"The officer left us together, and, in spite of the chagrin I felt that a mere stripling had been sent to me for an associate, I was soon deeply interested in him, for with his almost childlike simplicity there was mingled an air of confidence in his own powers which drew me irresistibly toward him. He told me his history, and when he dwelt on the cruelty with which the rebels had treated Union men in Tennessee, and related, in a subdued voice, the particulars of his father's death, his slight frame quivered with excitement, and his fingers twitched convulsively, as if he felt the perpetrators of the deed in his grasp. He seemed to have the real grit in him, and I finally came to the conclusion that I had mistaken my man. I soon learned it was so, for, the very first time we got on a scout together, I found that he was made of the right stuff, and I began to have a great deal of confidence in my youthful companion. I don't believe he knew what fear was. He was a splendid shot and an excellent rider; in fact, he seemed to be out of his element unless he was in the saddle.
"The first time that Sam (for that was my companion's name) had a chance to show his qualities was after the battle of Pittsburg Landing. One night, just after dark, we set out on horseback to watch the movements of the enemy. We were dressed in our rebel uniform, and provided with passes which would carry us through our lines. The night was dark and cloudy, but Sam, who knew the road like a book, took the lead. We had proceeded in this manner about four miles, scarcely saying a word to each other, when suddenly, as we came around a bend in the road, we found ourselves close upon a picket station. Several men were lying around a fire, eating their supper; and the reason why we had not discovered them sooner was on account of the thick trees and bushes, which completely concealed the glare of the fire from any one coming down the road. How we had succeeded in passing the sentries, which were posted some distance from the station, is still a mystery to me. Either our advance had been so still that they had not heard us, or else the sentries were asleep; at any rate, we were in the enemy's lines before we knew it, and in something of a scrape. If we undertook to retreat, besides running the risk of being shot by the men at the fire, we should be obliged to pass the sentries, and we might not succeed, for the clatter of our horses' hoofs would certainly alarm them. The only way was to ride up to the fire and put a bold face on the matter, which we did, the rebels supposing that, as we had passed the sentries, we were all right. They at once took us for some of their scouts, and one of them inquired:
"'How are the Yanks?'
"'They're there,' I replied. 'And you'll have to haul in these picket posts before long, or I am mistaken.'
"'How is that sentry out there?' asked the lieutenant in command.
"'O, he's all right,' I answered, and seating myself at the fire, began to pitch into the eatables. Sam followed my example, and we enjoyed a very good meal, after which we smoked a pipe, and talked with our companions about the probability of soon thrashing the Yankees soundly, and wishing that we were in the Eastern army, that we might have the honor of carrying the secesh rag into Philadelphia and all the other large cities at the North. We also received some very valuable information in regard to the rebels and their intended movements; and finally, concluding that the general must be looking for us, we bade the pickets good-by, mounted our horses, and galloped down the road toward the rebel camp. As soon as we thought we had gone far enough to deceive the pickets, we turned off from the road and started through the woods, intending to take a wide circuit, pass the pickets, and start back for our own camp. We stumbled about through the woods for nearly an hour, and finally struck a road that appeared to run at right angles with the one we had just left. This we followed at a rapid gallop for about a mile, when Sam pointed out a light that appeared to be shining in the window of a house ahead of us. We at once determined to reconnoiter, and rode slowly forward for that purpose, walking our horses on the grass at the side of the road, so that our advance would be noiseless. We had gone but a short distance when we were halted. To the challenge, 'Who comes there?' Sam replied, 'Scouts,' and throwing me his rein, he swung himself from his saddle, whispering:
"'Hold on a minute, Bill! Let me manage that fellow;' and before I could say a word he had disappeared in the darkness.
"Several moments passed, when I again heard his voice, and riding forward, wondering how he had 'managed' the sentinel, I was surprised to see him with a musket in his hand, pacing back and forth across the road. I instantly understood what had transpired, and leading the horses cautiously into the bushes at the side of the road, I fastened them there, and then returned to Sam.
"'I couldn't help it, Bill,' he whispered, as I came up. 'I meant to capture him, and compel him to give us some information; but he fought so desperately that I had to settle him to save myself.'
"'It can't be helped; such things are not uncommon in war times. Now you play the part of sentry here until some one passes, and you can find out what the countersign is. Then I'll go up to the house and reconnoiter.'