Now for a tale of wild adventure! I came off guard at nine o’clock this morning, and Sam. Oliver and I arranged to go a-fishing. We did not get off until after dinner, which for Dan. and I consisted of a big mess-pan of potatoes and bread and butter. We worked pretty hard to find some worms for bait, but not a worm could be found on the Point; so we caught a few grasshoppers and a crab and started in a dugout for a point about two miles up the river. We fished diligently and faithfully, but not a fish came to our hooks. But we were repaid for our trouble by several very near views of the giant turtles which have lately made their appearance here. Several times they came up close to the boat. If they can bite as savagely as a “snapper” in proportion to their size—O, my! Their heads looked as large as a man’s, and their spread of flippers was tremendous. They would stick their heads out of the water, give a big puff, and lazily roll under again. As we couldn’t catch fish, we went ashore, had a good swim, and then went home. Then I found I had left a rebel officer’s belt on the beach, and I paddled the boat back again and picked up the belt.
Here is another: Colonel Bailey, Steve Smiley and a few others went out sailing, yesterday, in a dugout they had rigged up with a keel and a sail. They had no trouble running out before the wind, but when it came to beating back they couldn’t get anywhere. They went kiting about, hither and thither, and their boat did everything but what they wanted it to. One of our armed schooners fired two shots to bring them to, but they couldn’t heave to if the fate of the world had depended on it. At last they came within an ace of running down one of the gunboats, which obligingly lowered a boat and towed them ashore.
I do not know yet the result of Bill Ramsdell’s court martial, but he says he is perfectly satisfied with the way he got his side of the case in. The President of the court did not hesitate to say that Bill’s treatment had been “shameful” in some particulars.
We have not had a drop of rain here for some time, although it is cloudy almost every day and looks as if it was going to pour right away. But we have an almost constant breeze, which is very refreshing, although it is so late in the season that it begins to be a little cool.
Old Dan. is the prince of story tellers. He tells me stories of Ireland and of his own adventures there and elsewhere. I like to hear him. He will start in with some entirely reasonable and probable narrative. Then he tells me something a little steeper, which I pretend to swallow. Properly encouraged, he goes on, each time improving on his last, until Gulliver and Munchausen sink into insignificance. Then I say: “Och, Dan., what a divvle of a liar ye are!” He twists his picked nose, snaps his eyes, and the show is over.
CXII
Point Lookout, Md., September 18, 1863.
I WAS on guard yesterday, coming off this morning, and it was a lucky strike, as a rain storm has just set in. So while the poor fellows on duty today are paddling up and down in the wet, I will sit in my comfortable tent, nice and dry. But if the storm holds on tomorrow my crowing will be over and I’ll be the one out in the cold. Our Seventeenth men will leave us very soon. Their time is up, but they are being kept here on the plea of waiting for a mustering officer and paymaster. There are three still doing duty in Company I. We had six, but three have died. Since our arrival here the regiment has lost five by death, four of whom were from the Seventeenth.
A good portion of our Reb prisoners, being out of ready money, have taken to manufacturing little trinkets for sale to our men. They make bone rings and bosom pins and other ornaments, some of which are of remarkable workmanship. And they make wooden fans which are very ingenious.