arned that Price's army was at Spring Hill, and we told them that
we were members of his "walking company," as the rebels called Price's
infantry.

As our feet were wet from our walk through the marsh, we got away from
this crowd as soon as possible and went over to the camp of an old woman
for the purpose of getting permission to dry our clothes and shoes. The
favor was granted on application, and we sat there chatting with the
woman and her sons until we were thoroughly dried out. During this talk
we learned that these refugees were disposed to be quite bitter toward
the Texans for the lack of sympathy and hospitality which they thought
should be forthcoming on account of the abuse and persecution which they
had suffered for their Southern sympathies.

After we had dried ourselves sufficiently, we borrowed a brand from the
fire and went off to make a camp of our own.

On our way to a choice spot we met a sick soldier, who was on a furlough
and who had a canoe. He offered to take us with him across the balance
of the swamp, but we declined, because we did not wish to cultivate his
acquaintance and because of our friend Miller.

We waded into the swamp and went at least a mile before we found dry
land, when we picked out a secluded spot, lit a fire and again dried
ourselves thoroughly, going off to some tangled oaks for a sleep while
we waited for night.

Our location was now about ten miles from Boston, and I knew the road;
so we dozed off, in the confidence of apparent security.

I was awakened by a sound which startled me, and as I listened, it
proved to be a rustle in the underbrush, heard at intervals, and the
sound of a bell. The others were called by me, and we hid more securely,
as the footsteps of a man were now to be heard. Soon we saw a most
cadaverous, tall and poverty-stricken looking individual approaching in
an erratic manner, and we could now hear his low-toned mutterings as he
darted here and there. As the lower portion of his body came into view
we saw that he was driving an old sow, with a bell attached to her neck,
and that he carried an old rifle, with its stock tied on with strings.
He seemed to be one of the refugees who had been after his stray hog,
and we arose from our concealment and approached him.

He was literally dressed in rags, and was inclined to be scared at our
appearance, but we soon pacified him, and had an interesting
conversation, during which we learned his whole history.