I was soon at the General's quarters, and waked him out of a sound nap—the only time I ever found him asleep, though I have visited his quarters at all hours of the day and night. He was pleased with what I had done, and sent me away for a little rest and sleep, previous to starting out again.

In a few hours we started out with a detachment of cavalry and some infantry, among which was the 10th Ohio, mounted in wagons; and I have no doubt but we should have caught John right there, and thus addled the embryo general in the shell, but, as luck would have it, we met Colonel Wood, with the dispatches from Hardee to Buell, with Morgan, and about thirty picked men, as an escort. We halted, and then returned and delivered the dispatches to General Mitchell, who was not at all gratified at our meeting, as the Johnnies would know at once that we were meditating an attack on them.

While Colonel Wood and the General were talking, one of Morgan's men broke from the rear and started back to Murfreesburro, at his best speed; but anticipating something of that kind, Colonel Kennett had quietly sent a few men down the road, in the rear of the rebels, one of whom caught the Johnnie and brought him back to our camp. Morgan and Wood were astounded at the man's conduct; and General Mitchell was in a rage at the man's treachery, and held the officers responsible for it. He now had an excellent opportunity to keep the whole party as prisoners of war, and he submitted the subject to General Buell, who overruled him, and Morgan was allowed to return to his command, and he "skedaddled" without delay, and subsequently caused us much anxiety of mind, and many hard marches.

Soon after this, Captain Robie was sent with Company A, of the 4th Ohio Cavalry, to McMinnville, on a scout, and I was one of the party. The remainder of the regiment went to Tullahoma, and other parts, and we were to concentrate at that place. At McMinnville, we heard of some commands of rebels in our immediate vicinity, any one of which was superior to us in number. I had not started from camp with the Captain, but coming in with a small body of scouts, who had been detailed by Colonel Kennett, to serve with me, I was told to push on and overtake him as speedily as possible. He had passed through McMinnville several hours before I got there; and while I was ascertaining which road he had taken, I was warned of the near approach of a party of rebels, by several persons—some of doubtful loyalty. I replied that we were fighting men and that we would be glad to meet Captain Bledsoe and Captain McHenry, and their commands, and give them battle. "We shall be camped on this road a short distance out," said I, "and you will confer a favor on us, to send these men word to that effect."

This they promised to do, telling me that Bledsoe had three hundred men, McHenry two hundred, and another man, whom they named, one hundred; and that the farthest command away was but five miles. Charging them again to be sure and send the rebels out, we took the road to Manchester, and, after dark, overtook the company in camp, when I told the captain about the rebels and the challenge I had sent them, and he approved it, and immediately put his camp in order for defense.

I was sent a quarter of a mile to the rear, with my party, to barricade the road, and hold it till the enemy made a demonstration. During the latter part of the night they approached us cautiously from the rear, but did not attack us, nor show themselves in any formidable numbers, but moved around and got on the Manchester road ahead of us, and charged down on the camp. But the captain had so disposed his men that they gave the assailants two sweeping volleys in their flanks as they approached; and perfectly astounded, they broke and fled, pell mell, back in the way they came. One of their men, a lieutenant, tumbled headlong into our camp. We afterward ascertained that the rebel loss was eight killed and thirteen wounded; but this only came to our knowledge some time afterward. Captain Robie only reported one of them being left dead on the field, and his own loss nothing. We were unmolested after that, and reached Tullahoma in time to join the regiment.

The Colonel had been at Manchester, and destroyed the powder mill there, and had driven a number of little squads of the enemy out of the country; and having consolidated his command, we moved in the direction of Murfreesboro, where our army then was, going by the way of Shelbyville.

Murfreesboro was taken by a detachment of the 4th Ohio Cavalry under Lieut. Col. Henry Burdsal.

While the 3d division lay at Murfreesboro, Gen. Mitchel sent me out on a long scout to inspect all the roads leading to Shelbyville, and all the bridges over the river within five miles of the town, either above or below it. The reader will at once understand that this was a very long and dangerous task, as the roads were all picketed by the Texas Rangers and Morgan's battalion, and small squads of them were scouring the country, day and night, in every direction. To the right of the turnpike a couple of miles is a small town, called Middleton, the same place where Gen. D. S. Stanley gave the rebel cavalry such a trouncing. Near this little town I met a squad of rebel cavalry under the command of a lieutenant. I had just turned into the road, and did not see them until retreat was out of the question; for I was within half-pistol shot of them. For a moment I felt very bad, but the next instant resolved to "face" on them, and "bluff" through. Throwing up my cap, I gave a loud hurrah, as if I was immensely pleased over something that had just transpired. My first exclamation was, "Well, boys, I am glad to see you; how do you all get along, and what is the news from the army?"

"We are all well, I believe," said the lieutenant, eyeing me closely; "what command do you belong to, sir?"

"O, I belong to the 1st Louisiana Cavalry," said I; "my name is Bonham, and I am captain of Company I of that regiment."

"Ah! ha!" he said, dubiously scrutinizing my splendid uniform, which really had belonged to Captain Bonham, and who had died while a prisoner in our hands; "then. Captain, allow me to ask what you are doing so close to the Yankee pickets, and alone?"

"O," I exclaimed, "I have had such a remarkable adventure, and if you are not in a hurry, I will give you the particulars."

"Certainly, sir, we should be pleased to hear it," said the Lieutenant, still surveying me intently; "but first tell me how far it is to the Yankee pickets, if you know, for so small a party of us may be in danger here."

"O, no," said I, "not in the least; for I have just come out through them, and the picket line is away beyond (north) of Old Fosterville, as much as three miles."

"Good on your head," said the Lieutenant; "but, Captain, what in the world were you doing in the Yankee lines?"

"Why, you see," I went on, "I was out here in this neighborhood some time ago, with part of my regiment, on a scout. We went into camp at night, not far from New Fosterville, in a secluded place in the big cedar brake, north of town; after seeing the command all properly disposed for the night, I with two other officers, in company with Lieutenant Col. Wood of our regiment, who is, as perhaps you are aware, one of our most reliable scouts, went out on a reconnoisance toward the Yankee pickets. Wood, you know, is a perfect dare-devil, and what do you think he proposes to do? Why, sir, to go to a house in plain view of the Yankee pickets, and call for a supper for the whole party. Tickled at this novel proposition, in the excitement of the moment, we forgot the dictates of prudence, and consented to go. We had been there for perhaps an hour or more, and the lady of the house had laid a bountiful supper on the table, and we were just in the act of sitting down to eat it, when a little darkey came rushing into the room, in a terrible fright, saying, "Oh masters, oh Miss Louise, de Yankee sogers hab dun cum, dey out dar in de road now, an dey all got hosses. Oh run gemmen, or dey done cotch you in a minute." Wood and my companions rushed out and broke over a fence in the back yard, and into the cedar brake, and made good their escape, followed, of course, by a rapid fire from the Yankees. I knew very well that I could never be so fortunate on my wounded leg, for, you see, gentlemen, I was wounded in a skirmish in Kentucky last winter, and my right leg is very weak, (at the same time raising my foot from the stirrup, I showed an ugly scar on my shin, caused by being kicked by a horse years before), and realizing my inability to keep up with my more fortunate companions, I deemed it best to surrender without resistance, for I was afraid the infuriated wretches might kill me after I gave in, if not before. On passing my sword over to the officer in charge, who was a first Lieutenant, judge my surprise to recognize in him an old acquaintance and friend who used to clerk in the same store where I was employed in New Orleans. His name was Dobbs, (he was first Lieutenant of my own company); and he was glad to see me, and said that he was extremely sorry that I was a prisoner, but promised to use his influence to make my imprisonment as light as possible on me. He saw that the men treated me with respect, and as soon as he got to camp he went in person to intercede for me with Gen. Mitchell, who kindly paroled me and gave me the liberty of the cavalry camp; Lieut. Dobbs promising to become responsible for my safe keeping. The Lieutenant did everything in his power to make me comfortable, and took me in his own mess, to eat at his table free of expense. Of course I appreciated the kindness of so generous a foe, but still was anxious to recover my liberty. Seeing that it was manifestly to my advantage to cultivate amicable relations with my captors, I sought by every means in my power to ingratiate myself into their favor; and so completely did I win their confidence that this morning the Lieutenant proposed that I should accompany him on a short ride beyond the pickets. Of course I gladly accepted the kind invitation, and, the Lieutenant borrowing a horse for me from one of his men, we mounted, when he said that he was going out to a farm house to procure butter, eggs and milk for his table. After we had got nearly a mile from the pickets the Lieutenant dismounted, to arrange his clothing and adjust a "Yankee button," (made by poking a stick through the cloth) to his suspenders. We were standing beside a tree when the Lieutenant took off his belt, and laid his pistols on the ground beside him; then turning his back to me, began working at his button. There was a chance that promised success. Springing forward I seized the belt, and drawing a pistol from it sprang upon the Lieutenant's horse, and galloped away, leaving him overwhelmed with astonishment at his own foolish carelessness. Perhaps it was wrong in me thus to betray the confidence of so generous a man, but Lieutenant, no man knows how sweet it is to be free, until he has once been a prisoner."

During the delivery of this story, the whole command had given me the utmost attention; and when I had concluded their admiration was almost unbounded. The Lieutenant cordially extended his hand and said:

"Captain, allow me to congratulate you on your very fortunate escape," while his men expressed their feelings in sundry remarks, which, although meaningless to a citizen, are very expressive to a soldier.

"Bully for him," said one.

"Ah, he's a Tartar," said another.

"He's too old for the Yanks," remarked a third.

Seeing that now I had completely disarmed them of suspicion, I urged my anxiety to rejoin my regiment, and of hearing from home, and politely wished them a good day and a successful trip, and galloped away, followed by their congratulations.

As soon as I was well out of their sight, toward Shelbyville, I turned off on a by-road, and took my way to the "Widow's bridge." About two miles from this bridge, I stopped to get my supper, at a house occupied by a widow named Cheatham, who was a relative of General Cheatham, and of Cheatham, the mayor of Nashville. She received me with generous hospitality, and soon provided a bountiful supper for me. Giving my horse time to rest after eating, for I had to ride all night, I sat and talked to the lady after supper for some time. She had much to say about General Breckenridge, who had been camped very near her house, a few days before, and who had paid her a visit. She was very much flattered at this, and told me that part of the General's command were camped near, and that there was a picket post at the far end of the bridge. When night set in, I called for my horse, and told the lady that I believed I would ride. It was in the latter part of March, and when I went out to my horse, the wind was blowing almost a gale, and snow was drifting in the air profusely. The widow went out through the storm to see me mounted at the gate. She expressed the liveliest sympathy for me in having to ride through that dark, cold, stormy night; and seeing that I had no gloves to draw on, she sent a negro into the house for a pair of yarn gloves, with instructions where to find them, and to hurry back, for she was already getting cold. Presently the negro returned with the articles, and as I was drawing them on, I began to grumble at the cold. "Wait a minute," she said, and away she went to the house, and soon came running back with a very fine white wool blanket, which she folded like a shawl and threw around me, pinning it under my chin with her own hands. Bidding this hospitable lady good bye, I mounted and was soon prowling around the picket post at the bridge. I discovered that the structure was in good repair, and that it could be crossed with safety; then turning up the river, I inspected, in turn, two others across the stream. While prowling about the second one, which was only a mile from town, I unexpectedly run into a company of rebels, who were returning to their camp. I was just riding out from the bridge, when the sound of horse's feet approaching attracted my attention. How to escape meeting them I could not tell; so posting myself by the side of the fence, under the shadow of a large tree, when they had approached within a short distance, I sung out "Halt," in a loud and resolute tone, and in the next breath demanded, "Who comes there?"

"Friends," was the prompt reply.

"Dismount one and advance with the countersign."

"We haven't got the countersign," said the commander.

"What do you belong to," I asked.

"Morgan's battalion," he replied.

"Then break from the right," said I, "and pass us by file until we see what you look like; and if you prove to be confederates, you may pass in without delay."

Breaking by file, as ordered, they marched by me so close that I could have touched them with a ten foot pole. Keeping myself under the shadow of the tree, I pretended to inspect them as they rode by. When a few files had passed, I sung out, "All right, captain, you can reform your men."

"Form fours; forward, march," he shouted, and I soon heard his men clattering over the bridge and cursing it as an old "basket" that was unsafe to cross, and must soon fall down. They had not gone more than a few steps before the officer ordered his men to dismount and lead over by file, swearing that he believed the bridge would break if they did not do so. Of course this was information to me. I well knew that I must now ride for my life, for the trick would be discovered as soon as they reached the picket on the other side of the bridge. Turning up the road and keeping on soft ground, I followed until I came to a "timber" road, running through a cedar brake, where I turned off, and was soon safe from pursuit in the labyrinth of ways that ran in all directions through the woods. Keeping up the country, I passed above the town about five miles, and hiding my horse in another brake not far from a house, (for I heard a chicken crow,) I followed the direction of the sound, and finding the house, roused a darkey, and got some corn bread and bacon from him, and directions where to find corn for my horse. I returned to where my animal was hitched, fed him, and laid down to sleep. I stayed in that brake until the next night, and then commencing at the upper bridge, I hunted down the river toward Shelbyville again, and found two more bridges, besides the one at the town, in good repair.

Riding cautiously as near the town as I could prudently, I took a good survey of it, but did not add much to my store of knowledge. Meeting an old darkey coming along the road, I stopped him, and in a low tone asked several questions as to what troops occupied the place, and if the bridge at town was in good repair. He informed me that the place was occupied by Morgan's Battalion of Cavalry and part of Wharton's Hangers; that some of them were quartered in the town, but the larger part were camped on the south side of the river, and were picketing the bridge, which was in good condition.

I had now accomplished all that I had been sent to do. I had learned all about every bridge, and had explored every approach to Shelbyville from the north side of the river. Feeling glad that my dangerous duty was over, with a feeling of relief I turned my horse's head once more toward Murfreesboro', where in imagination I could see "old Starry," poring over his maps by candle light, perhaps impatiently awaiting my arrival; but I was, as railroad men say, "on time," so I did not give myself any uneasiness on that score. I had not ridden more than three hundred yards when I saw a couple of men step into the road only a few yards ahead of me, and then facing me they commanded me to "halt." Knowing that death was my portion if captured in that disguise, I instantly spurred my animal forward at a charge, straight upon them. When within about two jumps of them, I fired on the right hand man, when he gave an exclamation of pain and let his gun fall, and the next jump my horse struck him full in the breast with his knees and knocked him high in the air, and as he fell to the ground cleared his body with a bound. The left hand man fired as I passed, and so close were we to each other that the powder from his gun stung my face like fine shot. Seeing more men in the cedars on the right, I threw myself down, Comanche fashion, with my head by my horse's breast, but not a second too soon, for they sent a dozen balls whistling after me. Driving the spurs into my horse, I urged him to his utmost for about three miles, when I then checked up, to see if I was pursued; but I heard no more of the rebels that night, and pursued my way unmolested to camp, where I arrived just as the General was eating his breakfast. I do not know who it was that was firing on me, unless I had blundered inside of the rebel pickets in the dark. The General was very glad that I escaped so well, and praised me to all the officers for venturing so far. But I soon had additional cause to feel proud, for my party of scouts were the first Yankees into Shelbyville, where we captured a bank and put it under charge of a guard until relieved by the authorities. This was the only institution in Tennessee which could redeem its notes; and I afterward learned that it did redeem its entire circulation in United States currency.

The rebels soon got over their scare and began to trouble us again. I scouted the country a good while as Captain Bonham, of the 1st Louisiana Cavalry, but I accomplished nothing more worthy of narration, except that I had a few single-handed combats with members of Morgan's command.