"No," said he, "I have never seen a man shot, and I don't want to see you shot in my own yard; you will certainly get shot if you go there. If you want to stand picket at all, go up into my garret and watch from the window."
The old man turned so pale and looked so much in earnest, that I concluded to take his advice. Instead of going into the front door I went round to the back door; both doors were open. In the front end of the hall sat the planter's daughter, waving a white handkerchief, and in the field beyond, not more than three hundred yards distant, I saw a line of Johnnies coming, hiding their approach as much as they could by intervening objects. I said to the boys, "Grab the sausage, kick over the table, and be off, for the rebs are on us." We took to the trees, when quite a lively skirmish ensued, which lasted for several minutes. The rebs then took to their horses, evidently bent on intercepting our retreat on the cross-road. As soon as they were out of sight, we started across the fields for the "lower Hillsboro" road, which proved to be about a mile distant. There were eighteen of the rebs, and they had evidently been watching the "lower road" for forage parties. We had been coming up in their rear until we stopped to confiscate the sausage. On reaching the road, I found that the troops had not passed that way, and consequently must have taken some other. The fact now flashed upon my mind that we were much further from our command than we had any idea of.
There was a brick church at the corner of the road. I got the boys into that as quick as possible, and ordered them to knock out the windows. While they were preparing for defense, I stood in the road and watched. While the boys were getting ready, a Lieutenant and a private of the Federal Signal Corps came up, each armed with revolvers, and soon after several infantry soldiers, that had strayed away from their commands, came in sight. I hurried them up, and had hardly got them into the church when a party of rebs made their appearance. We opened on them lively, and killed two of their number and wounded others, which caused them to clear out and leave us. I knew it would not do to stay there long, so we "lit out" to find the army, taking the cross-road to the south. Being mounted, I rode on ahead, until I came to the upper road. The 16th Corps had just passed, and the 17th was just coming into sight. In a few minutes General McPherson and staff came up, and wanted to know what the firing was about. I reported the situation of affairs. Just then two of my squad, who had brought up the rear at a distance of three hundred yards behind the rest, came up on the run, with information that two regiments of rebel cavalry were coming. The General ordered a brigade of infantry into position on a double-quick. They were hardly in line before the rebs commenced firing. A lively engagement ensued, which lasted about thirty minutes, and resulted in a handsome defeat of the enemy.
A march of three days more brought us to Decatur, Miss. The 16th Army Corps passed on beyond the place to encamp for the night. As the rear of their supply train was passing out of the place it was attacked, and one man and twenty-six mules were killed. The 17th Corps encamped for the night at Decatur. The next morning General Leggett sent me out on a road running south from the place, to ascertain whether there was a rebel force near. I had only gone half a mile before I discovered, a short distance ahead of me, a squad of rebs. I returned to report the fact to General Leggett, and as I was passing the first line of our troops, Major Fry, of the 20th Ohio, said to me, "Bunker, what is there out there?"
"There are rebs out there."
"How far?"
"Not more than half a mile."
"Pshaw! Bunker, you are mistaken; there can't be rebs that near."
"Perhaps you had better go and see, if you don't believe it."
The Major mounted his black stallion and went out. The road was crooked, and lined on both sides with a heavy growth of pine underbrush, so that it was impossible to see far. He hadn't been gone long enough to have rode half a mile, when he was seen coming back with his horse under full spur, and at its utmost speed, with hat in hand, shouting at the top of his voice, "Fall in! Fall in! Fall in!" From the Major's actions, we all supposed that a large force of rebs were about to attack us. The troops instantly fell in, when a company was sent out to find the cause of alarm, and discovered seven men that had given chase to the Major. Officers sometimes get frightened as well as enlisted men.