The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1885-01-22

|aaS mad plan 1t was TO leave this place far to
| my right, and strike the Tennessee River 12 Or
| 10 miles farther downstream. / hoped to do
| this, and to cross over the river by feating on
| some dry branch of a tree before morning. IF
| the stars came out, so that l could travel a
straight course, this hope was not unreason-
| able. But near Chattanooga, however, all the
| river would be watched and the country around
strictly patrolled. But if discouraged by the
manner in which / seemed attracted towards
| the rebel headquarters, despair was useless; so,
learning the direction both of Ringgold and
| Chattanooga from the negro, who, like all of
| his color was ready to do anything for fugi-
| tives, with whom he had a fellow feeling
| Though / did not make my true character
| known to him, pressed forward through the
rain and mud AS the road did not lead in
| the right direction, l again travelled in the
| fields and woods
| For some time I felt sure Of having the right
course in my head and hurried on. But when
| had crossed a large field of deadened timber
was completely lost. Soon, however, reached
! a road which seemed to lead right, and fol-
| lowed it with renewed vigor for several miles.
| At length l met three men on horseback. 1t
was too dark to tell whether they were negroes
or white men, but ventured to ask them,-
"How far is it to Chattanooga"
| "Three miles! :"
"Is this the right road?" )
| "Yes, sah right ahead"
for the railroad adventures, and they did not
| try to arrest me because | had accosted them so
| boldly and was going directly towards Chatta-
noOga.
But it was evident was again on the wrong
road. Indeed, so hopelessly bewidered was l
that it seemed impossible to travel any but the
wrong road. AS soon as the horsemen were out of
| sight turned and followed them three or four
| miles, until l came to large road running at
| right angles with my own, which terminated
| where it entered the other. l deliberated
some time as to which end of this new road I
| should take. These mountain roads are fear
| fully crooked, and the one had been travelling
| bent too often to give me the direction even of
the dreaded Chattanooga.
Many time had l wished for sight of the
| moon and stars. Long before the clash of arms
had been heard in oar peaceful land, before
the thunder of battle had filled Nation with
| weeping, astronomy had been my favorte
study, and 1 had often longed for the parting
| of the Clouds that, with my telescope, | might
gaze on the wonders of the world above. But
| never did l bend SO anxious an eye to the
darkened armament as in my solitary wander
| ings over the Georgia hills that memorable
night. All in vain! No North Star appeared
| to point with beam of hope to the land of the
| free
But at length made choice, and, as usual
on this night, chose wrong. After | had gone
long distance the moon did for moment
break through a rift in the clouds and pour her
welcome light down on the dark forest through
which l was passing. That one glance was
enough to show me that was heading towards
the railroad l had left in the morning Even
then the light was a compensation for all the
disappointment, but in moment it withdrew
| and the rain fell again in torrents. Weariiy
turned and retraced my tedious steps, hoping
in vain for another glimpse of the moon.
One OF my feet had been injured by an acci-
dent three months before and now panied me
exceedingly. Still l dragged myself along
My nerves had become exhausted by the long
continued tension they had endured, and now
played me many fantastic tricks which be-
came more marked as the night wore on.
passed the place where the wrong choice of
roads had been made, and still toiled ahead.
was thinly clad, and as the wind, which
had risen and was now blowing quite hard,
drove the falling showers against me, my teeth
chartered with the piercing cold. l 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 bowling fearfully through the
trees, served to keep most OF these who would
have sought my life within doors. For time
l seemed to have the lonely, fearful, stormy
night to myself.
AT last all thoughts gave way to the impera-
tive need OF rest. reeied to a large log not
far from the road, on the edge of a small patch
of woodland, and crawling close under the side
of it, not SO much for shelter from the driving
rain as for conceament from my worse dreaded
human foes. slept in peace.
Up TO the time of this profound and dream
less sleep the incidents of that terrible night
are craven on my memory as with a pen of
fire. But after waking l found a marvellous
change, and the next experience of the night
floats in memory with all the volHptuous
splendor of an opium-d dream. Had l been at
all disposed to superstition, l would have had
room enough to indulge it. A rational view of
religion would have enabled me to recognize
the manner in which Merciful Father inter-
posed to relieve my suiferings,-an interposi-
tiOn not less real effective because, as still
believe, purely natural. But at that time was
ndispesed to admit other than the material ex-
| PLANTATION. The want of sleep, fatigue, damp
ness, hunger, and intense mental tension were
enough to cause a mild species of delirium.
But the character of this was surely extraor-
binary, affecting as it did the senses and imagi-
nation only, and leaving the reason and will
altogether untouched. | was as rational-aS
able to plan, and far more able to execute, dur
ing this singular psychological experience than
| before But let me narrate facts and leave the
reader to his own explanations.
cannot tell how long sleep continued, but
/ awakened perfectly in an instant, and with
| full realization of my position. But, in addi-
| tion to this, / seemed TO hear some persons
whisper, as plainly as ever l heard a human
! voice
"Shoot him shoot him! Let us shoot him
! before he wakesl"
My first impression was that party of reb-
| els had discovered me in my hiding place, and
| that my last moment on earth had come. But
Che next thought brought new suspicion, and
L cautiously opened my eyes TO see ii my senses
were really playing me false
| Directly before me stood bush or small tree
The first glance showed me a tree and nothing
more. The next glance revealed score of
angels, all clad in lovely robes that melted
| into the softest outlines, their heads nodding
under feathery plumes above all beauty, and
| their wings, bordered with violet and pearl
| slowly waving with indescribable grace. AS
| my eye wandered farther the whole grove was
transformed into radiant paradise, in which
moved celestial beings of every order. all
instinct with life and blushing with love-
| There were rose bowers and ladies farer
than mortal, and little cherubs floating around
on cloudlets of amber and gold. Indeed
| all that ] had ever seen, read, or imagined of
| beauty comprised in that one gorgeous
vision. 1t was very singular, and of this
/ can give no explanation, except the will
of God, that no hideous, terrible, or even ugly
| image was seen. That there were not visions
of blood-hounds, chains and seafolds or other
| forms of terror, seemingly more appropriate TO
my condition, is unaccountable so far as
! know, on any theory save that of heavenly
grace, and, personally, | wish for no better. 1t
was also singular that though the brain and
! eye were thus impressed with ideal existenCes,
! ] was perfectly calm and self possessed, know