leveled, and I was ordered to march. I was afraid to
halloo to the relief, and you may be sure I was in a bad fix.

Finally says I, "Let's play quits. I think you are a soldier; you look
like a gentleman. I am a videt; you know the responsibility resting on
me. You go your way, and leave me here. Is it a bargain?"

Says he, "I would not trust a Secesh on his word, oath, or bond. March,
I say."

I soon found out that he had caught sight of the relief on the road,
and was afraid to shoot. I quickly made up my mind. My gun was at my
feet, and one step would get it. I made a quick glance over my shoulder,
and grabbed at my gun. He divined my motive, and fired. The ball missed
its aim. He put spurs to his horse, but I pulled down on him, and almost
tore the fore shoulder of his horse entirely off, but I did not capture
the spy, though I captured the horse, bridle and saddle. Major Allen,
of the Twenty-seventh Tennessee Regiment, took the saddle and bridle,
and gave me the blanket. I remember the blanket had the picture of a
"big lion" on it, and it was almost new. When we fell back, as the
Yankee sharpshooters advanced, we left the poor old horse nipping the
short, dry grass. I saw a Yankee skirmisher run up and grab the horse
and give a whoop as if he had captured a Rebel horse. But they continued
to advance upon us, we firing and retreating slowly. We had several
pretty sharp brushes with them that day. I remember that they had to
cross an open field in our front, and we were lying behind a fence,
and as they advanced, we kept up firing, and would run them back every
time, until they brought up a regiment that whooped, and yelled, and
charged our skirmish line, and then we fell back again. I think we must
have killed a good many in the old field, because we were firing all the
time at the solid line as they advanced upon us.

BATTLE OF MURFREESBORO

The next day, the Yankees were found out to be advancing. Soon they came
in sight of our picket. We kept falling back and firing all day, and
were relieved by another regiment about dark. We rejoined our regiment.
Line of battle was formed on the north bank of Stone's River--on the
Yankee side. Bad generalship, I thought.

It was Christmas. John Barleycorn was general-in-chief. Our generals,
and colonels, and captains, had kissed John a little too often. They
couldn't see straight. It was said to be buckeye whisky. They couldn't
tell our own