for beef, and
cantered away, leaving behind only the cook and the first two guards.

What an evening and night that was! As we passed up the creek, we
sighted in the gathering twilight the camp-fires of Sponsilier and my
brother, several miles apart and south of the stream. When we reached
Forrest's wagon the clans were gathering, The Rebel and his crowd being
the last to come in from above. Groups of saddle horses were tied among
the trees, while around two fires were circles of men broiling beef over
live coals. The red-headed cook had anticipated forty guests outside of
his own outfit, and was pouring coffee into tin cups and shying biscuit
right and left on request. The supper was a success, not on account of
the spread or our superior table manners, but we graced the occasion
with appetites which required the staples of life to satisfy. Then we
smoked, falling into groups when the yarning began. All the fresh-beef
stories of our lives, and they were legion, were told, no one group
paying any attention to another.

"Every time I run a-foul of fresh beef," said The Rebel, as he settled
back comfortably between the roots of a cottonwood, with his back to its
trunk, "it reminds me of the time I was a prisoner among the Yankees.
It was the last year of the war, and I had got over my first desire to
personally whip the whole North. There were about five thousand of
us held as prisoners of war for eleven months on a peninsula in the
Chesapeake Bay. The fighting spirit of the soldier was broken in
the majority of us, especially among the older men and those who had
families. But we youngsters accepted the fortunes of war and were glad
that we were alive, even if we were prisoners. In my mess in prison
there were fifteen, all having been captured at the same time, and many
of us comrades of three years' standing.

"I remember the day we were taken off the train and marched through the
town for the prison, a Yankee band in our front playing national airs
and favorites of their army, and the people along the route jeering us
and asking how we liked the music. Our mess held together during the
march, and some of the boys answered them back as well as they could.
Once inside the prison stockade, we went into quarters and our mess
still held together. Before we had been there long, one day there was a
call among the prisoners for volunteers to form a roustabout crew. Well,
I enlisted as a roustabout. We had to report to an of