had received at Johnson's Island.

The first night out we reached Spring Hill, which was then a courier
station, and were confined in an old church. One of the soldiers killed
a hog, which proceeding was an outrageous violation of orders, as well
as of the rights of the owner, but we had to eat. A guard and myself
went to a neighboring house to get a kettle in which to cook the meat.

The difference between pork and beef in that country was about the same
in those days as the difference between greenbacks and Confederate
money.

The guard found a negro woman in the house, and he asked for something
to eat. She gave us some beef and corn bread, but had no pork when asked
for it. In the course of the conversation the guard told her who I was
and about the escape of my companions and myself, when the darkey
remembered that there was some cold pork in an outhouse, and produced
it.

We got the necessary kettle and cooked our meat before we went on our
way.

After we had again started, the guards paroled us, and several of them
went home, appointing a meeting place and promising us more pork and
some biscuit when they returned, which promise they kept.

When we reached Magnolia we found a camp of about forty badly wounded
Federal prisoners there, who were the remnants of Steele's fight at
Jenkins' Ferry.

We were put in jail for several days to await a move of this camp to
Shreveport.

When all were ready the convalescent cases were loaded on wagons and we
started.

CHAPTER XXII.

FORAGING, AND A NEW PRISON.

During this trip our rations were salt beef and corn bread, but the
latter was unfit to eat, and I refused all rations, preferring to take
the chances of foraging until we reached Shreveport.

On the first day out we made about twelve miles. At dusk it commenced to
rain, and we camped in an old church at a cross roads. The wounded men
and ourselves were placed in one end of the building, they on one side
and we on the other, while the other end was used by our guards. They
piled up all their equipments in one corner, and spread their blankets
in the vacant space, then going off to a stillhouse in the neighborhood,
where they got gloriously drunk, and leaving only a sentinel at the
door.

When leaving Washington our party had been increased by three more
runaways, who bore the names of Robinson, Fenton and Stanton, so that we
were now six in all.

The guard at the door excited my envy, soon af