s,
chilled us to the bone. All were shivering and blue--no, I was green.
Before leaving Mr. Fetler's Wednesday morning I had donned a dark-green
calico. I wiped my face with a handkerchief out of my pocket, and face and
hands were all dyed a deep green. When Annie turned round and looked at me
she screamed and I realized how I looked; but she was not much better, for
of all dejected things wet feathers are the worst, and the plumes in her
hat were painful.

About five we reached Colonel K.'s house, right where Steele's Bayou
empties into the Yazoo. We had both to be fairly dragged out of the boat,
so cramped and weighted were we by wet skirts. The family were absent, and
the house was headquarters for a squad of Confederate cavalry, which was
also absent. The old colored housekeeper received us kindly and lighted
fires in our rooms to dry the clothing. My trunk had got cracked on top,
and all the clothing to be got at was wet. H. had dropped his in the river
while lifting it out, and his clothes were wet. A spoonful of brandy
apiece was left in the little flask, and I felt that mine saved me from
being ill. Warm blankets and the brandy revived us, and by supper-time we
got into some dry clothes.

Just then the squad of cavalry returned; they were only a dozen, but they
made much, uproar, being in great excitement. Some of them were known to
Max and H., who learned from them that a gunboat was coming to shell them
out of this house. Then ensued a clatter such as twelve men surely never
made before--rattling about the halls and galleries in heavy boots and
spurs, feeding horses, calling for supper, clanking swords, buckling and
unbuckling belts and pistols. At last supper was dispatched, and they
mounted and were gone like the wind. We had a quiet supper and good
night's rest in spite of the expected shells, and did not wake till ten
to-day to realize we were not killed. About eleven breakfast was
furnished. Now we are waiting till the rest of our things are dried to
start on our last day of travel by water.

_Sunday, July 20, 1862_.--A little way down the Yazoo on Friday we ran
into McNutt's Lake, thence into Chickasaw Bayou, and at dark landed at
Mrs. C.'s farm, the nearest neighbors of H.'s uncle. The house was full of
Confederate sick, friends from Vicksburg, and while we ate supper all
present poured out the story of the shelling and all that was to be done
at Vicksburg. Then our stuff was taken from the boat, and