establishment unfit for immediate use.

We passed the dangerous point five miles from town, just as day was
breaking. No Rebel cavalry confronted us in the highway, nor shouted
an unwelcome "halt!" from a roadside thicket. All was still, though we
fancied we could hear a sound of troops in motion far in the distance
toward Wilson Creek. The Rebels were doubtless astir, though they did
not choose to interfere with the retreat of our army.

As day broke and the sun rose, we found the people of both
complexions thronging to the road, and seeking, anxiously, the latest
intelligence. At first we bore their questions patiently, and briefly
told them what had occurred. Finding that we lost much time, we began,
early in the day, to give the shortest answers possible. As fast as
we proceeded the people became more earnest, and would insist upon
delaying us. Soon after mid-day we commenced denying we had been at the
battle, or even in Springfield. This was our only course if we would
avoid detention. Several residents of Springfield, and with them a
runaway captain from a Kansas regiment, had preceded us a few hours
and told much more than the truth. Some of them had advised the people
to abandon their homes and go to Rolla or St. Louis, assuring them
they would all be murdered if they remained at home.

In pursuance of this advice many were loading a portion of their
household goods upon wagons and preparing to precede or follow the
army in its retreat. We quieted their alarm as much as possible,
advising them to stay at home and trust to fortune. We could not
imagine that the Rebels would deal severely with the inhabitants,
except in cases where they had been conspicuous in the Union cause.
Some of the people took our advice, unloaded their wagons, and waited
for further developments. Others persisted in their determination to
leave. They knew the Rebels better than we, and hesitated to trust
their tender mercies. A year later we learned more of "the barbarism
of Slavery."

Southwest Missouri is a region of magnificent distances. A mile in
that locality is like two miles in the New England or Middle States.
The people have an easy way of computing distance by the survey lines.
Thus, if it is the width of a township from one point to another,
they call the distance six miles, even though the road may follow
the tortuosities of a creek or of the crest of a ridge, and be ten or
twelve miles by actual measurement.

From Sprin