The Dispatch Carrier and Memoirs of Andersonville Prison

s, passed farm-houses, but not a rebel did I see. I began to think there were no rebels in that part o

w, I thought this would be a good place to eat dinner, so I rode down to the creek, watered my horse and as there was a large shade tree standing in front of the house I went back, dismounted, took the saddle off, wiped off my horse and put the saddle back o

s,

iment of confederates, and they expect some more every minute on the same road dat you came on. But see here now: you go straight through dat creek and you will find a bridle path that

the bridle on, the captain stepped out with a double-barrelled shot-gun, (and I think the gun must have been loaded half full, the way it sounded) and said: "Surrender! you Yankee son-of-a-gun." Do not think that I am trying to make myself out brave, but let me tell you it was fight or die. My horse stood straight between the captain and me, and to snatch my carbine from the saddle was the work of a second, and I brought

y were at the top and commenced firing down. Close to the bottom was a creek with very steep banks. My horse did not want to go through and I coaxed and whipped all to no effect. I was about to leave my horse, when "zip" came a bullet and struck him on the shoulder. He made a spring forward, almo

d another through my coat sleeve. Finally, I came to a fence again. Right ahead of me was a low place in it and over we went. When my horse struck the ground

as oozing out of the wound in my horse's hip. I looked back up the hill and saw the rebels coming again. I knew they had no horse that could catc

lley and retreated. In the meantime, our boys had formed a line across the road, but did not waste powder by returning the fire. I rode up to the Captain of the guard, and told him I had dispatches for Col. Wyman. He told me to dismount, and get a cup of coffee, and he would see whether the wound my horse received was serious or not. I rubbed him down and gave the poor fellow some food. The boys in blue got around me, asking all sorts of questions about my trip, and I gave them my experience from Jacksonport. They all listened very much interested. Finally, one of the men who was standing close to me said, "I'll be darned if there isn't a bullet hole through your hat rim." As the guard was five miles from the main camp, and my horse w

n-law, Lewis Stafford, and had a good visit with him. T

n fired on me. The next day about 10 o'clock we came up on a high hill and at the bottom was the plantation house. I recognized it at once as being the one where the rebel captain tried to show his men how slick he could capture a Yankee. I rode up to Col. Wyman and pointed it out to him. "All right," said he, "you stay with me and we will make a neighborly call on him." We rode up under the same tre

re wou

scout who came along the other day, and

man now," sai

ached out his well arm and said, "Sha

said, "Now you are fixed all right. You can stay here and no one

me take my nigger along and I will

ll the particulars as we went along the road. He said his master's gu

, my own regiment, back to Jacksonport. I was glad to go back to my own regiment again. It was like getting home. I had no mishap but got there all right, went t

with me the next day. They wanted to know all about my trip. I receive

lonel Brackett sent word for me to come to h

e changed my mind in regard to sending you out on a foraging expedition. We have lost two very fine artillery horses, and I heard that they were some fo