At these words my two lady friends turned very pale; but I laughed, as I was acquainted with the commanding general. Remembering my pass from the Secretary of War, and other important official papers in my possession, I said to the captain who rode alongside of the ambulance, “Would it make any change in your course if I should show you passes from high officials? I have no objection to going to headquarters, but it is a loss of time.”
“No, madam! You are all under arrest. The officers don’t give passes, or send good teams and Union soldiers, to take people into the rebel camps.”
It was of no use to say anything more, for the officer had told the truth. In due time we reached headquarters and were ordered out. I led the procession, clambering out over our scattered supplies as best I could. The captain marched in beside me. The captain gave the military salute, and was about to report that he had brought in these people, captured while trying to run the Union lines; but there were several officers there who knew me, who came forward to shake hands, and the general among them, and he was silenced.
“Is there anything I can do for you to-day, madam?” the general inquired in his most gracious manner.
“Yes, General, there is. I and this forlorn little company whom I have led, and misled, are under arrest for a most serious crime. We were on the enemy’s ground, and were pushing for the enemy’s camp at full speed, when this gallant officer rode down in the face of the enemy and rescued us. I want to thank him before you all.”
Of course further explanation was made, and we were all released. The ambulance driver and myself were admonished “to make certain thereafter that we were on the right road.” I shook hands with the captain and thanked him, and the officers present congratulated him, and we all left headquarters in high spirits.
SAVING THE LIFE OF YOUNG PIKE,
Brother of Mrs. Sue Pike Sanders, Past National President, W. R. C.
THE atmosphere was thick with dust, and stifling with the sulphurous smoke that came in clouds from the near battle-field, as I drove around Vicksburg. The air was as hot as a furnace, under the pitiless rays of a June sun, and vibrated with the roar and thunder of heavy artillery and bursting shells, till every nerve was on the rack.