Released on parole; On the lookout; Reaches Helena, Ark.; Aboard the steamer; Black coffee; Reaches Vicksburg; Finds one man who believes him; In ten miles of Newton; On the Mobile and Ohio; More trouble; Reaches home.

THAT was the best news I had ever heard. The Captain accompanied me to the front door and said: "You can go out of the front gate there, or you can take this path and go through the grove." I looked down the path and saw the scouts passing the gap, and just as I got to the gap all of them had passed except one. I said to him: "I saw a Yankee in the river bottom yesterday." He said: "Do you know who he was?" I said: "No, but I might know the name, if I heard it." He said: "Was it Ike Reader?" I said: "Yes, that was the name I heard a man call." So he put spurs to his horse and went to the head of the column shouting as he went: "Old Ike Reader is at home." I judge they had heard that he was home on furlough and were going after him.

Twenty-four miles wasn't much of a walk so I sauntered along through the day and just at dark came up to the pickets. They were raw recruits, whom I suppose had never known duty before. They had stacked their guns and built a fire and were out in the woods gathering wood to burn through the night. They were frightened nearly to death. I could have captured them without any difficulty. I told them they were the fellows I was hunting for and that I wanted to surrender. Three of them took me back about a mile and let me go to bed, while they sat up and watched me all night.

RELEASED ON PAROLE.

Next morning they carried me back several miles to the company of Capt. Hunter. I found him to be an old veteran of Mexican war. He had recruited a company and was up there in Stoddard County drilling them and enlisting other men before going South. When I told him my story, he said: "I will release you on parole of honor, that you will not leave the camp. You will be safer with us than traveling alone. In a little while we will go down the river to Helena, Ark. That will be right on your road. I will take you in my mess and you will be treated right." Such kindness on the part of a perfect stranger, under the circumstances, was unusual and greatly encouraging to me. The next afternoon the scouts came along with their man. They had found him at home. He was there on a furlough. I saw their Captain and ours talking very animatedly for probably thirty minutes and as he rode off, he said: "He is mine by rights, and I am going to have him." When he was gone the Captain took me into his tent and asked me if I had met those scouts. I related to him the circumstance of my going through the grove at Bloomfield, rather than through the front gate, which would have caused me to meet the head of the column. I did it only from convenience, not from any fears that I had. He replied: "You certainly were fortunate in going through that grove. The Captain of that Company is nothing more than a marauder, although he wears the Confederate uniform. It is his custom, when he meets a civilian anywhere, to kill him, but he will take a Federal soldier prisoner. I will not ask you to enlist with us, but you be just as one of our soldiers. Have you a gun ready at hand with ammunition and whenever you see those scouts, don't expose yourself. We will pass and repass them on the trip south, no doubt, and he is mean enough to shoot you down. We are going to protect you." That the Captain was not mistaken in the man, I soon discovered. We saw a suttler pass our camp one day, and just a little later saw this Captain with his scouts going in the same direction. It was not a great while before we heard pistol shots and presently they came back and our men learned from them that the Captain had taken the suttler out into the woods and shot him, leaving his wagon standing in the road. He was a harmless fellow who was gathering up chickens and eggs and butter, and selling them wherever he could, sometime to the Federals and sometimes to the Confederates.

ON THE LOOKOUT.

You may be sure I was on the lookout. The number of Yankees that they had as prisoners increased to probably twenty-five. When the companies assembled to start South under General Thompson, sometimes these scouts were ahead and sometimes in the rear. They passed and repassed us. Word went down the line whenever they were approaching, "Crump, look-out" and I was always ready. The old Yankee soon found out that I was the man who had told on him and learned my name and he would shout when he came in sight of me, "Hello, Crump," and I would reply, "Hello, Ike." The first service I did after joining the Confederate army at Columbus, Miss., was to guard the Federal prisoners, and who should I find there but old Ike Reader.

REACHES HELENA, ARK.

It was several weeks before we reached Helena, Ark. There I ate breakfast with the boys, the morning before they went up the river. I could have secured rations if I had thought of it. I learned afterwards a soldier was satisfied so long as his stomach was full. I went to see Gen. Thompson, however, and got from him a paper, stating that I had come to them up in Missouri, that I was on my way to my friends in Mississippi, and commending me to people wherever I went. I could have gotten transportation from him if I had thought of it, but never dreamed that I could be hungry again or ever have need to ride anymore. I remained all that day and night, sleeping on the wharf boat, and the next day, without anything to eat. I did not have the courage to beg. That was the only quality of the tramp that I had not learned.

BOARDED THE STEAMER.

About 2 o'clock I went to the hotel intending to ask for dinner. While I was sitting there, trying to work up courage enough to approach the clerk, I heard a boat coming down and hastened away and boarded the steamer, H. D. Mears. As she was pulling off, I approached the Captain and showed him my paper from Gen. Thompson. He made the atmosphere blue with profanity. He said it was simply absurd, that I had forged that paper, that Gen. Thompson would not have given me that paper without giving me transportation too, he almost made me believe he was right. It did seem absurd. Then I asked him to credit me with my transportation to Vicksburg, to give me the address of some one to whom I might send the money. He replied, "I would not credit my grand-mammy."

The river was high and boats could not approach land. Seeing a skiff coming over from the Arkansas side, from where a landing was supposed to be, thinking that he was going to put me off, I approached him and asked that he put me off on the Mississippi side, as I was afoot. His reply was, "I am not going to put you off; you can ride as far as you want to ride, to —— if you want to." I felt that he was very much more likely to go there than I. I told him I had asked for nothing except the privilege to ride.

TAKES FEVER.

He replied: "How are you going to get any grub?" I answered that I did not know. I was too independent to let him know that I needed some just at that time. Being exposed to the weather and drinking Mississippi water and doing without food brought on fever, which I had all the night. The next morning I was in a desperate condition. The desire for food had given place to a feeling that I'd as soon die as not. Late in the afternoon, I began to feel a delirium stealing over me. It seemed all like a dream to me; could not tell where I was. I knew it was for the want of something to eat. I had sense enough left to know that the kitchen was the place to find relief, so I found my way to the door, and stood there looking into the face of the old negro man, a perfect giant in appearance. I said: "Uncle, I am on this boat without a cent of money, and haven't had anything to eat for three days; I am sick and about to die." He looked me all over from head to foot, then put a stool up to the table and said in a commanding tone: "Set down there."

BLACK COFFEE.

I wasn't used to being ordered about by negroes that way, but I took no offense on that occasion. He filled a quart cup with the blackest coffee I ever saw, put three tablespoonsful of sugar into it, stirred it and sat it before me and said: "Drink that." I guess he must have seen cases like mine before. I commenced to sip the coffee, for it was too hot to drink. I shall never forget that cup of coffee while I live. The very first sip seemed to go to the ends of my fingers and toes; it thrilled me through and through. As I drank I could not restrain my tears. When I was through, in about half an hour, I was in a profuse perspiration. I looked at the three large pieces of steak, as big as my hand and four hot rolls, and said: "Uncle, if I should eat that meat, I am sure I would die in half an hour. If you have no objections, I will put it in my overcoat pocket and eat it at my leisure." He said: "That is just the thing for you to do." Thanking him, I departed, and commenced reaching in my pocket, pulling off pieces of steak, chewing it and swallowing the juice. I "chawed" all night, in my waking moments. When I went to sleep, I was chewing that meat. At sun rise the next morning, I found myself at Vicksburg, with no fever and as hungry as a wolf. I went out like Pat, "in quest of a breakfast, for me appetite." I was determined never to speak to another man. I was like that fellow who said, "the more he knew about men, the better he liked dogs." So many of them did not believe my story and took it out in cursing that I was thoroughly disgusted with them. Seeing the sign: "Mrs. Roebecker, Private Boarding," I took a seat in an old store nearby and watched the door until all the boarders came out. How like a tramp! I approached the door and was received very graciously by the kind lady, who gave me a good breakfast. When she asked me how I was going to get home, I replied, "I am going to walk." She protested, "No, don't do anything of the kind. Go up and see Mr. ——, the superintendent of the railroad. He is a kind, nice gentleman, and I am sure he will help you on your way." I plucked up courage enough to speak to the Superintendent, and found him just as the lady said, a perfect gentleman.

FINDS ONE MAN WHO BELIEVED HIM.

He said: "Of course, my son; I will give you a ticket, sign this due bill, and we will send it over to our agent, Dr. Watts at Newton Station, and your people can pay it after you get home." I shall never forget his kindly expression, and the effect it had on me. My tears are not usually very shallow, but kindness always humbled me and brought out the tears. I got aboard the train and in a little while fell asleep. I slept all the afternoon. Don't remember passing Brandon or Jackson or any place.

IN TEN MILES OF NEWTON.

About ten o'clock at night some soldiers came on the crowded train. One took a seat in the aisle on his knap-sack right by me. I said, "How far is it to Newton?" He said, "Ten miles." After a while I heard the brakeman call out "Chunky Station." I said: "How far is it from Newton now?" He said, "Why, fellow, it is twenty miles, you have passed Newton." By the time I got myself together, the train was under way again, so I remained seated until I got to Meridian. I remembered that Meridian was just above Enterprise, and there I knew one man. Seeing a train on the M. & O. just ready to start for Mobile, I made a rush and got aboard and took my seat among a lot of soldiers. Presently the conductor came in with his lantern, calling, "tickets," and

MY TROUBLES BEGAN AGAIN.

I showed him my paper from General Thompson, and said to him: "You know Mr. Edmondson, who keeps the hotel at Enterprise, I hired a horse and buggy from him two years ago to go out to Garlandsville. I am sure I can get the money and leave it anywhere you say, if you will let me pass on." He was another man that did not attend prayer meeting. He said, "No, sir, Edmondson is dead, you are lying anyhow and now get off at the wood station." There was a Sergeant on board, in charge of some soldiers, who took an interest in me. He said: "Captain, I have more transportation than I have men; let this man go on my transportation." He said: "No sir, he has got to get off. He is spinning a yarn. Who ever heard of a man coming back from California without money." So I got off, and when the train started, I stepped up on the back-platform. It was only a little while before we reached Enterprise. I saw the conductor standing on the platform, with his lantern, and I walked boldly by him. He easily detected me, as I had on a fur cap, very uncommon in the South, He said: "Are you ready to pay me, sir?" I replied: "No." He said: "If you are a gentleman, you will do as you said you would do. Leave that money here with Mr. Jackson, who keeps the eating house." I said: "I am not a gentleman now since you made me steal a ride, gentlemen don't do that way."

THEN HE COMMENCED CURSING.

I threw myself back with my thumbs under my arms and said: "Now, blaze away and when you think you have cursed out the value of your ticket, let me know and I will pass on." That was about one o'clock in the morning. Presently the engineer rang his bell and the Captain jumped on, shaking his fist at me as the train pulled out. I responded by shaking both my fists at him. That is my way of keeping out of a row with a conductor, wait until he gets off. Of course I was very mad while he was cursing, but I was in no condition to fight.

---

I went to the hotel and registered my name like a gentleman: "W. B. Crumpton, San Francisco, Cal." When I awoke the next morning, and looked into a glass, for the first time in six weeks, I was like Pat, when he said: "Pat, is this you, or is it somebody else?" I had been over the camp-fires and my face was smoked and greasy, and I looked more like a negro than a white man. By diligent use of soap and water, I got myself clean down to my collar. I had an old woolen comforter, that I had worn around my neck. I turned it wrong side out, pinned it close around my throat, spread it over the front of my dirty shirt, buttoned my coat and, imagine I made a right decent appearance. I took my seat at the table, crowded with people. I have no recollection when anybody got up. I came to myself after a while, when I asked for another biscuit, I looked at the negroes, whose eyes were almost popping out, and I realized that I was the only one at the table. I looked at the astonished lady at the end of the room and stammered out: "Is this Mrs. Edmondson? Excuse me please, I am nearly starved." She insisted on my eating more, but I didn't have the face to do it. I said: "Mrs. Edmondson, do you remember a boy coming here two years ago and hiring a horse and buggy to go out to Garlandsville?" She said: "Yes, I remember you well." I told her my story, and asked her to credit me until my people could send her the money, to which she readily consented.

REACHES HOME.

I journeyed on for twenty-four miles and late that afternoon came to my brother-in-law's home. They were all looking for me. I had separated at Panama with a man by the name of Simpson, who had been a commission merchant in Mobile, and I had given him a letter. He went across to Aspenwall, thence to Havana, and ran the blockade into Mobile. I had discussed doing that with my brother before I left San Francisco, but he advised very much against it.

I started from Beloit the 6th of March and reached home on the 23rd of April, traveling probably a thousand or twelve hundred miles, much of it on foot. As I spun my yarn that night around the fire-side, my sister said, "Brother, why didn't you ask Mrs. Edmondson to send you out in a buggy?" I said, "Bless my life, I never thought of it until you mentioned it." I had gotten so used to traveling afoot, it made no difference.

It was not long before I found a recruiting officer, Lieutenant John McIntosh, and gave him my name. At the appointed time, I took the train at Newton for Columbus, Miss., where on May 1862, I joined Company H., of the 37th Mississippi Infantry. I had a mind to join an Alabama regiment, but my people insisted on my enlisting in a Mississippi Regiment, so that they might more easily hear from me. The Lieutenant promised me a thirty days furlough to visit my Alabama kin as soon as I was enlisted at Columbus. After I had signed my name, he said, "Wash, do you want your furlough now?" I said, "No, you might get in a battle while I was gone, or the war might be over before I returned, so I will not take it." That furlough never came, except on two or three occasions afterwards, when I was wounded. Some day I may take the time to write out another story about, "What the boy saw after he got through the lines to the Confederacy," you may depend upon it, he saw sights. I was one of two or three in my regiment who could sing. Many a night, sitting around the Camp Fires, the weary hours were passed by singing Camp songs. Only two of these do I remember now.

"GOOBER PEAS"

was one of the most popular. It ran about this way:

"GOOBER PEAS."

---