miles away, were also about the same number; and at Blairsville was Young's whole battalion, while there were but ten men in my party, besides a few citizens--rather a small number to venture so far in the enemy's country. We were, however, well armed and equipped, and bountifully supplied with ammunition.

After nearly freezing, two or three times, in the mountains, and suffering severely from hunger and fatigue, we at length reached Charleston, and turned over our captives to Colonel Long, who was still in command at that place.

We traveled so fast that young Walker was seized with a violent pain in the breast, so I thought rather than be hard on him, I would parole, and leave him, which I did at the house of a noted secessionist; and he promised to nurse him till he became well enough to return to his family.

Some time after this I was in South Carolina, and heard, incidentally, that young Walker had run off to that State, in order to save himself from being killed by his Union neighbors. He might as well have braved it out at home, for a Union man in South Carolina killed him on Tiger Tail creek, and sent his body to Walhalla.

Before leaving North Carolina, I turned another prisoner loose, with instructions to notify every officer of Walker's command to leave the country at once, or I would return with a stronger force and send them all after their colonel; and while passing through the country some time after, I learned that they had all obeyed my injunction. We likewise, in one place, called for a certain Captain Stanhope Anderson, but he was not at home; so we took down his knapsack from a nail where it hung, inspected his papers, and then threw the whole outfit it contained on his own fire; then took his pistol and ammunition, broke into his apple holes, and helped ourselves to all we could carry with us; after which we directed the overseer to inform the captain that if he didn't quit the rebel service, and turn to be a good Union man, we would come back and take his life. On going back, I found that he, too, had heeded our admonition, and that he was then thoroughly loyal, and the original Unionists in the vicinity all spoke well of him since his change of views.

When he entered the rebel service, he swore, in a public speech, to come back with death in his hand, or victory on the point of his sword; and I think he owes me a real debt of gratitude for working his conversion without driving him to extremeties.

I only relate this incident here as an illustration of a view I have always entertained, viz: That public opinion is an article of manufacture, as well as boots or shoes.

After reaching Colonel Long's camp at Charleston, and resting ourselves, we started for Chattanooga, taking canoes at Cottonport; and on arriving at my place of destination, I reported to General Thomas, after which I returned to Huntsville, to General Crook.

_CHAPTER XXXII._

BRIDGE BURNING EXPEDITION TO AUGUSTA.

We scouted awhile for General Crook, then for Colonel Miller, and Gen. Logan; and upon orders from the last named, we burned up nearly all the distilleries in North Alabama; but when Gen. Garrard took command, as already stated, the scouts were disbanded, and I returned to Gen. Thomas again.

Nothing worthy of narration occured to me now, till the advance from Chattanooga upon Rocky-face Ridge, when I participated in part of one day's fight.

The project for the destruction of the railroad bridge at Augusta had been recently revived. If that structure could be destroyed, it could not be repaired for months, and the damage to the enemy's communications would be worth an immense amount to us. Could I slip around and burn it? And then amid the confusion resulting from it, would it not be possible to give a little attention to the powder mill, and blow it to fragments?

I started for Nashville at once for an outfit, consisting of matches of a peculiar manufacture, phosphorus and steel arrow heads for throwing it; and while in the city, I was joined by a man named Charles R. Gray, who volunteered to go with me. We set out from Nashville for the front, and arrived there during the battle at Rocky-face Ridge, and we both went in. It seemed to be a free fight, and every man I saw was doing something, and of course I could not be idle. The rebels had a decided advantage in position, being at the top of the ridge; and they wounded a great many of our men, by rolling huge stones down on them. But I did not get to see all of the battle, as early on the morning of the second day, we set out on our journey--Gen. Thomas having just commenced a maneuver to flank the enemy on the left, as stated.

We went to Chattanooga by railroad, riding on the General's "dummy" car, and from thence proceeded to Charleston, Tennessee, on a freight train; and from that point we were compelled to fall back on first principles--to travel on foot.

From Charleston we followed the Hiawassee some distance, and then leaving the river, crossed the Frog mountains again, and then returned to the river, at Murphy, in Cherokee county. On the way we encountered some tough times and some pretty merry ones. On one occasion we stopped with an old man, whose family consisted of himself, wife, three daughters, and a daughter-in-law, all of whom were Union, except the last named, who was secesh to the back bone, and was prepared at any moment to do anything in the world for the rebel cause. We were not in the house long before we made ourselves familiar--Gray, my partner, directing his conversation to the daughters, while I entertained the daughter-in-law, and soon had her convinced that we were rebels in disguise. She was pleased that we were devoting our attention to the Hiawassee valley, and wished us every success in our enterprise, whatever it might be; and when I told her my business was ferreting out deserters, who were secreted in that region by the Lincolnites, her admiration of our patriotism was unbounded.

After thus gaining her confidence, I began questioning her as to the different bodies of troops stationed higher up the river, and through which we were compelled to pass, and I found her thoroughly posted; and the information she gave me proved, on subsequent observation, to be correct. To my inquiry about the state of the country, and as to whether there were any lawless characters infesting the mountains, she replied:

"No; there are none now, nor has there been since last winter, when Old Spikes and a lot of Yankee bushwhackers came upon Persimmon creek and killed Colonel Walker. Ever since that time the country has been mighty quiet."

"Wasn't his name Pike, instead of Spikes?" I inquired.

"Yes, yes; that _was_ it; and they say he was a mighty hard case--a perfect savage," said she.

"But what was our cavalry doing," I asked, "that they didn't pursue and capture the villains?"

"Well; a lot of Colonel Young's home guard did get after them," was the reply, "but they killed the colonel in the night, and took to the mountains right away, and our men never found them."

She was eyeing me curiously now, and presently she asked:

"Stranger; what is your name?"

"Frank Barton, madam," I replied, without hesitation.

"Where are you from?" she inquired.

"Waco, Texas," said I; and I launched off into a description of Texas and its people, stock raising, agriculture, etc., and soon got her thoroughly convinced that I was really telling her the truth.

We had an excellent supper here, and pushed on up the river. Whenever we found a friendly neighborhood we would stop at houses; but, when we wouldn't like the appearances, we would hide out in the woods. When we lay out we would steal chickens and take them into the woods with us; and if we failed on poultry, we killed a hog: and as for bread, we never thought of it. When we got into the neighborhood at the base of the Blue Ridge, we found the people very much exercised in regard to their stock. The rebels had sent them word to have their cattle gathered, as they would be after them in two or three days, to take them off to the army. It was Colonel Thomas--the notorious Bill Thomas, commanding a legion of Indians, who sent them the order; and the people were fully determined to resist the seizure of their stock, and sent Thomas word that if he got their cattle he must gather them himself. There were perhaps sixty able-bodied men, who were armed and willing to resist if the rebels came into their neighborhood to enforce the order; and Gray and I joined the insurrectionary forces and helped to promote the spirit of resistance among them. We waylaid the pass in the mountains, through which the rebels must necessarily come, for a couple of days; but Thomas must have learned, by some means, that the people were armed and awaiting for his arrival, as he did not come.

We practiced target-shooting, one afternoon, with several of these mountaineers, just for the sake of making a favorable impression among them. Gray held a cap box between his thumb and finger for me to shoot at, and to show the confidence we had in each other we exchanged positions, and I held the box as a mark for Gray's bullet. The distance was fifty yards.

Early on the morning of the 20th of May we scaled the Blue Ridge--a very severe undertaking, and one which caused us great labor and fatigue. When one stands at the foot of the mountain and looks up, the summit appears wrapped in a blue haze; and when on the top, looking down, the foot appears belted in blue, a shade or two deeper than azure.

From the summit of this ridge the view is indeed grand and picturesque. Other mountains rise up in every direction, to meet the vision--"Great Smoky," in East Tennessee, being among those distinctly visible from the point where we then stood. It is no unfrequent occurrence for it to be raining down in the valleys, while on the summit of the ridge the sky is perfectly clear and the sun shining. Going along the top of the Long Ridge, or as the natives call it, the Ridge Pole, we were astonished at its hight and singular formation--it being, I believe, the most elevated point of land in the Alleghany mountains, though my data on this subject is by no means positive. The summit of the ridge is extremely narrow--being not more, in many places, than six or ten feet in width--the descent on the west side being regular, but steep, while on the east it is little else than a precipice for a thousand feet down.

One particular feature of these mountains is the fact, that both sides and tops are covered with a deep, rich soil, of very dark, or black color, the tops, however, being so high as to be destitute of timber.

Descending to the foot of the ridge, on the eastern side, we came to the head waters of the Tallulah river--so called by the Indians, on account of its extraordinary falls, which are, perhaps, the highest in the country, though no single fall is as high as others which might be mentioned. There are five cataracts in a quarter of a mile, the water descending four hundred feet altogether. The roaring of the waters can be heard an incredible distance; and no wonder that the red men named it Tallulah--thunder river.

We followed the stream to its junction with the Chattooga, where the two form the Tugalo, being conducted on the route by a man named Ramy, whom we hired to pilot us through the most dangerous sections of the country, the distance being twenty-eight miles. He was a perfect specimen of a backwoodsman, and loyal, after the most rigid definition of that word. Near the mouth of the Chattooga a brother of his lived, who had a son in the rebel army and who was a violent secessionist. He was member of Young's Georgia cavalry, which was at Clayton, then only six miles away.

On the west side of the Blue Ridge, we had frequently passed off as rebel soldiers in disguise; but generally for Union men--always suiting ourselves to the company we were in, or as our interests demanded; but on the east side, we knew that we had nothing to expect from citizens if we claimed to be Yankee soldiers, as they were nearly all against us, and, therefore, we almost uniformly represented ourselves as rebels on our way to Augusta to join our regiments. We belonged, we stated, to the 4th (confederate) Kentucky Cavalry. But we had as little to do with the people as possible; but when we could not avoid meeting them, we told this simple story with occasional variations, to satisfy the curious and the doubting.

Young Ramy was at home when we reached his father's house, and in the morning we left early, telling the people we were going to Walhalla, to get on the morning train; but as soon as we were out of sight, we turned down the Tugalo, and stole a canoe, below the first shoals, and traveled constantly till we ran our boat aground on a shoal, and were compelled to abandon it and wade ashore, trusting to our chances to obtain another craft.

When daylight overtook us, we hid out in the mountains, on Brasstown creek--a stream noted for its high cascades. Traveling on the river by night or by day, as best suited our purposes, we finally reached the head of the canal, seven miles above Augusta; one day, at noon time, we passed through a section of the country where a large number of Col. Bill Thomas' Indians were quartered--some farming, some tending stock, while others were making baskets, and yet others were fishing. All appeared busy, in a lazy sort of Indian way; and most of them had been wounded in the rebel service. Being unfit for active duties, they had been sent to this part of South Carolina to recruit themselves, and to raise something to support the tribe who were entirely helpless. They were Cherokees, who have always lived on the Tuckasege river, and at Qualla town, on the Qualla river, in North Carolina. They were the saddest appearing Indians I ever saw, and seemed to have lost the last vestige of that firey independence which characterizes their race: and as far as I could discover, they had not been benefited by intercourse with the white race.

The Tugalo is one of the most beautiful streams I ever beheld. Its banks are finely diversified with mountain scenery, generally in the distance; while the bottoms are in the highest state of cultivation--indeed, some of the finest plantations, and best built mansions in all the southern country, are on this river. At times, the water, which is always clear, runs smooth and deep, for some distance, when suddenly it is broken by shoals, miles and miles in length; the current roaring and dashing among the rocks, with astonishing velocity; so that to navigate the surging waves, required all the skill and presence of mind we could muster.

After the Tugalo makes its junction with the Seneca, the stream takes the name of Savannah, or as the mountaineers call it--the Sav-a-naw. Below the mouth of the Seneca, the river rapidly widens, and the water assumes a yellowish or muddy color, and it is full of wild and dangerous shoals. The bottoms, on either side, are wide and well cultivated; but on account of the fearful freshets, caused by the rising of the mountain streams above, there are no houses built near the river--they generally being from two to three miles back, and sometimes even farther than that; so that we seldom saw any one, save the slaves, and their overseers--the former being the most abject human beings I ever saw. Occasionally, the overseers themselves were black, and as far as I could see, they were equally severe on the laborers, with the white men.

There are no towns at all, immediately on the Savannah, above Augusta. Occasionally we would meet a keel boat coming up to the plantations after corn for the rebel army, they being propelled by poles, and manned by negroes--the man in charge occasionally being a white man; usually, however, he was as black as a crow. Almost every boat contained half a a dozen rebel soldiers as a guard; and these would sometimes hail us as we passed; but as they could not stop without "losing deal" with the current, we would not, for fear of losing deal with them, and therefore, our conversations were of brief duration. If we happened to meet on a shoal, they had always as much as they could do to climb up over it, and we had all we could do to keep from being dashed to pieces among the rocks, so we paid little attention to each other.

There appeared to be a continual falling of the river from the mountains to Augusta; but from there to the coast, I believe that the stream is exceedingly smooth and placid. Some of the shoals above, are miles in extent; and each is known to the keel boatmen by some significant name. Among those which we deemed from observation to be the most dangerous, are the Little river shoals, so called because they are just below the mouth of Little river; the Elizabeth shoals--but why so called I am not aware; and the Trotter shoals, named from the fact that on ascending them with a keel boat, the crew is compelled to trot with their poles to make headway.

This last named rapid is seven miles long, and is one continuous hill in the river, down which the current rushes with frightful velocity, the channel winding back and forth from shore to shore, while the stream itself winds around, with zigzag curves, and is thickly besprinkled with rocks; so that the water is lashed into white caps and foam--the waves rolling short, quick, and angrily, to an incredible hight.

Another dangerous rapid is the Ring Jaw shoal, not far from Augusta; the river here being almost dammed up by great rocks, among which the current forces itself with a short twist, from right to left, and back again with such power that the passing boat is nearly wrung in twain, as it proceeds. Another shoal, about the last in the river, is near the head of the canal, and is called Bull Sluice, and is somewhat after the fashion of Ring Jaw, and about as dangerous.

To add to the dangers we encountered in navigating the stream, we had to run over several mill dams, some of which were from six to eight feet in perpendicular hight; and there was but a single method of passing them, and that was to go over. These dams were invariably built of loose rocks, of great size, piled on the shoals, sometimes from shore to shore, but occasionally only forming a wing, partially across. These mills were almost the only signs of habitation; the structures being generally strong frames, and they were kept constantly running; but as they had all been seized by the rebel government, it was with the greatest difficulty that the people could get either meal or flour. Still the citizens of this section of South Carolina lived far better than did those of any other section of the South which I have visited during the war. They all seemed to enjoy plenty, and it was of the best quality; but the white women, as a general thing, were not good cooks--from a lack of practice, I presume--and the negroes were usually too careless to prepare a meal properly.

_CHAPTER XXXIII._

BLOODHOUND CHASE--TAKEN PRISONER--DRUNKEN AND EXCITED REBELS.

On the night of the 3d of June, 1864, we arrived in Hamburg, opposite Augusta. The first thing necessary now, was to see how affairs stood in town, and we accordingly ascended a hill immediately back of it, where we could see, not only all that was going on in Hamburg, but much that was transpiring in Augusta. We secreted ourselves under a dogwood tree, which was low, and covered with vines, thus forming an excellent hiding place. If no one passed, and made it a special business to look in, we were perfectly secure; and at that place we patiently awaited the approach of daylight. We had learned on the day previous, that the powder mill was so closely guarded, that nothing could be accomplished there, so that we directed our best efforts to the destruction of the bridge.

My plan, before leaving camp, had been to float down under it in a boat, and throw burning arrows into it, provided I saw no chance to _mug_ the guard, and do it boldly. At the foot of the hill we heard a good deal of talking, and could not account for it; but when it got light enough to see, judge our astonishment to find ourselves within seventy-five yards of the railroad, and right before us was a long train loaded with federal prisoners; while farther down in the town we could see several other trains of the same kind. The town was full of captured Union soldiers, and as near as we could guess, there were twelve hundred rebels guarding them. The situation was most embarrassing; to stay where we were was almost certain destruction, and an attempt to go elsewhere would be certain to be discovered. But the best we could do, was, evidently, to keep quiet in our hiding place, bad as that was. We hoped that in a little while the trains would fire up and leave; but on the contrary, they lay there all day. We could see, too, that there was a strong and vigilant guard upon each end of the bridge; and we could discover patrols walking the streets in each town, and in every direction. The prisoners, as usual, looked half starved and sickly; some were clad in bright, new uniforms, and looked well, and it was easy to divine that _they_ were only recently captured. These were in tolerably good spirits, too, which was a sure sign that they had not been long in the hands of the cruel enemy. Others, again, were not quite so well dressed, and looked meager and thin, but were not despondent. These had probably been prisoners for some months; but by far the greater number were clothed in rags, which were in the most filthy condition. They looked very much emaciated and weather-beaten, and their dejected and hope-forsaken countenances, spoke plainly of a long and soul-sickening captivity. Poor, wretched, starved, dejected and sick, they were being moved to that loathsome den, and wholesale place of murder--the Andersonville prison. Of course we did not know their destination for certain, but we judged it from the fact that all the engines headed west.

It was now clear that we were to be unsuccessful. Nothing could escape the vigilance of that guard, either on land or on water. It was positive that we were played out on _that_ string, and what to get at next, we did not know; and even a chance of escape at all argued extremely doubtful. We remembered that on the Tugalo river we had passed under a very fine frame bridge, for ordinary travel, across the Tugalo; and we thought we must do something to damage rebeldom, and we therefore made up our minds to go back and try to burn it, but we had better have gone straight through to the coast and made our escape, as I believe we could have done, without detection.

From our place of concealment we could see the arsenal in Augusta, the powder mill up the river, and nearly every important building in the place; nevertheless, we dare not move from our retreat, for fear of being seen. The poor prisoners were kept under the strictest surveillance, lest they should attempt to escape, and a great many of them, as we could see, were prostrated and helpless from disease. We almost, ourselves, sickened at the sight of these poor, suffering men; and at the certainty that we were powerless to help them. They were crowded into the cars and on top of them, as thickly as they could be packed; and to hear the sick pleading for water, was most heart rending. Poor fellows! some of them would beg until they exhausted themselves, before it would be given them, and what added to the cruelty of this neglect, and to the torture of the men, was the fact that there was plenty of water but a few yards away.

The day wore on, and long awaited night closed in at last; and we then stole from our hiding places, and took the road back up the river. About four miles from Hamburg we "confiscated" a couple of fine horses--the property of a man named Rambo. I am inclined to think we were discovered, just as we led the horses out of the stable, for I heard some one speak at the house, though it was after midnight. On the following morning, we stopped at a blacksmith shop, to have one of the horses shod; and while there, were overtaken by a pursuing party of four men, who demanded the animals. I felt confident that quite a force was after us, and that this was but the advance guard; and as our object was to gain time, and get into the swamps, and timber, we gave up the horses, unconditionally, and without reluctance; saying at the same time that it was very hard to have to foot it clear back to Franklin.

"What are you going to Franklin for," said the leader of the party.

"Why, our command is there," I answered, in an off hand manner.

"What are you doing here, in this State," he demanded.

"We are on special service for Col. Thomas."

"What is the nature of your service," he asked.

"O, we are making preparations to move the Indians all over the mountains, into South Carolina; they are about to starve to death up there in Qualla town. We are compelled to do something to keep them from suffering."

"Well, if you are soldiers, and going back to your command, we don't want to stop you, but really we can't let you take the horses," they replied.

It was such a common occurrence for Rebel soldiers to steal horses, that nothing was ever thought of it, so after recovering the animals, this party was satisfied to start back. We could have whipped out the squad, for they were unsuspicious, and gave us every advantage; but we knew very well that if we did even kill every one of them, it would do us no good, for the whole country behind us was now alarmed, and before night it would be aroused far ahead of us.