The reprobate, not knowing that the Yankees had a boat of their own, had paddled defiantly down the river before Lytle's headquarters, when the General said: "Pike, go and fetch that man to me; can't you catch him in your boat?" "You just watch the race if you don't believe it," said I, and away I went, and soon had the Johnny standing in the presence of the General; and like all the rest of the secesh clan that ever I caught, he exhibited the most abject humility.
CHAPTER XXVII.
AFTER STEAMBOATS AGAIN—A MOUNTAIN NYMPH—BOB. WHITE, THE UNION BUSHWHACKER.
Leaving Bridgeport, I once more was off on my steamboat exploits, and as I was crossing over Walden's ridge, about fifteen miles below Chattanooga, at the top of the "cut off" I heard a very long, and loud scream, or more like an exultant yell. Thinking of nothing but bushwhackers in that locality, I "treed" instanter, and stood with my gun at a "ready" to fire on any suspicious object. Soon the sound of a horse's feet, coming almost toward me at a run, roused me to renewed vigilance, that I might get the first shot; for I made sure it was some rebel cavalryman. I was not kept long in suspense, however, for in a few seconds a magnificent horse bounded into view, mounted by a beautiful young woman, who was riding "man fashion," or, as the little boys say, "astraddle," utterly unconscious of observation. Her long, brown hair was streaming in the wind, as she was without bonnet or shawl; her short sleeves and low necked dress, left a beautiful neck, plump arms, and a voluptuous bosom, partially, but not immodestly exposed, while the skirts of her dress being drawn up by her peculiar position on the horse, exposed limbs perfect in development, and of dazzling whiteness. She was singing, in a clear musical voice, snatches of some song which she occasionally stopped, to give a shrill whoop at a half wild cow she was driving before her, at a fearful rate through the thick timber. She rode her horse with a fearless grace, and a firm hand, guiding the spirited beast by a rope halter turned into a loop around his nose. She soon vanished from my view, to the left, following a well beaten trail which I was confident must lead to a house. So quick did she come and go, and so beautiful did she appear, galloping away through the green woods with such a happy gracefulness, and fearless air, that I could almost imagine that I had seen a real nymph of the mountain.
"It was a fearful ride in the dark, as several of the cascades were five or six feet from top to bottom, and one, known as the "big jump," was ten feet in perpendicular hight."—Page [325].