I put in a good crop of corn, and my wife made an excellent garden with no help but the children. I am very much tempted to brag a little on my excellent wife, but if I were to assert that I had the best wife in the world, each one of my male readers who are married would want me to except his own; this would render the exceptions so numerous that my wife would come in nearly last, so I will say nothing about it, and keep my own opinion to myself.
After plowing my crop over once I made preparation for another trip to Missouri, but we had all got into such a good humor while busily engaged in farming, that we were nearly two days recounting our grievances before we were mad enough to think of snatching our enemies into eternity.
Taking nine men, one of whom had served under Quantrel, we started on the 25th day of May, 1864, for another raid into Missouri. Crossing the St. Francis river at the southwest corner of Stoddard county, we went into Scott county and watched three days and nights to catch some men we were after, but failing in this we went in the direction of Dallas, the county seat of Bollinger.
My men wanted to return, as nothing of an exciting interest had transpired so far; but at my earnest solicitation they agreed to go with me one more day. The next morning we were traveling in day time, and had not proceeded more than four or five miles when we discovered a party of Federals, seven in number, who had discovered us and were under full speed toward the town of Dallas, which was at that time garrisoned by about one hundred Dutch soldiers. We dashed on after them; the race was a very exciting one. When we had gone about six miles we began to gain on them, and when we got within a mile of the garrison one of their horses fell, giving the rider a thump on the ground that knocked him senseless until we were upon him. We disarmed him, and as his horse had not left, we made him mount and go with us about two miles in the woods.
The Dutchman seemed very much alarmed, and gave us enough broken English for a good sized volume; but as soon as we arrived in a thick timbered hollow between the hills, we quietly sent his spirit back to the Rhine where it never should have left. In a few hours we called at the house of a friend, fed our horses and got some refreshments for ourselves.
To the Flat Woods, in St. Francois county, we then made our way, and remained there about twenty-four hours, after which we went to the extreme northern part of the county, and concealed ourselves among the Pike Run hills. Those hills are perhaps the most rugged part of the whole State, and are covered with a dense thicket of underbrush, making it a wild, uninhabited wilderness. These hills not being far from Big river, they afforded me a secure place for my temporary headquarters while searching around for my enemies.
Early in the morning I engaged the services of a well known friend, who feigned business in several parts of the neighborhood, who returned at night and reported that only two of my persecutors were at home, whose name were James Walls and John Baker.
On the following morning when the light of day again pierced through the gloom of our retreat I went and stationed myself near the house where they both resided.
I did not watch long before Walls came out onto the porch. But I had failed to get a position sufficiently near for me to kill him at the house; I was watching for them to come to the wood pile, which would only have been about one hundred yards. I could always hit a spot as large as a man‘s hand at that distance with old “Kill-devil.”
About ten o‘clock two men rode up to the house, alighted and went in; they came out again in half an hour followed by both Walls and Baker, who started off in an opposite direction from where I lay. I then changed my position to the opposite side of the house, thinking they probably would return soon.