About the middle of September, after having only rested about a week, I started with six men from near Springfield, Missouri, to make a raid in the vicinity of that city. Not being acquainted with the country over which we designed traveling, I had but little to say in regard to the programme of our intended raid. After our plans were arranged, we started, taking with us “neither purse nor scrip,” for we intended to rely altogether on our good fortune for our supplies.
From Green county, Ark., we traveled through Randolph and entered Missouri in Ripley county. Here we were detained, for one of my men had the misfortune to lose his horse. Having reached a part of the country known as the Irish Wilderness, we concluded to rest a day and hunt.
In the evening before we struck camp, a young man, dressed in citizen‘s clothes, who claimed to be going to the Rebel army, joined us, and asked permission to stop with us until morning. He professed to be going to Arkansas, and we readily consented to entertain him as best we could.
After the confusion incident to striking camp, making fires, attending to our horses, etc., was over, our new companion began a series of interrogatories relative to the part of country through which we had operated, since the beginning of the war. After having posted him thoroughly in regard to the field of our operations, we related to him many thrilling incidents and daring adventures connected with our history; to all of which he listened with intense interest, and at the amusing parts of our story he laughed most heartily. After we grew tired of relating our many dangerous feats and bloody deeds, he began his narrative of hair breadth escapes and heroic adventures. The field of his operations having been Kentucky, we were very pleasantly entertained by receiving the full accounts of several incidents of which we had heard some rumors.
We had scarcely marked the transition from twilight to Egyptian darkness, so much were we pleased with our new companion‘s pleasant stories, when one of my men remarked that “the last hour of the day was melting away into the eventful past.” Our programme for the day following had been made by our new comrade, and heartily approved by us all, that we would take an old fashioned deer hunt, among the wild hills surrounding us.
Our quiet slumbers were scarcely disturbed even by the intermission of rolling over, until “Old Sol” was looking us fair in the face, as if to read the guilt of our hearts.
Upon awakening, one word loudly spoken, was sufficient to bring the whole squad to a half recumbent position; and as we went through the antiquated performance of rubbing our eyes, the attention of each one seemed to be turned to the spot where our new comrade had deposited himself for a sleep a few hours before. He was gone! The fragment of an old log, that had served him as a pillow, was all that was left of him or his bed. But this was not all;—one of our best horses was gone! We cared but little for the horse, so far as his real value was concerned, for we had some experience in “raising horses,” and knew that we could get another on very easy terms, but we did not like the idea of having been gulled by a young adventurous loyalist, in the face of the fact, too, that we considered ourselves “shark proof.”
Neither were we certain that our misfortunes would end here, for our “sharper” had succeeded in getting our plans for the entire trip.
During the preparation of our morning meal, the subject of our misfortune was freely discussed, with many conjectures in regard to who our deceiver was, and the probable result of his acquired information.
A majority of the men were in favor of continuing our journey, while only one man joined me in opposing any further movement in the direction of Springfield.