The record-union., 1899-06-11

nortant information. the Federals soon
! abandoned the chase and returned 10
| the scene of the encounter. There Har-
old found seven of his comrades dead
and sixteen wounded The loss of the
Confederates was still greater.
| They continued to reconnoiter, riding
| far into the country, and returned just
before dawn to pick up the dead, the
wounded having been carried into camp
by a small detachment from headQuar-
tiers.
| That night Harold wrote the first en-
try in the little red book that savors of
real war.
1T seemed heartless and cruel to STAY
a brother in this way" he wrote. Il
hardly knew what I was doing. II
mad known am sure l would have fled.
My sword has had it's first taste of
blood. fear it Will not be the last
| Harold's comrades were free and gen.
erous in their praises Of his proves in
| the skirmish, and it won for him his
first promotion. Three days later the
Colonel's orderly summoned him to the
Colonel's tent
| Harold stood at salute. Colonel Mar
shall grasped him by the hands.
Il wish to congratulate you, Pear
main" he said, ION your conduct when
under fire for the first time. I take
pleasure in raising you to the rank Of
! Second Lieutenant, and l shall occa-
sionally require your services as aide,
particularly in carrying dispatches
which I do not wish to intrust to an
orderly
| The young trooper could hardly be-
lieve the words. He murmured Thank
you," and with the customary salute,
quickly retired. Before (he reached the
other part Of the camp assigned to his
| troop the news of his promotion had
been received, and the cheers which
greeted his appearance testified to the
feeling of his comrades that the honor
was we'll deserved.
Then came the sad days during the
last Of August and the early September
days of '62. The entries in the little
red book were brief, indeed, but they
were as full Of significance as they were
short. Only the day before the shoot
ing of General Phil Kearney by hand
full OF rebels, among whom he had wan
dered by mistake, Lieutenant Pearmain
had been intrusted with valuable dis
patches to him, which, if they had ever
reached him, would have changed the
course he was then pursuing, and
would have saved him from death.
The night was dark and rainy, and as
he rode facing the wind the chance
seemed good that his presence would
not be heard by any stray Confederates
in the front. The distance was some
thing less than fifteen miles, and it was
not necessary for him to arrive before
morning He, therefore, moved as quiet
ly as possible, walking his horse in the
middle Of the soft road as he passed
places where an ambush seemed pos
sible.
Yet, when he was least expecting it,
an arm, clad in the gray of the Confed-
crate uniform, passed before him. and
moment later half a dozen hands
were upon the bride of the horse The
animal recoiled, rearing upon his legs.
Lieutenant Pearmain was taken bodily
from his saddle, and a moment later
lay upon the ground bound hand and
foot. s6ff
He was searched with unnecessary
roughness, and when the dispatch was
found to be written in cipher the anger
of his captorS knew no bounds Without
loosening the painful thongs which
bound himl he was thrown across a sad
die, his eyes blindfolded and carried
rapidly away into the darkness of the
night.
1t was a night of torture.
He learned enough from his captors
to know that they were not regular
members of the Confederate army, but
belonged to a class of men, half mill
tary and half outlaw, called bum
mers.'
They sometimes proved useful by
waylaying the bearers of DISPATCHES, for
which they were generally we'll raid by
the Generals to whom they were Of
value Their CUSTOM was to follow both
armies during an important campaign,
and it sometimes mattered but little to
them which side they served as long as
they were we'll paid
The leader of this band of; 'bummers''
was Big Bill'' Simmons. a soubriquet
which will doubtless bring back le-
gion of memories, hardly pleasant to
other Union soldiers unfortunate
enough to have fallen into his clutches.
Lieutenant Pearmain knew it was
dawn when his captors came to a halt
by the slender rays Of light which pene-
trated the cloth with which he was
blindfolded. He was taken from the
saddle and rudely thrown upon the
ground. Smarting and swollen as his
hands were, the fiat surface of the
ground and its dewey moisture We're in
finitely refreshing to him. Their ar
rival was evidently expected by about
half a dozen other men, so he judged
from the voices He listened With in
tense interest to their conversatio
What yuh'uns got?" a rough voice
asked
"Nahthin' much. I recken. Got a
young Yank. He he'd despatch: but
we couldn't mex nahthin' outern tan
I recken yuh'uns kyant nuther Couldn't
even tell who it was fer. But we've
brung i'm erlong He's lootenant or
suthin. Mebbee we'uns can mex suthin'
out O. i'm. How's Their gyrl?"-
'.How's Their gyrl?" came an answer
from another voice. Guess yuh'uns
know ez we'll s we'uns. She's been
tekin' on just Their same. Wonderin'
why her daddy don't come. I tell her
he's either dead er else kayn't raise, Their
cash ter send fer 'er. Or mebbee, I tell
'er ee's clean forgot all erbout err in the
midst O. Their greet cause tibet he's a
fightin' fer
WELL yer'e a gret idyot ter try emmy
O. Their comfortin' biz on 'er." the leader
replied in a somewhat annoyed tone.
Jest let 'er shift an keep 'er ter work.
She's a master smart cook; makes Their
bes' pone 1 ever tasted But yuh'uns
never was any good. no, how Yer don't
understand human natur' What yuh'
uns got fer grub? Guess we'uns are a
sight hungrier than yuh'uns ridin' all
night-an nuthin' much ter show fer