He was abundantly able to assist us in the matter, and we considered that he ought to contribute that much toward the Southern cause. We were raised close together from boyhood, and I had nothing against him; but as he was well able to spare me a horse, I made the demand. He complied with the request after emerging (as I believe) from a barrel of feathers. His novel appearance caused Tom Haile, who was always fond of a joke, to tell him that he must not let Jim Craig see him in that condition, or he might capture him for a spotted mule, which Murphy, in his good humored way, passed off very well. We also took a horse from Orville McIlvaine, who lived on the place known as the Baker farm. I had some anxiety to see him in order to make him break his well-known rule of never parting with a greenback after it got into his safe; but his retiring nature prompted him to conceal himself in the garret until we departed. We now rejoined the other boys and started back by the way of Mingo Swamp. Before we reached that place we were warned by our friends that the Federals were thick in that locality. About midnight we arrived at the house of William Coots (well-known as old Bill Coots,) who had heretofore invariably represented himself as a Rebel of unusual bitterness. In answer to our inquiries, he told us that there were no Federals in the neighborhood, neither had there been any for more than a month. He also told us that the men we wished to find were then at home. I felt very much gratified on hearing statements so favorable to the success of our enterprise, and requested him to supply us with a few days‘ rations and provender for our horses, while we camped at a certain point not more than half a mile distant.
He readily consented, and gave us a very pressing invitation to come and take breakfast with him about sun up. To this we agreed, and at the time designated, we all left our camp and repaired to the house of our generous host, who received us with a great deal of what might be termed “Arkansas courtesy.” It may be readily supposed that the scanty fattening process we had gone through while on the St. Francis bluff had produced a streak of lean running the whole length of our mortal bodies; and that the odor from the kitchen, of coffee, ham and eggs, with other ingredients intermixed with spices, made us for a time forget all other things on these mundane shores. When breakfast was announced and we were about to seat ourselves at the table, old Coots remarked: “Here, gentlemen, you can lay your arms on the bed,” but it was not our custom to take off our arms at any time, so we seated ourselves at the table with them on. We were perhaps about half done eating when a ragged looking Federal stepped up to the door, and in an exulting tone said: “Well, Coots! you got them, did you?” and bawled out “surrender,” at which I sprang from the table, drew my revolver and shot Coots, seized my gun which I had left near the door, and cleared the door by about fifteen feet; I shot a Federal with my revolver which I still held in my right hand, and in a few bounds gained the woods unhurt, save a slight wound on the back of my head. My men attempted to follow without their guns, two of them were killed in their attempt to escape, while the remaining one (Tom Haile,) soon got with me, and we made our way to our horses. Fortunately the Federals had not found them. We tarried awhile for our comrades, but as they did not come up we were fearful that they were slain. Mounting our horses and leading theirs, we made our way to a canebrake about a mile off, and sent a citizen back to ascertain the real state of affairs. After taking an old bridle in his hand, he made his way over, inquiring of each person he met for a grey mare and a black colt.
On passing the house of old Bill Coots he was halted, at which he did not seem to be the least alarmed, but expressed the utmost surprise when the whole tragedy was related to him. The worst part of the whole affair was that two of my men were killed and were lying at the time in front of the house. On receiving this news we started home to get a force sufficient to clean out the Federals, but on arriving in Green county, Arkansas, nearly all of our men were out on scouting excursions, principally toward the West.
BETRAYED BY COOTS.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Took ten men.—Went to Mingo Swamp.—Went to Castor Creek.—Medicine traffic.—Attacked two companies of Federals under Capt. Cawhorn and Capt. Rhoder.—Fought them seven nights.—Dick Cowan.—Went with Capt. Reed‘s men.—Attacked Capt. Leeper‘s Company.—Killed fourteen and wounded eight.—Captured forty-four guns, sixty pistols, forty horses and four hundred dollars.
On the 15th day of December, 1863, I started back to Mingo Swamp with ten men, and met with no obstacles on our route after swimming the St. Francis river. When we got into the neighborhood of the unfortunate tragedy of our previous trip, we ascertained from reliable sources that the Federals left for Bloomfield on the day following the skirmish at old Bill Coots‘, and that the men we had been looking after so long had gone into the regular army.
We visited the house of our newly made widow, Mrs. Coots, for the purpose of seeing the graves of my two brave boys. She confessed that Coots had layed plans for my capture; that the Federals were camped only one mile off at the time, and that after I had consented to come to his house for breakfast, he went to the Federal camp and notified them of the fact, and made arrangements to take me in. Finding no one in that vicinity to fight, we made our way over onto Castor creek to a well known friend, who had, since the beginning of the war, acted as an agent for us in receiving and forwarding supplies and medicines. Hearing of no Federals in that portion of the country, and there being no persons in that quarter against whom we had enmity sufficient to induce us to invest any of our capital in bark or grape vines, we obtained the medicine sent to that place from Farmington, St. Francois county, Missouri, and started back for Mingo Swamp. On our way the monotony of our journey was suddenly relieved by seeing a Federal coming toward us, apparently riding very cautiously. We only got a glimpse of him as the road took him down into a small ravine out of our sight. We were very certain that he had not discovered us, so we got out of the road until he came up; when we halted him he seemed very much frightened, but surrendered quietly.