We made the trip—forty-seven miles—in ten hours. This is a strong Secession village. Half its male inhabitants are in the Rebel army. Our officers quarter in the most comfortable residences. At first the people were greatly incensed at the "Abolition soldiery," but they now submit gracefully. One of the most malignant Rebel families involuntarily entertains a dozen German officers, who drink lager-beer industriously, smoke meerschaums unceasingly, and at night sing unintermittently.
We are quartered at the house of a lady who has a son in Price's army, and a daughter in whom education and breeding maintain constant warfare with her antipathies toward the Union forces. Being told the other evening that one of our party was a Black Republican, she regarded him with a wondering stare, declaring that she never saw an Abolitionist before in her life, and apparently amazed that he wore the human face divine!
Sigel's Transportation Train.
Sigel, as usual, is thirty miles ahead. He has more go in him than any other of our generals. Several division commanders are still waiting for transportation, but Sigel collected horse-wagons, ox-wagons, mule-wagons, family-carriages, and stage-coaches, and pressed animals until he organized a most unique transportation train three or four miles long. He crossed his division over the swift Osage River—three hundred yards wide—in twenty-four hours, upon a single ferry-boat. The Rebels justly name him "The Flying Dutchman."
A Countryman's Estimate of Troops.
The Missourians along our line of march have very extravagant ideas about the Federal army. We stopped at the house of a native, where ten thousand troops had passed. He placed their number at forty thousand!
"I reckon you have, in all, about seventy thousand men, and three hundred cannon, haven't you?" he asked.
"We have a hundred and fifty thousand men, and six hundred pieces of artillery," replied a wag in the party.
"Well," said the countryman, thoughtfully, "I reckon you'll clean out old Price this time!"