line of the Union armies for protection. Family after family thronged to Rolla as the "Mecca" of their hopes. The father, careworn and dejected, trudged along the dusty road; the mother, anxious, yet patient; the children, with a curious mixture of wonder and excitement that served to buoy up rather than depress, and all in the lowest stages of destitution. Their houses had been burned, their cattle driven away, their farms devastated and themselves cast out upon a cold and cheerless world. One could not contemplate without horror the thousands of families brutally driven from their homes, wending their way over the mountain, and with blood-stained feet crowding to Rolla and begging for the bread which their own fellow countrymen in the ranks of secession had deprived them of. Many had fathers, sons, or husbands in the ranks of the federal army and were now bearing northward mute testimonials of their devotion and sacrifices. From this heterogeneous mass of human beings Col. Phelps derived many recruits, for from the fires of persecution patriots arose, as Christians arise from the blood of martyrs.

A

There were now about ten thousand men gathered in the various camps in and about Rolla. Each separate regiment or command, like the 36th, had little or nothing to do. In the calm, beautiful evenings groups of officers would stroll from camp to camp to chat with old acquaintances or new found friends, and thus pass the hours in the interchange of friendly courtesies. favorite resort at such times was Fort Wyman, which commanded a view for many miles over the surrounding country. Far away in every direction flashed a thousand camp fires, each tent illuminated, and a little aid from the imagination would change the lovely scene to a stately city with its broad avenues, replete with life and the hum of business. Then would come the reflection that these were not the peaceful residences and happy firesides of

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quiet citizens, but the temporary shelter of those who, far away from loved ones, had taken their lives in their hands in defence of home and fatherland.

Near at hand were the sheltering tents and blazing camp-fires of Col. Phelps; southwest along the valley of Beaver Creek, and following the sinuosities of its course for miles, the camp-fires of Wyman, Sigel and Asboth's Divisions presented long avenues of flame for before each tent was blazing a pile of black-jack logs vieing with each other in the grandeur of the illumination. The exact location of each could be distinctly traced by the bright lights marked and reflected from the heavens above.

At the foot of the hill the 36th and 4th Iowa were located nearly under our feet, and one might almost fancy what the men were talking about, as around each ripple of flame they were seen grouped in conversation, or engaged in various occupations. Some, of course, were boiling the inevitable coffee pot, for it matters not what the hour, no camp-fire was ever without a soldier making coffee; some are reading, some playing cards and others simply keeping warm.

At the Fort, guards and prisoners were on equal terms of social intercourse and sat promiscuously about the fire, smoking pipes and telling yarns. One Corporal Baughman, from Phelps' regiment, was a genius in his odd, Missouri way. Talking of mosquitoes the old fellow remarked, "That reminds me of Arkansaw, whar thar's a right smart sprinkle of them kind of varmints thar. Thar is whar a man can hold his arm extended in the air for a minute and then by suddenly hauling it in, leave a hole in the air just the size and shape of his arm."

And then followed some of his experience as a pioneer in the south-west. In the early settlement of Springfield, neighbors, like angels' visits, were few and far between. For his first year's

provisions he raised a patch of buckwheat, and taking it to a mill for grinding, the miller, a South Carolinian, thought he would like some, and purchased a quantity for his own use. His wife, entirely ignorant of the manner of its preparation, undertook to make light bread of it, but after two or three trials and failures, threw the stuff away, declaring "old Baughman a fraud and cheat," and a candidate for a "licking on sight."

While on

And this one on Harrison, of the 36th, came out. duty at the Fort he patronized a Missouri woman for milk. One morning he was early after his accustomed ration of the lacteal, and found the good dame "pailing the cow." Being a Yankee, he could not wait in silence but plied the woman with questions, among which was the enquiry if her cow was a good one for milk. "Mighty good," was the reply. "She dont give a very peart flow now, yet I reckon she gives a right smart sprinkle."

And Lieut. Pritchard gave a chapter of his experience among the "Pukes." At one time on his way from Rolla to Salem, he called at a cabin for water. The family were at dinner, and when the mother arose to procure a gourd full of the aqua pura for the stranger, two stripling girls monopolized the sorghum dish, and went for its contents their level best, by dipping their corn bread into the molasses and then getting outside of the smeared and dripping morsels as greedily and speedily as possible. One, not entirely satsified with the share she was able to secure, called out to the mother on her return from the spring: "Mam! Mam! Sal dips twice into the deep to my once in the "shaller, and you know lasses is scarce."

The following was also told and vouched for as a fact: Among the secluded hills somewhere in Missouri, one of the "natives" had in the course of years, by hard labor and economy, saved up his shekels, and in addition to broad acres had an abundance of

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gold and silver. Business called him to St. Louis, and he took his daughters along, who flashed like full blown hollyhocks in ribbons and calico. While at dinner at the Planters', a guest at the opposite side of the table was observed to dip his bread into the syrup dish and proceed to its mastication. One of the daughters observing this, plunged her corn bread into the same dish in backwoods style, at the same time calling out to her sister: "Sall! Sall! Why dont you wallup yer dodger into the sop? "Pap's got as much money as enny on em, I reckon."

But it is nine o'clock. Tattoo is sounding from bugle, fife, drum and horn, and twenty regimental bands take up the refrain and a wilderness of sweet sounds and swelling notes come welling up like some strong fountain upheaving its wealth of sparkling foam and seething waters. Thanks for the regimental bands, and thrice grateful for the rich harmonies which come floating up from their silvery horns. Then wending our way slowly and thoughtfully through the various camps to our quarters, the thought impresses itself upon our minds that there is not one in all this great camp of many thousands of sleepers, who has not left some one to mourn his absence; not one so poor and mean as to be without some tie binding him to others, and liable at any time to be broken by the rude touch of war.

The large army gathered about Rolla did not altogether pine in inglorious inaction or rust with idleness. Predatory bands followed up the retreat from the south-west, and infested the country outside our picket lines. The cavalry were constantly on the wing, gathering up stray parties who ventured too near our lines, and frequently dealing telling blows, giving the "butternuts" a foretaste of what was in store for them when once the dogs of war were let loose. Wood's Kansas Rangers filled them with terror, and Wright, Montgomery, Switzler and Bowen haunted them like ghosts of the departed.

November 30th, Major Bowen proceeded with a detachment from his batallion to Salem, the county seat of Dent County, about thirty miles distant. The weather was stormy and the roads fearfully muddy, and on his arrival after dark, weary and wet, finding no enemy, he quartered his command in the vacant houses scattered in various parts of the town. Not appre-. hending danger, pickets were not posted, as should have been done. In the night they were surprised by Col. Freeman and Col. Turner's rebel bands; were fired upon through the windows and a number killed and wounded. Bowen soon rallied his terrified men around the Court House, and after a hotly contested engagement repulsed the enemy with some loss.

Captains Switzer and Montgomery were sent to Bowen's relief, and the united commands set out in pursuit of Freeman, pressing him so closely down the valley of Currant river that he was obliged to leave it for the mountains. Our cavalry continued their march some distance beyond until night, and then struck across the country to head off their wary, as well as wily, foe. Coming to an open country, they descried the enemy's camp-fires at a distance, and proceeded in silence until in close proximity to their camp, when, at the word of command, a volley from our carbines went crashing among the surprised and bewildered foe, who started up and fled in every direction, without firing a gun. The rebel loss was not known, except in prisoners, fifty of whom were taken and graced the triumphant return of the expedition to Rolla.

Captain Jenks, with a detachment from Co. A of the 36th cavalry, led an expedition in the direction of Crawford County, and, though no collision at arms with the enemy occurred, a large number of sympathisers and active secessionists were apprehended; brought to Rolla and incarcerated at the Fort, where they enjoyed a season of rest from their predatory meanderings.