CHAPTER VI.

Stupendous "Man Hunt"--My Own Adventures--Playing Acrobat--Perilous Crossing of a River--Hunger--The Bloodhounds--Flying for Life--No Sun or Star to Guide me--Traveling in a Circle--Nearing Chattanooga--Lost in Deadened Timber--Glimpse of the Moon--Fatigue Produces Phantoms--Dreadful Storm--I Sleep and enter Fairy Land--Glorious Visions--Reality--A Picket--Romance Faded--Horrible Situation--Day Dawn--No Relief.

On leaving the train, I confess for a moment my heart sunk within me. I was alone, for no one happened to strike off in the same direction I did. I knew not where I was--whether fifteen or fifty miles from Chattanooga--neither had I the most indefinite idea of the lay of the country. I only knew that north or northwest would bring me to our forces; but the sun did not shine, to give me even the points of the compass.

The description of places and distances given in the preceding chapter, was mostly obtained from Confederates, who afterward visited and talked with us.

I supposed that the country would be aroused, and a vigorous pursuit made, but my worst anticipations proved far short of the reality. It was Saturday, the 12th of April, and was a general muster-day for the conscripts over the whole country; but as soon as the news of our raid was received, drill was suspended, and every one turned out in search of us. Then was organized the most stupendous man-hunt that ever took place in the South. Horsemen hurried at full speed along every road, and proclaimed the news as they went. Each planter, with his dependents, for at least fifty miles in every direction, took his bloodhounds and scoured the woods. Every cross-road, every river, ford, or ferry, was at once picketed by bodies of cavalry. Large rewards were offered, and thousands of soldiers pursued us, in addition to the universal uprising of the citizens. The only partially known object of the expedition imparted a tone of romantic exaggeration to it, and made the people doubly anxious to solve the mystery. The feeling in northern Georgia may be best conceived by imagining what would be the excitement in the immediate vicinity, if a party of Confederates would seize a train near Philadelphia, and attempt to run it through Baltimore, especially if the movements of their armies should be such as would lead to the belief that this was only part of a grand scheme!

I will now give a personal sketch of my own adventures after leaving the train. It was still moving when I jumped off,--fast enough to make me perform several inconvenient gyrations on reaching the ground. Most of the party were ahead of me. Three had taken the eastern side of the road, and the remainder the opposite side. I followed the example of the latter, and soon reached the cover of the stunted pines that grew near the road. Feeling the necessity of getting away as far as possible before the enemy could pursue us on foot, I struck off at a rapid rate.

Soon I passed the little brook that ran along the foot of the hill, and pressed on up its steep side. There were three of my comrades not far from me on the left, but I could not overtake them, and still proceeded alone. I knew that pursuit would be rapid and instantaneous. I seemed to hear the tread of cavalry in every breeze that sighed through the branches of the naked forest!

The country was rough and uneven. On the bottoms, and by the streams, were a few pines; but on the mountain spurs, which here are a low continuation of the Cumberland range, the timber is mostly oak and other varieties, which were not then in foliage. This was a great disadvantage, because it left no hiding place, and exposed us to the view of the watchful eyes of our enemies.

Soon I found myself in the bend of a little river that empties into the Tennessee at Chattanooga. It was swollen by continuous rains, and for some time I searched along its bank for a place to cross the turbulent stream; but, seeing none, and believing that death was behind, I committed myself to its angry current, and, after being thoroughly soaked, and almost washed away, I succeeded in reaching the opposite side. Here the bank rose in an almost perpendicular precipice of more than a hundred feet in hight. I dared not recross the stream, for I knew the enemy could not be far behind, and, therefore, I clambered up the precipice. Several times when near the top did I feel my grasp giving way; but as often did some bush or projecting rock afford me the means of saving myself. At last, after the most imminent danger, I reached the top utterly exhausted, pulled myself out of sight, and breathed for a while.

I had had no breakfast or dinner, and had spent not only that day, but many preceding ones, in the most fatiguing exertion. I was very faint and sick, and almost out of hope. I had no guide even in the direction of home, for the sun still lingered behind an impenetrable veil.

While I thus lay and mused on the unenviable situation in which I found myself placed, a sound reached my ears that again sent the blood leaping wildly through my veins. It was the distant baying of a bloodhound! Never again will I read the story of human beings, of any color, pursued by these revolting instruments of man's most savage "inhumanity to man," with indifference!

I started to my feet, and a few moments' listening confirmed my first impression. It was true. They were after us with their bloodhounds! not one pack alone, but all in the country, as the widening circle, from which echoed their dismal baying, revealed but too plainly. There was no longer safety in idleness, and I at once started up, and hurried off, as nearly at right angles to the railroad as I could ascertain by the whistling of the trains, which seemed to be moving in great numbers, and much excited. The fearful barking of the dogs also gave me a clue to avoid them. Faint and weak as I was, excitement supplied the place of strength, and I rapidly placed a considerable distance between myself and pursuers.

Away across the hills and streams I sped, I knew not how far--I only knew that the noise of the dogs grew fainter and fainter as the evening wore on. I had distanced them, and began to breathe freer. I even indulged the hope of being able ultimately to work my way to the lines, and still think I might have done so, had the weather been clear enough to permit my traveling by the sun or stars.

As I descended the long slope of a wooded hill into a wild, solitary valley, I saw a rude hut, and a man in the garden beside it. I approached him to inquire the road to Chattanooga, though that was the last place I wished to go. The answer was, that it was only eight miles. This was nearer than I liked to be, as I rightly judged the pursuit would be most vigorous in that vicinity. However, I continued my journey in that direction, until out of sight, and then climbed up the hill at right angles to my former course. I traveled this way for some time, when an incident occurred that would have been amusing, had it been less vexatious.

I had often heard that persons who were lost would naturally travel in a circle, but did not attach a great deal of credit to the assertion. Now I had the proof. I had crossed a road, and left it for something like an hour, during which time I walked very fast, when, to my surprise, I came to the same place again.

I was considerably annoyed to thus lose my labor, but struck over the hill in what I supposed to be the right direction. Judge of my astonishment when, after an hour or more of hard walking, I found myself at precisely the same spot again! So much time had been lost, that I now could hear the bloodhounds once more. I was perplexed beyond measure. A few steps further brought me to the same river I had crossed hours before. In sheer desperation I took the first road I came to, and followed it a long time, almost regardless of where it should lead, or whom I should meet.

Thus I pressed forward till twilight was deepening into darkness, when I met a negro driving a team. From him I learned that I was within four miles of Chattanooga; words can not describe the tide of vexation, disappointment, and anger that swept over my breast, when I found that in spite of my most determined efforts I was steadily approaching the lion's mouth. But it was no use to give way to despair. Learning from the negro the direction of both Ringgold and Chattanooga, I resolved to make an effort to reach the Tennessee river some eight or ten miles below Chattanooga. For this purpose, I struck across the fields in the proper course.

For some time now I did well enough, but before long I came to a large field of deadened timber. When I had crossed this, I was again completely lost. Soon, however, I reached a road which seemed to lead right, which I followed with renewed vigor for several miles. At last I met three men on horseback; it was too dark to tell whether they were negroes or white men, but I ventured to ask them:

"How far is it to Chattanooga?"

"Three miles!"

"Is this the road?"

"Yes, sah! right ahead."

I had afterwards reason to believe that these were men sent out to arrest us, and that they did not stop me just because I was going right to Chattanooga!

But it was evident that I was again on the wrong road. Indeed, it seemed as if I was so hopelessly bewildered that it was impossible for me to travel any but the wrong road. As soon as the horsemen got out of sight, I turned and followed them three or four miles, when I came to a large road running at right angles with my own, which terminated where it joined the other. I deliberated for some time as to which end of this new road I should take. I had no guide to direct me, for my old road was too crooked even to give me the direction of the dreaded Chattanooga.

Many a time have I wished for a sight of the moon and stars. Long before the clash of arms was heard in our land, before the thunder and the wailing of battle had filled a nation with weeping, have I waited and wished for the parting away of the tedious clouds, that, with my telescope, I might gaze on the wonders and beauties of the worlds above. But never did I bend a more anxious eye to the darkened firmament, than in my solitary wanderings over the Georgia hills that memorable night. But all in vain; no North Star appeared to point with beam of hope to the land of the free.

At length I started off on the road that I thought most likely to lead me in the right direction; but as usual I had the misfortune of being wrong; for after I had gone a long distance, the moon broke through a rift in the clouds, and for a moment poured her light down on the dark forest through which I was passing. That one glance was enough to show me that I was heading back toward the railroad I had left in the morning. Wearily I turned and retraced my tedious steps.

One of my feet had been injured by an accident three mouths before, and now pained me excessively. Still I dragged myself along. My nerves had become completely exhausted by the long-continued tension they had sustained, and now played me many fantastic tricks, which became more vivid as the night waned away. I passed the place where I had made the wrong choice of roads, and still toiled on.

The rain fell in torrents now. I was thinly clad, and as the wind, which was blowing quite hard, drove the falling showers against me, my teeth chattered, and I shivered to the bone. I passed many houses, and feared the barking of the dogs might betray me to watchers within; but my fears were groundless. The storm, which was then howling fearfully through the trees, served to keep most of those who sought our lives, within doors. Even the barking of the bloodhounds was heard but seldom, and then far in the distance. I seemed to have the lonely, fearful, stormy night to myself.

At last all thoughts gave way to the imperative necessity of repose. I reeled to a large log that lay by the side of the road, on the edge of a small patch of woodland, and crawling close under the side of it, not for shelter from the driving rain, but for concealment from my worse-dreaded human foes, I slept in peace.

Up to this time the image of that terrible night is graven on my memory with a scorching pen of fire. After this it changes, and with the exception of a few real incidents that aroused me from my trance, it floats before me in more than the voluptuous splendor of an opium-dream. The cause of this change is a curious chapter in mental philosophy. It was no doubt purely physical, resulting from want of sleep, fatigue, dampness, lack of food, and intense mental exertion. But let me narrate facts.

When I awoke, it was with a full realization of my position. But in addition to this, I seemed to hear some one whisper, as plainly as ever I heard human voice:

"Shoot him! shoot him! Let us shoot him before he wakes!"

My first impression was, that a party of rebels had discovered my hiding-place, and were about to murder me in my sleep, to save themselves further trouble. But the next thought brought a new suspicion, and I cautiously opened my eyes to test it, and see if my senses were really playing false.

Directly before me stood a small tree. The first glance showed a tree and nothing more. The next showed a score of angels, all clad in softest outlines, their heads nodding with feathery plumes above all beauty, and their wings slowly waving with borders of violet and pearl. The whole forest was suddenly transformed into a paradise of radiant glory, in which moved celestial beings of every order, all instinct with life, blushing with love, and bending their kindest regards on me. Ladies, too, were there, fairer than ever walked the fields of earth, embowered in roses; little cherubs with laughing faces, on cloudlets of amber and gold, floated around. Indeed, all that the imagination could conceive of beauty was comprised in that one gorgeous, glorious vision.

The most singular fact of all was, that although the brain and eye were thus impressed with that which had no real existence, I was perfectly calm and self-possessed, knowing the whole thing to be but a pleasing illusion. I did not in the least fear these figures of the brain, but on the contrary found them pleasant company. Not always, however, did they personate the same characters. Occasionally they would change to the old feudal knights, sometimes on horseback, sometimes on foot, but always clad in glittering armor.

The finest landscapes would start up from the cold, dull hills around, like mirages in the desert; panoramas of the most vivid action passed before me; even language was not denied to my visitants, whose voices were inexpressibly melodious; every thought that passed through my mind seemed sounded audibly at my side.

Thus through the visions of night and darkness I passed rapidly on, for now I felt refreshed and endowed with new strength. Even the merciless pelting of the cold rain seemed pleasant and luxurious as a cool bath in the parching heats of harvest. But beyond these illusions, another faculty seemed to penetrate and show me, though but dimly, the true face of the country.

Once the two became mingled, and very nearly involved me in a serious difficulty. At a cross-road, a considerable distance ahead, I saw what I at first supposed to be some more of my spectral friends, standing around a fire, the ruddy blaze of which served to render them clearly visible. They were not quite so beautiful as those I had seen before, but still I advanced carelessly toward them, and would probably have continued to do so, until too late for retreat, had not my progress been arrested by a sound of all others the least romantic. It was the squealing of a pig they had caught, and were killing, preparatory to roasting in the fire.

This at once drove away the seraphs and the angels, and left me in full possession of my faculties. I listened, and soon became convinced that they were a picket, sent out there to watch for just such persons as myself. They had some dogs with them, which, fortunately, were too much absorbed in the dying agonies of the poor pig to give attention to me.

I crawled cautiously away, and made a long circuit through the fields. A dog made himself exceedingly annoying by following and barking after me. I did not apprehend danger from him, for I yet had my trusty revolver, and had managed to keep it dry all the time; but I feared he would attract the attention of the picket, who might easily have captured me, for I was too weary to elude them.

At last he left me, and I again returned to the road. I had not gone far till I came to three horses hobbled down, which, no doubt, belonged to the picket behind, and had to make another circuit to avoid driving them away before me. On again reaching the road, I pressed on as fast as possible, hoping, before the morning light, to be beyond the circle of guarded roads, and the line of planters who were scouring the woods with their dogs. It was a vain hope, but I knew not then the gigantic plan of search which had been organized.

The visions which had made the lonely forest almost a paradise, now grew dimmer and dimmer. The roses faded, and all the forms of beauty vanished into thin air.

The chill horror of my situation froze deeper into my veins. I would find myself walking along, almost asleep, then would wander a short distance from the road to a secluded spot,--throw myself down on the flooded ground, and sleep a few minutes; then would awaken, almost drowned by the pitiless rain, and so sore and benumbed that I could scarcely stagger to my feet, and plod onward.

Thus that dreary night wore on; it seemed an age of horror, and placed a shuddering gulf between my present life and the past. But at last the cold gray of a clouded morning broke through the weeping sky. Day brought no relief. Every one I saw seemed to be a foe. Still I did not avoid them. I carefully washed all traces of that terrible night from my clothes. The wet did not matter, for the rain was still falling fast enough to account for that.