Resuming the conversation, he said: "How is it that you are afoot?" My reply was: "My brother promised to send me money and when he did not do it, I became impatient and determined to go without it." "Where are you going?" I said: "To Vienna." It was a place I had picked out on the map, about twenty miles East of Anna Station. I guess it was a very insignificant place. Anna Station was the Camp of Instruction for the Federal Army, about twenty miles North of Cairo. I had chosen that as my point of destination, as no one would suspect me if I should be going where the Federal soldiers were. My friend said: "Young man, you are surely not acquainted with the prairie and the winter weather. It is pleasant for this time of the year, but in a few days snow storms and blizzards will be the order and any man, taking the trip you propose afoot, would freeze to death. It is out of the question for you to think of such a thing, it is near three hundred miles." I said: "Well, I will go until the storm breaks out."
He said, "you remain with me tonight. It shan't cost you anything, and in the morning I will see if I can't get you a ticket to Anna Station." I said: "I like to settle things in my mind; think I can sleep better. I have a little pistol here which was given me by a friend. It is hardly of any value to anybody except me, but if you will take it in pawn, for two weeks, for a ticket to Anna Station, I will take the ticket; otherwise I will pursue my journey afoot." He finally agreed to do as I proposed and I turned over the pistol to him. It was the only pistol I ever possessed. Really it was a relief to get rid of it, for I had been uneasy every minute I had it in my pocket.
The next morning I
TOOK THE TRAIN, WHICH WAS LOADED DOWN WITH FEDERAL SOLDIERS,
going to Anna Station. They were nearly all young men, in blue uniforms and had large, well filled knapsacks. I don't think I spoke a word to anybody that day. If anybody asked me a question, I answered only in monosyllables. I saw those boys take new Bibles out of their knapsacks and begin to read them. Nearly every one of them had a Bible. I did not understand it until, a few weeks later, when my own sister presented me with a Bible, as I started to the army, with the injunction that I should read it.
A little before day I reached Anna Station;
AT DAYLIGHT I STARTED WEST TO THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER,
instead of East to Vienna. Taking dinner with a farmer, who was evidently in sympathy with the Southern people, he said: "How are you going to get across the river?" I said: "Is there no ferry there?" "No, there is a place where the ferry was, but all the boats from St. Louis to Cairo have been destroyed by the Federals, except one belonging to a fisherman, four miles above the old ferry; but he is a Union man and would see you dead before he would put you over." About the middle of the afternoon I reached the abandoned ferry. I suppose the Mississippi River was lower than it had ever been at that time of the year, and probably ever has been since. Large sand bars extended out into the river and the stream was very narrow where it swept around the bar. I went up to the head of the sand bar and found driftwood of every imaginable kind. I picked out some timbers and expected to come back and attempt to make a raft on which I might pole or paddle myself across, if I should fail in getting across in the fisherman's boat. As I approached the house of the fisherman, I saw on the other side of the river, in the village a very large number of men. Evidently they were having a lot of sport; I guessed they had much liquor aboard. I got the woman to call her husband over. I saw him and a companion coming down the river bank on the other side. I discovered at once that they were intoxicated. As they came up, the owner of the boat said: "Who are you?" "I am a young fellow from Beloit, Wis., going to Greenville, Mo." "Well, how do you know you are going?" I said: "I don't know it. I suppose it depends on you, but I am very anxious to get across." He said: "Well, old fellow, are you loyal?" "I am sworn not to put anybody across here except loyal men, and I would get into a world of trouble if I should put a rebel across." I said: "How can a man be otherwise than loyal when he comes from Beloit, Wis.? I was in Chicago just day before yesterday and I expect, just as soon as I get back home, to join the army." So after a good deal of parley, he said: "Well, it will take one dollar in advance," which I readily paid, that left me one dollar in my pocket. I was anxious to make a good impression on him as to my loyalty, so I said, as we were crossing: "Is there any danger of my falling into the hands of the rebels on the other side of the river?" He said: "I should say, and if they run up on you they will kill you sure." I said: "That would be awful. I think maybe I can walk two miles before night; tell me the name of some loyal man out a little piece, where I could stay all night and be safe." He said: "All right I'll just take you up to the man and introduce you, he will take care of you." I saw at once I had spoken one word too many. I didn't want to be introduced to anybody by that man, especially not to a loyal man. How was I going to get out of it was the question.
Just as the boat landed there came a number of men down the bank, cursing and swearing at these fellows. Evidently they had formed a conspiracy to whip them when they got back. They commenced fighting and rolled into the edge of the river before I left. When I got to the top of the bank, I saw all the people of the town coming my way, evidently, bent on seeing the fight. I did not care to meet them, so I took a path running right down by the river bank and walked off just as if I lived down that way. I have no idea that there was a man in the crowd that could have remembered seeing me, if he had been sworn; they were so intent on seeing that fight they had no eyes for anything else.