On starting, we rode back on our old trail half a mile, to where we had crossed a small creek, down which we rode, keeping all the time in the water, for about three miles, to a public road leading south, which we followed about six miles; then, on coming to a rocky place where our horses would make no tracks, we left the road at right angles and traveled in the woods about two miles; here we made a semi-circle around a hill, and camped in a commanding position. My comrades did picket duty while I slept nearly all day. At night we went to a friend who lived near my old residence, and from him we learned that our trail had been discovered on our way up, that the whole militia force, composed almost exclusively of my old enemies, together with some Dutch regulars, were quartered at Big River Mills; that the woods were being constantly scoured; that each ford on Big river was guarded night and day, and that they considered my escape impossible.
Before the approach of daylight we secreted our horses in a deep ravine, covered with brush and briars, and then hid ourselves underneath a shelving rock near the top of a high bluff, from which, at a long distance, we had a view of my mother‘s house—the homestead of the Hildebrand family. We remained here all day, during which time the house was surrounded by soldiers, how many I could not tell, but they seemed to fill the yard and the adjoining inclosures. Presently I saw a dense column of smoke arise from the house, which told me too plainly that the Vandals were burning up the home of my childhood.
The flames presently burst forth through the roof and lapped out their long, fiery tongues at every window. The roof fell in, and all that remained of that superb house was the blackened walls of massive stone.
Gladly would I have thrown myself among those Vandals, and fought them while I had a drop of blood remaining; but it would have been madness, for I would have been killed too soon, and my revenge would have been ended, while my enemies would still live to enjoy their pillage.
Immediately after dark we returned to our horses and commenced our retreat to Arkansas; but instead of going south we traveled west about twenty miles, until we struck on a creek called Forche a‘ Renault, in Washington county; then turning south, we traveled over the wild pine hills west from Potosi, and camped in a secure place between Caledonia and Webster.
We started on in the evening, and just before sunset made a raid on a store, getting all we wanted, including several bottles of “burst-head.” We traveled mostly in the night, followed Black river down to Current river, crossed at Carter‘s Ferry, and made our way safely to Green county, Arkansas.
CHAPTER X.
Trip with two men.—Killed Stokes for informing on him.—Secreted in a cave on Big river.—Vows of vengeance.—Watched for McGahan.—Tom Haile pleads for Franklin Murphy.—Tongue-lashed and whipped out by a Woman.
After remaining a few days at headquarters I commenced making preparations for another trip against my enemies on Big river. I was yet ignorant of the murder of my brother Henry, and knew nothing about the burning of my mother‘s house, except what I saw at the distance of a mile, a few hours before I started back to Arkansas. I was now fully determined to use the same weapons upon some of my enemies, and to retaliate by any and all means placed in my power. I told the boys my plan. Among those who were present was Thomas Haile, or “devilish Tom”, as he was called, and as usual, he was spinning some of his laughable yarns; but when I spoke the name of Franklin Murphy as probably connected with the house burning, he stopped short in his conversation, and after a moment‘s reflection he proposed to go with me to see some of his old friends. To this I readily consented, and after selecting another man, we started on our way. We passed through Stoddard and then into Wayne county after a man by name of Stokes. He had fed me on my previous trips, inducing me to believe that he was a substantial Southern man; I learned shortly afterwards that he was laying plans for my capture, and had, more than once, put the Federals on my trail. Notwithstanding I had these statements from good authority, I was unwilling to take his life until I knew to my own certain knowledge that he was guilty. I did not wish to fall into the error, so common among the Federals, of killing an innocent man to gratify the personal enmity of some informer.