The National tribune., 1897-07-29

seeing them abandon further pursuit. When
night came he left his hiding place, passed
around the town on the same side, and a
short distance below found a canoe, with
which he iourneyed down the river toy night.
He would sink the boat By filing 1t with
stones just before day break, and secret him.
self in the bI ush until night came again.
In this way he worked his way down the
Tennessee until he was about so miles from
Chattanooga, passing Mtchel's extern orised
gunhoat several times. This was a little
steamer which that enterprising officer had
captured and fitted up for patrol duty on the
Tennessee above and below his camp. Had
it been day Wight instead of night that VOL
lam travelled. be would readily have de-
tected the d ference, bnt as it was he viewed
the craft with suspicion and fear and kept
out of sight by putting into shore under
cover rs she passed.
A FATAL MISTAKE.
At last, after he had reached considerable
! distance down, he began to travel IN the day
! time which WAS a faial mistake. He was
spied by band of rebel cavalry and capt
ured almost within hailing distance of
MitchePs lines. He tried to make them
| believe he was Confederate, but a Lieuten-
ant of the party, who had helped to capture
| him the first time, was present, and recog-
J nized Wollam as one of the train-stealers,
| when he was at once sent to Chattanooga
and soon arrived, in irons, and was again ini-
! prisoned with US in Atlanta jail, after having
had his liberty over three weeks
We were much surprised when he re-
turned, for we felt certain that he had
reached the Federal lines or, in case he had
not that he was dead. 1t seemed as if tate
4 al
were destined to reach our friends and make
| known our unfortunate condition.
But to return. After we had been in the
| Atlanta jail a short time the prison-keeper
had our chains and handcuif, taken off,
thinking, no doubt that between the iron
cages in which we were shut at night, the
great iron door of the hall, and the prison
guards we would be safe. This VAS great
relief. No one who has not worn such in
cumbrances can realize what a grateful
change IT made in our situation. We had
worn them so long In couples that we would
! find ourselves involuntarily, at times, fol-
| lowing each other about as if Still com PEELED
| to do 80 with chains.
My chainmate, Marx Wood, had been very
sick with fever, the result of severe exposure
| and The confinement and bad treatment in
prison. IL seemed for time that he would
never get up again. We did all we could
for the poor fellow, whose mind was in a
/ delerium, while his boiy was but skele-
ton. Alter much coaXing and pleading on
our part, doctor was sent in, who admins
tered medicine, aud after the fever had
taken its course | had the satisfaction of
seeing him change for the better ! some
times thought that perhaps we would do
but mercliul kindness to let him die of
disease and thus, possibly, save him from a
worse fate.
THE TIE THAT BINDS.
But Wood seemed nearer 10 me than any
other, not only because were from the
same company and regiment, but from our
association IN the trying days and nights
while We were fugitives in the mountains
He seemed to regard me more in the light
of guardian and protector and relied upon
me more than upon himself
This did not make him the most useful
comrade in close emergency, for be did
not seem to consider himself capable of act
ing without first consulting me. Mark was
al Englishman by birth, with whom / had
no acquaintance before our enlistment Be-
fore entering the service he lived at Portage,
and was IN the employ of Austin Van Blair
cum. lie was also IN the employ of William
Wakefield, of Bowling Green, for some time.
lie was Il years OF age, bright, free,
thoughtless rollieking Englishman; good
humored, inpuisive, generous, and brave.
and had much of the spirit OF adventure in
his composition SO characteristic of his
countrymen. His gratitude toward me- to
whom he attributed the saving OF his life,
never ceased to his dying breath. And, on
my TT, / may say, perhaps, as truthfully
OF poor, unfortunate Mark that at the criti-
cal moment in my life he came to my res
cue, and by speaking q word in the nick Of