ONE AGAINST THREE THOUSAND.
Rumors of the raid had been current for several days before its occurrence, and a Mr. Jones, a citizen of Covington, Ga., whose hatred of everything blue had been inflamed by reports of outrages committed by Sherman's army, pledged himself to kill the first Federal soldier who approached his home. Learning that Garrard's division had reached the town, he loaded his squirrel rifle and taking his stand in front of the court house he awaited his opportunity. He had been on post but a little while when a Federal cavalryman approached with a squad of convalescents captured at the hospital. Jones allowed him to come within close range and then raised his rifle. The Yankee shouted to him: "Don't shoot," but his purpose was not to be changed and his victim dropped from the saddle. Reloading his rifle and changing his position to another street a second squad of prisoners came by and again his rifle brought down its game. Reloading the third time he intercepted a platoon of cavalry and fired into it, wounding two of them. They captured him, shot him to death and then beat out his brains with the butts of their rifles. He doubtless anticipated such a fate and went coolly to certain death with no hope of fame and with only the satisfaction of getting two for one.
Geo. Daniel, a Confederate quartermaster, chanced to be at home on furlough in Covington on the same day. He had been out bird hunting that morning and on his return was captured by the Yankees, who enraged by the killing of two of their men by Jones, determined to shoot Daniel simply because he was found with a gun in his hand. His protest that he was out for no hostile purpose availed him nothing. He was ordered to face his executioners and an effort was made to bind a handkerchief over his eyes. He drew it away and said, "No, a Confederate soldier can face death without being blindfolded." The rifles rang out and he fell, another victim to the humane influence of Northern civilization.