t my hog!"
It was too late to back out now. We had the hog, and had to make the
most of it, even if we did ruin a needy and destitute family. We went on
until we came to the Conasauga river, when lo and behold! the canoe was
on the other side of the river. It was dark then, and getting darker,
and what was to be done we did not know. The weather was as cold as
blue blazes, and spitting snow from the northwest. That river had to be
crossed that night. I undressed and determined to swim it, and went in,
but the little thin ice at the bank cut my feet. I waded in a little
further, but soon found I would cramp if I tried to swim it. I came out
and put my clothes on, and thought of a gate about a mile back. We went
back and took the gate off its hinges and carried it to the river and put
it in the water, but soon found out that all three of us could not ride
on it; so one of the party got on it and started across. He did very
well until he came to the other bank, which was a high bluff, and if
he got off the center of the gate it would capsize and he would get a
ducking. He could not get off the gate. I told him to pole the gate up
to the bank, so that one side would rest on the bank, and then make a
quick run for the bank. He thought he had got the gate about the right
place, and then made a run, and the gate went under and so did he,
in water ten feet deep. My comrade, Fount C., who was with me on the
bank, laughed, I thought, until he had hurt himself; but with me, I
assure you, it was a mighty sickly grin, and with the other one, Barkley
J., it was anything but a laughing matter. To me he seemed a hero.
Barkley did about to liberate me from a very unpleasant position.
He soon returned with the canoe, and we crossed the river with the hog.
We worried and tugged with it, and got it to camp just before daylight.

I had a guilty conscience, I assure you. The hog was cooked, but I did
not eat a piece of it. I felt that I had rather starve, and I believe
that it would have choked me to death if I had attempted it.

A short time afterward an old citizen from Maury county visited me.
My father sent me, by him, a silver watch--which I am wearing today--
and eight hundred dollars in old issue Confederate money. I took two
hundred dollars of the money, and had it funded for new issue, 33 1/3
cents discount. The other six hundred I sent to Vance Thompson, then
on duty at Montgomery, with instructions to send it to