I had to abandon the attempt to go this time, and was left alone on the bluff in a terrible condition—no one to help me back home, and if I should succeed in reaching home I could not stay in the house. I knew if I was captured I would be shot or hung to the first limb. The rebels had received word that we had crossed the river and were making our way to Kentucky.
I started for home that night, crossing the river in a canoe at the same place where I had crossed the night before. I travelled about three miles that night, and just before daylight I crawled into a barn, dug a hole in the hay, and remained there all day, suffering intensely with my foot. Some one came into the barn to feed the horses, but I knew who lived there, and did not dare to make my presence known. When the person came in the hay loft I was afraid whoever it was might stick the pitch fork in me. I could not tell whether it was a man or woman, for no word was spoken. I lay there all day, without anything to eat or drink, and suffering fearfully with my foot.
About eight o’clock that night I crawled out of the barn and started for home. I travelled about three miles, and before daylight I crawled into another barn. I had known the owner all my life. He was a German and a good Union man, but I could not let myself be known. No one came to the barn that morning, and I lay there all day. My foot had swollen so badly that my shoe had to be taken off, and I had to go barefooted.
Capt. R. A. Ragan making his escape from his father-in-law’s home in 1862. See page [17].
The third night I crawled into the barn of Philip Easterly, who was my wife’s uncle. I did not let myself be known, but lay there all day as usual, and at night crawled out, having one mile and a half to travel to reach home.
I can safely say that I had to hop on one foot most of the way. I had no crutches and nothing but a stick that I had cut with a knife. When I arrived at my home, about three o’clock in the morning, my folks were surprised to see me, for they thought I could never walk on my foot in the condition it was in. I had my foot dressed for the first time since I was hurt. The blood had caked on it, and it looked as if amputation might be necessary; but my wife came to me two or three times a day and dressed it. I stayed in the barn at nights, and in the woods in the daytime. I had to remain in this condition for about six weeks, until I got so that I could begin to walk.
CHAPTER V.
In July, 1863, the news came that George Kirk would meet some men in Greene County to take them to Kentucky. I was determined to go, if I had to crawl part of the way. We met in Greene County, with about a hundred men. We crossed Walden Ridge and the Watauga, Cumberland, Holston and Powell’s Rivers, encountering great hardships. Our provisions gave out, and the only way we could get anything to eat was to find a colored family. They were always loyal, and we could depend on them. They never would “give us away.”
When we reached Camp Dick Robinson, Kentucky, we found a great many East Tennessee men who had made their way through the mountains. Some had organized into companies.