After I had made the selection, I called them all together and we held a consultation. It was agreed that we would go and make the trial on Harvey; but that we must have five hundred dollars from old Wages in advance. I went to old Wages, and told him what was our conclusion. He hesitated at first, and offered to give us security that the money should be paid when we had done the job; I told him, “no! it was a dangerous undertaking, and we must be paid something to start with.” Finally, after consulting with his wife, he agreed to give us the five hundred dollars. Our only business then was to prepare ourselves with the best of double-barrel guns and pistols and bowie knives, with plenty of ammunition and percussion caps of the best quality, and thus armed and equipped we were ready for our journey.
Now I had a two fold object in view; that was, to go on to Catahoula, and search for my money, and for that purpose I took with me my diagram or map. The old man forked over the five hundred dollars, and we made ready for the start.
On Sunday morning the 8th day of July, 1848, we all set out from Wages’ place on Big Creek, where we had assembled for that purpose. We had not traveled far before Thomas Copeland was taken sick and turned back, at Dog River. We then traveled on by Fairley’s ferry, the O’Neal settlement and by James Batson’s to Harvey’s place. We traveled leisurely and camped out every night. We did not stop at any house after we left Pascagoula, and we reached Harvey’s place early in the day on the Saturday following. I was well acquainted with the place for I had been there with Wages and McGrath when Allen Brown lived there.
We found the house empty, but from appearances we judged that the farm was cultivated. We saw signs of foot steps about the house and yard, from which we inferred that Harvey was in the habit of coming about there daily. Our next business was to prepare for action. We went into the house and made many port holes on every side, so that we could shoot Harvey, let him approach which ever side he would. Our next business was to examine around the premises for his path, and place a sentinel there in ambush for his arrival. This sentinel was cautiously relieved every two or three hours, whilst the balance of us remained close inside or about the house, eating figs, peaches and water melons and destroying more than we eat.
In the afternoon we began to get hungry; I proposed to the balance to go over to Daniel Brown’s, about a mile and get some bread and meat for us all. Pool and Stoughton objected, and said, “there is plenty of green corn in the field; let us make a fire and roast some of the ears and eat here.” I then objected, and told them that if Harvey discovered a smoke in the house he would take the hint, and give the alarm, and that we should have the whole of Black and Red Creek down upon us. They still persisted, and Stoughton went into the field, gathered about twenty ears of the best and greenest corn and brought them into the house. Pool went out and brought in a load of wood and made a large fire and they roasted their corn.
That was precisely what betrayed us—the smoke issuing from the chimney of the house.
After the corn was roasted, we all eat heartily; John Copeland was on guard; Pool took his place, and John came in and eat. A little before sunset it was Stoughton’s time to relieve Pool. My brother John proposed to Stoughton to let him relieve Pool, and for Stoughton to take the next watch around the house. So it was agreed, and Pool came to the house.
PRESENTIMENT OF POOL’S DEATH.
Awhile after sunset, Stoughton, Pool and I were sitting on the gallery, talking very low, about the way we should have to manage. We were fearful Harvey was not at home, or had left the country. Some of us were eating figs and some eating peaches. All of a sudden our attention was arrested by a large white fowl, which passed through the yard some fifteen or twenty yards from us. It was a kind of fowl that I had never seen before, nor had either of my comrades, as they asserted. It walked some ten or fifteen yards; we rose to get a more minute view, and it took flight and ascended, until we lost sight of it in the distance. This seemed to strike Pool with terror and amazement, and he reflected a few minutes and said, “Boys, I shall be a dead man before to-morrow night! That is an omen of my death!”
Stoughton laughed and said to Pool, that if he was a dead man he would make a very noisy corpse; but Pool still insisted that it was a signal of his death, and urged hard that we should leave that place, and retire to one more secluded. “I did wrong,” said he, “in making fire in the house.” We tried to laugh him out of his predictions, but all to no purpose; and sure enough, as he had conjectured, before the next night he was a corpse.