"Shriver was a quiet man and no
one thought he was much of the soldier, but the occurrence
recorded above and is another proof to allow talks don't make the
best soldier. The next night we did not go into camp until after
dark. It so happened that our camp or most of it was in a
graveyard. In the morning we were up before Day, had a big fire to
cook breakfast, and while standing there, a half a dozen shots
were fired in among us, doing no damage. We scattered quickly to
get out of the light. I recollect stopping backward quickly been
falling into a sunken grave.
We always detailed a manner two to help the Negro cooks on
these long expeditions. John Mushour of our company was detailed
at this time. The next evening as we were marching along after
dark above Strasburg, where the river is narrow and no road closed
by to the bank, the cooks were in the rear as usual with the
prevision's and cooking utensils, when they were fired upon from
across the river. The next morning John was combing his head when
he found a sore place. He was brought to me and on examination
found a bird shot just under the skin that was easily extracted. I
asked him how it happened. He said he did not know unless it was
last night when those shots were fired across the river. I asked
him who was with him; he said "nobody but me and two other
niggers."
We got back to Harpers Ferry during the summer before Milroys
defense of Winchester. We were saddled and ready the whole day,
but we were not ordered to do anything. A short time after that
disastrous affair, a newly recruited regiment from Maryland, the
seventh to think, came to Harpers Ferry. Several of my men had
passes for they evening they came. A Jew from Baltimore had a
store word near where the new troop was camped. Some of the
seventh were acquainted with him. One of them slept with him that
night. My boys were coming to camp late, they stopped by to buy
something. The Jew would not get up to sell, the boys then fired
several shots through the door, and the soldiers looked out of the
window up stairs and he was shot dead. An hour or two afterwards
eight Nordic came to a rest Corporal Diehl for the murder. He was
taken and I really thought he was guilty, for he was reckless and
thoughtless, and I knew he had a pass for the night, but a court
Martial cleared him to or three weeks after words.
Thus seventh was sent to Charlestown in a few days. They were
green troops in some funny stories were told about their pickets.
They had not been there more than a month, when they were
surrounded by a considerable force of the enemy in nearly all were
captured. It was nearly an hour before the news reached the ferry.
We were the nearest and before we had orders to go from
headquarters we were in the saddle.
When orders came we started out went at double quick for seven
miles, and first as we came to the end of town and the last of the
Johnny's were going out of the other nearly a mile away. We
charged after at the other end of town. As we passed a high stone
wall that enclosed a cemetery a carbine was discharged and John
Bullar set up a pair terrific howl. We thought someone fired over
the wall, but soon found that John's own carbine had been
discharged and the ball and powder all went down through his foot
breaking the bones. The powder burned terribly making a, sever and
dangerous wound.
By this time, a three gun battery had caught up with us and a
regiment of Infantry were near. We did our best to recapture our
men but their rear guard was strong and we could not break
through. We would charge them again and again, not being able to
dislodge them, then the battery would give them shot and shell and
get them on the move. Then we would charge again then wheel out
for the battery. So it kept up for 8 or 1Omiles, when we had to
give up, being very hungry and nearly exhausted after such a hard
days work.
We had quite a number killed and wounded. William Flood of New
York one of my men was fatally wounded and before he died, he told
the boys it was him that fired the shot at the window in which the
7th Maryland soldier was killed that Corporal Diehl was tried and
acquitted for killing.
We with the New York Cavalry were stationed at Charlestown. On
our return from the fight we just went into the woods and lay down
with the root of a tree for a pillow. Sometime during the night I
was awaken by the report of a gun. On jumping up, the first thing
I heard was "You informal thief, I'll teach you to steal me
turkey." On investigation I found M. J. Fleegle had fired at the
first New York cavalry man who was trying to steal his rations
which he called turkey.
I went to sleep again, and upon waking in the morning, a found
the boys had made a raid, and they had half a barrel of turkey
nicely dressed in caught up ready for stewing. We had no way to
roast them. Six hams, a keg of wine, and a great big wash kettle.
I need not tell you we lived fine that day.
We were at our accustomed work scouting, fighting Baylor's and
Mosby's men, as usual, keeping them from destroying the B&O
Railroad, which they had gone once or twice before.
In one expedition near Middlesberg we came upon Mosby's men
drilling. We were a mile from them on a hill. They do not see us
until we were ready to charge down on them. They may charge toward
us but did not, for as we had a road that led through brush and
some high banks. By the time we got there not a soul was in sight
on the drill grounds.
Captain William Fiery of company B was badly hurt by being
thrown from his horse. In going back to camp we captured a Johnny
at a still. He had a canteen of whiskey, which was taken away from
him, and he soon became so drunk that he had to be held on his
horse. He died that night in our hospital from the effects of the
liquor.
Lieutenant Rivers had to canteen of whiskey, he was fond of the
drink, and he tried it, and found the awful. He wanted me to taste
it which I refused, but finally touched my tongue to perhaps a
half a drop and in two hours I was sick and I could not ride and
had to be taken home in a carriage with Captain Fiery.
The whiskey drinkers were so hard up and so thirsty whiskey was
made from anything. Pine Topps, potatoes, or anything that juice
could be extracted from.
We were in the mountains up the East side of the Shenandoah
river. We came to a sawmill that had been turned into a
distillery. We found six barrels of what smelled like whiskey, but
the boys who like to whiskey as well or better then they did their
mother's milk, refused to risk the stuff. They knocked that heads
in and poured it into the tall race.
Went on those expeditions we had many skirmishes, captured
quite a number of the enemy, and generally on our return tried to
destroy everything that would be of use to the enemy, and often
the boys found things not contraband of war, which stuck to their
pockets were saddlebags, but such as war and always will be.
Sometimes a dozen horses came along apparently willingly, even
if their owners were of contrary opinion. With regret I record
that many of them did not go to the quartermaster as they ought,
but were sent to Confederate and sold for private use. When I was
captured at Leesburg, after second my horse was taken a course, on
our return from one of our expeditions, A. N. Fitchey, one of my
boys came to me and said the rebels had taken my horse, and I was
certainly entitled to another from some rebel, and that he had
brought in a very fine large horse that I must have. I looked at
him and he certainly was a large horse and seemed to be very fine
stock of the draft line. I told him I would ride him to
quartermaster's with the rest, and if I liked him perhaps I would
keep him. I mounted, he had a majestic step, but so long and the
stride that he nearly broke my back going a mile, so I turned him
over with the rest. After the war Uncle Sam paid me $100 for the
horse I lost.
In the fall of 1863, we were sent from Bolivar Heights to
Londen Heights, East of the Shenandoah, to camp. General Sullivan
was in command, with headquarters at Harpers Ferry. As usual we
were kept going scouting the whole countryside for miles. We had
been rather unsuccessful, so it was thought a more extended scout
might be of benefit. It was thought that spies in the Hills would
see us start and guess where we were going, notify all interested
and therefore elude us.
I with 60 men, 30 from each company, were ordered to go to
Rectortown, 40 miles from camp. My orders were to take the
Hillsboro Road as if I was going there and as soon as it was dark
to leave the road and cut across to Levettsville, camp for the
balance of the night then go to Middlesburg and from there to
Rectortown.
We had a bad march on bad roads across country to Levettsville.
We arrived about to nine o'clock, took the best quarters we could
find. Early in the morning we were on the march. By 10 o'clock
Snow began to fall and later sleet and rain. By dusk we were 3
miles from Middlesburg, wet and very cold. This was the last day
of 1863, and it was the worst night I ever experienced during the
war.
We found a large house and a barn a few hundred yards from the
road. We conclude it would be a very good place to spend the
night, whether the occupants were of the same opinion or not made
very little difference. This place seemed inviting and we turned
in, found everything in plenty even a large wood pile.
We found two or three women the sole occupants. We treated them
with becoming litenss. Many of us spread our blankets on the floor
and slept well. I remember sleeping in a parlor with my feet to a
blazing fire, in a fine large fireplace. I also remember dreaming
a dream that was realized the next day. I thought we were in a
fight and that a large body of the enemy surrounded us and
completely routed us and captured many.
Early in the morning we were ready to move. The rain had ceased
but the roads were frozen and very rough. We soon reached
Middlesburg and had a fight there and captured three, had one man
wounded ( Jason McCullough). I sent him and three or four others
back with the prisoners. They got some whiskey and undertook to
fight a scouting party to large for them. They lost their
prisoners and all were captured except one (S. N. McNair). We went
on and found lots of rebels peeping at us from the bushes and
Hills. I soon found they would outnumber us, and also learned that
the rebel general Rosser with his whole brigade was within a few
miles of Rectortown, but a soldier must obey orders. Soon we were
within 2 miles of Rectortown. I sent Lieutenant S. N. McNair and
half a dozen volunteers into Rectortown and we prepared for a
return immediately. At press a Negro into service to show us a
shortcut through the field to Middlesburg. Lieutenant McNair
galloped into Rectortown, drove out a couple of soldiers and
returned in a short time, and we cut for camp, having found out it
would not be healthy to protract our stay. In passing through a
field I noticed several blue coated men riding along. I thought
they were my men, but found out differently. At the same time a
dozen or two, in the road. We had not gone a half of mile when the
rear guard notified me, that a large force was coming up.
I ordered a line formed behind a hill and went back to see.
Sure enough they were coming. As they appeared over the hill, we
commenced firing on them a drove the first back, but unfortunately
in the rain the day before about half of the carbines got wet, and
I neglected to see that the loads were drawn, and they would not
fire. On the second charge my men broke, and the finest race horse
anybody ever saw occurred about that time. I can speak more
particularly about myself, as everyone tried on his own back, to
get away. The horse I was riding was young in its first flight.
Shooting scared her and lent wings to her feet, which I rather
liked. I remember her jumping a gully 10 ft., and afterwords
climbing up a bank that was very steep from a stream, through
bushes, where I lost an excellent marine glass that cost to me $20
and my hat. The chase lasted for several miles. My horse frantic
all the time. Lieutenant McNair and myself in the rear. Several
rebels followed firing at us occasionally. We tried to head off a
dozen or more of our own men and captured them, but it was no use.
Soldiers like sheep, when started cannot a stopped.
I entered the woods and my horse was running straight toward a
big tree, which I felt sure in her excited condition she did not
see. I drew the reins but she did not yield, and I had to when in
a few feet of it, give a hard pull. She sprang aside and threw me
out of a saddle, and while hanging on the side of the horse, she
nearly ran my head against another tree and by a superhuman effort
I regained my seat, but before I had the stirrups, I had to guild
her away from another tree. She sprung again and this time I went
to far and fell on my heard, stunning me considerably. A minute or
two elapsed before I could get up. When I did I was dazed and two
rebels were over me with, I am sure empty revolvers or I would not
be writing today. They demanded my pistols. I told them I was an
officer and my pistols were in my holsters on my horse. Just then
I saw my horse going through the woods, saddle flaps and holsters
out like wings. I said there goes my horse if you want them you
must catch her. They ordered me back to the other prisoners and
away they went. I looked after them until they were out of sight,
and I Said to myself you would be a big fool to go back willingly,
so I looked for a hiding place and found a large log that suited
me, and I laid down in the leaves to think. I soon fell asleep,
but was soon aroused by a noise. I awoke still dazed for a moment,
peeping under the log I say my two friends on their horses not
more than twenty yards away, looking all over the woods. After a
minute, which seemed to me an hour, they seemed to be satisfied
that I had obeyed orders and they rode off.
Here I was alone forty miles from camp on foot considerably
hurt, and in an enemy’s country, and surrounded by the enemy. It
was between 3 and 4 o’clock pm and in less than an hour turned
awful cold. I lay for a short time thinking my head and shoulders
were badly bruised and did not think very fast, but finally came
to the conclusion, that as I had told the rebels I was an officer
they might go back and find none. The would come to hunt me and I
had better change my position. I peeped cautiously around and
found all clear. I walked to the edge of the woods for further
reconnaissance. I could see the chimneys of the houses in
Middleburg, took a good look for a hiding place until dark,
finally concluded to go out in a field beside the wood and lay in
briar thicket, thinking no one would look for a fellow in an open
field, which proved correct. I had not been lying down long before
I saw a blue coated man walking across the field, first thought it
was one of my men, and opened my mouth to call, but snapped it
shut quicker than a wink, remembering that many of the Rebs had
blue coats on. I watched him until out of sight, not coming nearer
than 100 years of my hiding place.
The cold was becoming intense and to lie still savored much of
freezing. To get up and run about was dangerous, to start for camp
was equally so. To keep from freezing I lay on my back and pounded
my heel vigorously on the ground alternately. I though of the
thrashing rye with a frail as the thumps cam to the ground one
after another.
The sun was nearing the horizon and I must soon be on the
march. On foot which was always repugnant to a cavalryman, I
always loose the points of the compass in a strange place, but I
know Middleburg was nearly due south of Harper’s Ferry, so I set
up a stick as near perpendicular as I could and knew that the
shadow would be east, and a line across would be north and south,
sighted some object off in the distance to the north and watched
it, and as soon as dusk spread its mantle, I without a hat took up
my lonesome march of forty miles to camp, and oh! So cold. A brisk
walk of a mile or two straight across the country set my blood in
motion, and if my head and shoulders had not hurt me I think by
sunrise next moment I could have said, the top of the morning
"Till yose" to General Sullivan at Harpers Ferry.
In about an hour however my hips were blasted. I ran right into
Goose Creek swollen more then bank full and sick with slush ice. I
was the arm in the first thought was made through. I look at the
angry water for a moment before I would plunge in. When the
thought struck me, it must be a darned long Creek that has no
bridge or foot log. But shall I go up or down the stream, that’s
the question. I concluded that had better go towards the Potomac,
so down the stream I went, climbing fences tearing through brush
and weeds. Soon I noticed a light, I cautiously approached, and
found a small log cabin. Peeping in the window I saw a man, wife
and three children seated at the table eating supper. I got hungry
on the jump, knocked at the door. Wife and children disappeared,
but the man came to the door. The looked astonished to see me, my
head tied up in a handkerchief. I boldly stepped in and told him I
wanted something to eat. Soldier style you know, either north or
south, help yourself was the answer. I about cleaned the platters,
knowing I had a big job before me, and no certainty of when or
where the next commissary was. During the meal I found he knew all
about our fight and its results and I knew he suspected was one of
the defeated. After supper I offered to buy his hat which I did
for a quarter, an awfully dilapidated gray, gone to seed so bad
that a connoisseur could not have painted out the line where brim
ended or crown began, but just then it was all the world of a hat
for me. I out to state here that I had seventy dollars and a
splendid five dollar pair of spurs in my pockets. I had ripped the
inside of my vest pocket and stowed the money down in the lining
and the spurs were in the bottom of my inside coat pocket. I was
determined to save all from the Johnies if they did recapture me,
if I could. But I guess they would have swapped clothes with me if
they had got me, but I hoped they would not find the money.
Well as my landlord of the supper and hat was a very poor man
hired to a big land owner, to keep out of the service just at his
board and clothes, of course he was a union man, but dare not open
his mouth. I guessed this. I then told who I was and all about the
fight and wanted to hire him to go with me five miles to a place I
knew. He said "I dare not do it, my boss would know it before
sun-down tomorrow and I would have to go to the army." I pitied
the poor fellow, but I wanted help, so I laid a ten dollar bill on
the table and said you can have that if you will go with me and I
do not think you can be found out.
His eyes glistened as he looked at the crisp green-back. His
answer was, oh I need the money so bad but I dare not go. At this
juncture his wife and three children appeared through the door.
She stepped up to the table and said, "You are liberal, but John
can’t go, he might be caught then what would I do with these
little children, for under the circumstances I could not get work
or any assistance." I could say no more. I had no change but the
quarter and nickle or two. I gave her them, then turning to the
man said, "Give me the best directions you can to find a crossing
of the creek, and I will go." He did so, which I found no
difficulty in following, even to climbing ten rail stake and rider
fences, coming out as slick as a button at a good crossing near
Pot House.
I noticed a light at the house, and on coming up close found a
horse and wanted to "git", but on reflection concluded to play
infantry while in the enemy’s country, so that I could the better
dodge corners in case of pursuit, and I did not know the country
well enough to run any risks.
I should have stated that my host of the supper and hat told me
it was Col. Mosby’s men we fought with, and I found out later it
was Col. Mosby’s horse that was hitched at the gate at Pot House.
All I have to say is, had I known it was Col. Mosby’s horse he
would certainly have been compelled to borrow another to get to
camp, or overhauled me on the road.
Mine host of supper and hat, had directed me several miles
beyond Pot House, but in the night I could not see where roads
forked in the woods, no fences many places. I walked several hours
when I found myself on the north bank of Goose Creek and perhaps
as far from camp as when I started. I was tired, so to better
think, I raked a pile of leaves in a fence corner, lay down in
them and thought on this wise - what the duce good will it do me
to walk backwards and forwards, and perhaps be just where I
started tomorrow morning, and likely right afterwards be right
among a dozen of Mosby’s men with not a thing to defend myself
with. Now old fellow if that is likely to be the case, let us do
it up tonight, before I walk all of the life out of me.
I’ll just go right back to a gate (all gates in Va. led to the
farmhouse) on this road, and I’ll rouse them up and see what can
be done. I jumped up considerably refreshed and found the gate and
marched across the field by the road, and at a half mile’s
distance found the usual farm building of a well to do Va. farmer.
I boldly knocked at the door, an old negro woman in night clothes
opened the door, a fire was covered in the fire place, three or
four beds in the room all occupied by negro slaves.
I asked the one who opened the door if her master was a Union
man. She said "No sah". I told her to call him. She did so and in
about fifteen minutes he appeared. After salutation and asking
pardon for disturbing him, I told him plainly my condition he said
he had been to Middleburg and heard all about it, and that he did
not think that more than half of my men got away, which was about
the truth , as I afterward learned. I have not the data at hand
just now and cannot give the number captured.
I asked him to give me plain directions to get to Goose Creek
Quaker meeting house. He said, "You want assistance, so do I, you
help me and I will help you." I answered "I will if I can, speak
on." "I can direct you where you want to go plainly, you can, as
an officer help me." "Now we are sorely in need of calico, muslin,
pants stuff, some groceries, and I cannot get them at Point of
Rocks, Md. unless I have an order from a commissioned officer
stating that I want them for my own family. Now all these things
we want awful bad, and I assure you that they shall be used
sacredly by my family and no other. Will you give me an order?" I
said yes, that I would. He produced writing materials and I wrote
the order. I wish I could now if he got the goods. Also I wish I
could remember his name. He then proceeded to map out the road in
a very plain manner, which I found no difficulty in following as
the night was clear. He said that under other circumstances he
would like me to stay all night, but it would be dangerous for me
and himself as well. He gave me some rations to carry along. It
was after 11 o’clock when I bid him good night and took up the
lonesome march.
When I came to a little village by the name of Union, the dogs
set up such a barking I feared capture by passing through so as
there was only about a dozen houses I did like the Irishman with
the three Mexicans. I surrounded it, and left the dogs and the
sleeping citizens to fight it out. Oh! But it was getting cold as
one point after another was reached. But I began to feel good. By
about four o’clock I began to slow, my heavy boots seemed to weigh
a ton, my throat was parched. I would stop and break the ice at
puddles in the road and drink. My beard would freeze in the water,
but I pulled bravely on, being encouraged by coming to places my
friend said was on the road. I came to a mill he spoke of, and as
I passed the stable a horse inside neighed, a very steep hill just
at the stable was almost more than I could make on foot. I looked
at the stable and thought that the horse could take me through,
but it was so cold, I feared I would freeze on horseback so I
plodded on.
For three hours more I dew my weary legs, one after the other
over the frozen ground stopping now and then to rest for a few
minutes, knowing that I must keep moving or freeze. Just as the
sun appeared on that cold January morning Goose Creek Meeting
House appeared.
John Howard Payne may have felt happy in composing "Home Sweet
Home" but I know he did not feel half as happy as I did when that
old church appeared that morning. For its members made it "Home
Sweet Home" to us union soldiers at all times. I was personally
acquainted with some of the friends who worshiped there. After the
lapse of more than a quarter of a century, the sweet recollection
of that morning there, almost worn out by walking and the cold
comes up like an oasis in the burning sandy desert to the weary
traveler and never, not ever so long as reason lasts shall the
sweet recollection pass from me. Dear old Goose Creek Meeting
house and your uncommon kind friends, members how I would like to
visit you.
I would neither choice or slow in selecting a house to ask
assistance. I knocked at the door of the nearest one. It was
opened by a lady who surveyed me somewhat suspiciously. My green
hat was almost too much for a Quaker, even if he had blue
everywhere else. I was invited in. One or more persons were in the
room. I told them who I was and I was in a very dilapidated
condition, which was manifest, and that I wanted a dry dock to lay
up for repairs in the shape of a little coffee and some bread and
meat then a bed anywhere. I noticed my story was hardly credited
but I cared little, if my request was granted.
In a very short time the inner man was cared for, and a bed
pointed out which I hardly waited to undress to occupy. Soon all
was lost. I knew nothing of this world’s happenings until the
afternoon when I was awakened by a call at my bedside. Looking up
a kindly face met my gaze and a pleasant voice said "How does thee
feel now"? Before answering I took a good look at the men. And
found it was a Mr. Steer whom I met before. My reply came in an
effort to turn and get up but I was so stiff I could hardly move,
but a twist or two got me up. I was told it was after dinner, but
a table with some provisions was awaiting me. Addressed in when I
attempted to draw my boots on my feet would hardly go down the
leg. They were fearfully swollen. But my friends were not long in
finding a substitute in the shape of a pair of large gum over
shoes that fit exactly. Then equipped I entered the dining room to
meet a number of could friends. After congratulations and mutual
regrets at my misfortune we set down to a splendid dinner. And I
need not tell you I did ample justice to it. While eating,
arrangements were made for my departure, which was that Mr. Steer
with a two seated two horse carriage, an old grey overcoat, my Bee
green hat, and gum overshoes as disguise would be about the proper
thing. Almost as soon as said it was done. The carriage was at the
door. My boots and overcoat were stowed in the box, myself on the
back seat, a laborer going to Waterford to do some work, provided
we were questioned by any scouting Rebs.
Waterford was the home of Capt. Means, and many of his men,
also a very home indeed to us blue coats, especially at the
hospitable home of John B. Dutton, with his happy greeting, his
estimable wife, (now dead), his sprightly and lovable daughters,
all married now and doing well, and his manly son, James, who was
in the army, Quaker as he was.
Well a little after dark we drove up to Mr. Duttons’ stable.
Mr. Steer had to introduce me for even John did not recognize me.
He was always in for fun, after taking a laugh, he said "Now don’t
tell my family who the Captain is, but introduce him as your
friend, let’s see who will recognize him." I was duly ushered into
the sitting room according to program, keeping my hat on, which is
no breed of politeness among the friends. We talked of matters in
general. Mr. Dutton watching each one with twinkling eyes, waiting
the denouncement after a half hour perhaps, little Annie went to
her mother’s side and said, "I believe that is Capt. Hunter."
Mother stared searchingly at me. John burst into laughter. I threw
off my hat and grey overcoat and then we had a rollicking time for
a while. Oh! To think of those bright spots in a soldier’s hard
life makes one’s old rheumatic joints supple and I seem to be a
boy again.
Supper being announced we repaired to the dining room, where we
enjoyed a delicious repast, made more agreeable by kind and
interesting conversation, and plans for the morrow to get me to
Harper’s Ferry. It was agreed that Mr. Steer should take me to the
Point of Rocks where a ferry would take me across, then up to the
B&O railroad to Harper’s Ferry. After a good night’s rest a
splendid breakfast, some homemade light rolls in my pockets, we
were on the road soon after sunrise. I recollect thinking as we
rode along what shall I pay Mr. Steer. I feared an offer of money
would not be acceptable for refused, for bear in mind those
Quakers did not help us for love of gain, but pure and unalloyed
patriotism. Would to God, more were like them even now, when it is
very easy to be patriotic if one only wills to be. But I am sorry
to record that my observations for the past twenty years or more
convince me that patriotism is a secondary thing and selfish,
ungrateful greed is the rule in high and responsible positions as
much or more than in middle or low life.
But to return, I thought of this matter of compensation
seriously, finally I concluded my spurs would be something he
could keep, and as much as a Cavalryman dislikes to lose or part
with his spurs by concluded to offer them, which he had first
refused, but him I would not feel satisfied if the did not take
them, he consented to accept them as a gift. I had noticed a very
fine pocket knife that fell out of my pocket in the carriage,
which I left there for him. On the Virginia side at Point of
Rocks, I bade by kind friend and perhaps ought to add preserver a
reluctant farewell, boarded the boat and amid floating ice was
seen on the Maryland side.
A passing train seen carried me to Harper’s Ferry. I reported
to General Sullivan, it was much surprised as I had been reported
shot were captured. The fact is the cape of my coat was lined with
a red flannel, and Lt. McNair told me afterwards when he saw me
fall from my horse the cape went over my head and he supposed the
red was blood from a wound. But although bruised, very stiff and
sore all over I was still rather lively spirited. I told the
colonel all about the affair as I had seen it. He seemed satisfied
and complimented me on my pluck, told me to take a week or two for
rest and be ready for another exploit."
Read Part 4
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other articles by John Miller