hful age of only eighteen years, that I had become much interested
in him. While prostrated on his bed of cotton, he had talked to me of
his home and mother, and had spoken bravely of his chances of dying.
With a bright look on his face, he had said:

"I may pull through, Captain, and I may not; but I won't give up till I
have to, for mother needs me; only I want you to let her know if
anything happens."

I had done what I could for the boy, and on several occasion had gotten
him milk and other things. He had given me his mother's name and
address, but the absence of writing material at the time had prevented
the making of other than a mental memorandum, and the necessity for a
better record had been overlooked in the confusion and excitement of the
trip. When the main body of our command caught up with me at Shreveport
I was shocked to learn that he was dead. I had had doubts as to his
living to get home, but so early a death was a surprise and shock, which
latter was turned to self-reproach and sorrow when I found that I could
not recollect the name and address given to me.

Fifteen years afterward, during which time I frequently tried in vain to
recollect the data necessary to identify him, the name, address and
other knowledge suddenly came to me one day when I was not thinking
about it. At once I sat down and wrote to the mother, and in due time
received a beautiful letter in reply. My letter was the first word she
had received of the boy since he had last written to her in good health
and spirits, except that the books of his company bore his name, with an
"absent without leave" score against it. I recollected that he had told
me of his having slipped off to forage a little on his own account at
the time of his capture. Making an affidavit of the facts as I knew
them, I sent it to her, and the pension which she could not get upon the
records as they stood was promptly allowed her on the affidavit
furnished.

After waiting for the Federal transports until tired, our guards placed
us on a couple of rebel boats, and we started down the river for the
Yankee fleet.

I was on the boat with Colonel Samansky, a Pole. He had been an officer
in his own country, had enlisted in the Confederate army, and had gained
the rank of Colonel. He lived in Texas and expected to remain there.
When he asked me how I had been treated, the only complaint that I could
consistently make against those having me in charge was that I had