s, of Mississippi,
stood in comradeship with clasped hands.

I recognized the majority of those disembarking passengers who passed
by me within a few feet, but saw nothing of Kirby, the deputy sheriff,
or caught any glimpse of their prisoners. The only conclusion was that
they still remained on board. I was not at all surprised at this, as
their intention undoubtedly was to continue with the steamer, and
return south the moment the cargo of commissary and quartermaster's
stores had been discharged. Neither had any interest in the war, and
there was nothing ashore to attract them which could not be comfortably
viewed from the upper deck. It was safer far to keep close guard over
their charges, and see that they remained out of sight.

We had unloaded perhaps a quarter of our supplies, when an officer
suddenly appeared over the crest of the bank and hailed the captain.
There was a tone of authority in his voice which caused us to knock off
work and listen.

"Is Captain Corcoran there? Oh, you are Captain Corcoran. Well, I
bring orders from headquarters. You are to discontinue unloading,
Captain, retain the remainder of the provisions on board, and prepare
at once to take on men. What's your capacity?"

"Take on men? Soldiers, you mean?"

"Exactly; we've got to find quarters for about seven hundred. Two of
those boats up yonder will take horses. The troops will be along
within an hour."

"We are not to return south, then?"

"No; you're going in the other direction--up the Rock. You better get
busy."

He wheeled his horse and disappeared, leaving the angry captain venting
his displeasure on the vacant air. Kirby, evidently from some position
across the deck, broke in with a sharp question.

"What was that, Corcoran? Did the fellow say you were not going back
to St. Louis?"

"That's just what he said. Damn this being under military orders.
We've got to nose our way up Rock River, with a lot of those measly
soldiers aboard. It's simply hell. Here you, Mapes, stop that
unloading, and get steam up--we've got to put in a night of it."

"But," insisted Kirby in disgust, "I'm not going up there; aren't there
any boats going down?"

"How the hell should I know? Go ashore and find out--you haven't
anything else to do. According to what he said, this boat casts off in
half an hour and heads north."

The men below knocked off work willingly enough, and, taking advantage
of the confusion on board, I