The Bright Side of Prison Life Part 11

I returned to my companions to report progress, and it would have been hard to find two happier men than Rummel and Miller; they were simply delighted with the result of my mission.

After a meal upon the corn bread bought from the ferryman, we turned in for the night.

CHAPTER XVI.

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 hors.e.m.e.n 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 sh.o.r.e 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 a.s.sisted over the marshy bottom, which extended for some distance, by riding behind the three hors.e.m.e.n.

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 G.o.d, 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sed 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 n.i.g.g.e.r "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 n.i.g.g.e.r 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 n.i.g.g.e.r 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 a.s.sistance. 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.

CHAPTER XVII.

A PUZZLE, AND INCIDENTS.

When the appointed time drew near we broke camp and proceeded to the designated spot on the river bank, which we found without much trouble.

We waited and waited, but no negroes appeared. It was now nearly midnight, and a bright moon began to illuminate our surroundings with the ghostly light that proceeds from a combination of the moon's rays with the darkness and shadows of a timbered river bottom. We waited until we could no longer hear a sound from the plantation houses in the distance and for at least an hour after total silence reigned all about us. Then we began to fear that the negroes had forgotten us, and I was despatched to see what I could find.

Now comes a part of my story which I must leave to wiser heads than mine for explanation. I simply state the facts as they occurred and leave the reader to satisfy himself or herself as to the controlling influence which prompted my actions. I cannot satisfactorily explain them to myself.

I did not know a single foot of the ground over which I was to travel, and my only guide as to where I wanted to go was the remembrance of the direction in which we had heard the sounds of plantation life in the early evening.

I started off through a field and came upon a narrow road on the other side, evidently a cross road. Down this I turned, in a direction which did not accord with my memory of the proper course, and yet I seemed to be impelled that way. I soon came to a turnstile in the fence on one side, and through this I pa.s.sed without a moment's hesitation, although there was nothing in sight except a narrow path. Some distance down the path I came to a double row of negro cabins, about twenty on each side of a narrow street, facing each other. I did not know what I was to do, and to find a particular negro in that array of cabins without arousing the whole outfit was a problem beyond me, yet, without any consideration, doubt or even a halt, I pa.s.sed across the end of the street to the rear of the farther row of cabins, and down the back of that row until I reached the nearest corner of the next to the last house. Here I halted and stood still. Why, I do not know, but I did, and it was my first halt since I had left my companions. Shortly after I halted I heard a voice that I recognized say:

"Lay over dar, you Taylor!"