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We shook her hands and scrambled down the bank to embark. It was a queer, weird-looking scene, that starting: the old Negro woman standing up on the bank, holding the flaring torch over her head, lighting the gloom under the trees and reflecting in the black-looking river below; the little black child standing with white staring eyes; and we, two ragged, gaunt-looking men seated in our frail craft with paddles in our hands, about to embark on an unknown flood. We were one step nearer freedom, but our situation was by no means pleasant.

The punt or skiff was so small it would hardly hold us; the water came within an inch or two of the top, and we had to sit very still to keep from capsizing.

LIEUT. A. COOPER,

It was so dark we could scarcely see our hands before our faces: the river seemed to be crooked, the current very rapid, and we went rushing along in the gloom we knew not where. Every few minutes we would strike a snag, or some driftwood, whirl around, take in water, and almost capsize; so we went sometimes stern first, sometimes broadside on; and to add to our misery the skiff leaked so, we had to bail frequently with our caps. After about an hour of this kind of thing we ran into some snags and drift; our coffin as we called it, for it was not much larger than one caught under a branch, tipped, half filled with water, nearly capsized and then stuck fast.

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We worked loose carefully, bailed out, talked the matter over and concluded not to proceed any further that night as the danger was too great: if we capsized we would lose the boat, provisions, our blankets, matches and tobacco; and my companion not being able to swim would probably drown. A thunderstorm was coming up, and frequent vivid flashes of lightning made the outlook more ghastly. Soon after daylight the rain ceased; then we surveyed the situation, found the banks of the river were wild and quite heavily wooded, so concluded to try a little navigation by day time.

We embarked and paddled cautiously along, keeping a good lookout on both sides of the river. When we came to a cleared space, before attempting to pass it we would go ashore and make some sort of a reconnaissance and muster up courage to proceed. Sometime in the afternoon we turned a bend in the river and saw a white man riding along the bank with several dogs following him.

He saw us at once and stopped. We paddled hard all the while and gradually sheered toward the opposite shore, then I think he noticed our ragged forage caps and suspected us.


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He hailed again but we did not catch his words, so we paddled away around a bend and left him on the bank staring at us. We put in some good work on the paddles after that. We were badly frightened but concluded our only chance was to stick to the river, as it left no trail for the hounds. Just before sunset we came to some Negroes at work carrying corn across the river in a scow; after ascertaining that there was no white man with them, we landed, got two or three of them together among the trees and had a talk.

We told them our story, as we had to the others, and asked where we were. They said we were not very far from the big bridge, where the Charleston and Columbia R. This was not very encouraging information. After a council of war in which the Negroes took a prominent part, we decided, on their advice, to abandon our boat, leave the Congaree River, strike out on foot, flank the railroad bridge, and strike the Santee River, if possible, below where it is formed by the junction of the Congaree and Wateree; trusting to luck, and our faithful allies the Negroes, for a canoe on that stream.

One old coal-black darkey, named Ishmael, said he would guide us to the railway track that night and show us the course to strike the Santee below. So we remained concealed in the woods until it was quite dark; then Ishmael came for us. As we tramped along that night, we kept up a conversation in low tones, for our guide asked us many questions. About midnight we reached the railroad where it crossed a large wagon road near the bridge; here we halted and our guide gave us what information he could about the country. He said the wagon road ran nearly parallel with the general direction of the river and advised us to keep it for a number of miles in order to be sure of striking the Santee a good distance below the bridge, when we left it.

Hearing the rumble of an approaching train, we separated, and started down the road feeling much encouraged at the prospects before us. The night was clear and pleasant and we traveled along briskly without any trouble, until the approach of dawn warned us that it was time to find a hiding place for the day.

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We concluded to keep the road again all night in order to strike the river well below the junction of the two streams, where we knew it would be larger and safer, and more easy to navigate. We passed several houses where dogs barked at us a good deal, and we had to jump in the bushes several times to avoid passing wagons and people.

We met an old darkey whom we stopped and questioned. He seemed frightened and stupid, so we did not get any information from him. At daylight we left the road again, taking the direction of the river, and concealed ourselves for the day. At night we started out to find the river and before long came to a plantation.

Early in the morning we ventured out to find some Negroes; we struck a peanut patch and dug up some, eating them raw, and filling our pockets, as we were entirely out of food. After a while we saw a Negro at work in a field; we crawled up to the fence, called him to us and going in some bushes had a talk. He seemed frightened at first, and puzzled. We asked him if we looked like Yankees. We then told him we were Yankee Officers, that we had escaped from Columbia and wanted to reach our own free country.

He gave us a piece of cornbread that he had for his own dinner, told us we were near the river, pointed out a piece of woods where we would be safe for the day, and said he would get some of the other hands to help him get a boat for us, if possible, that night. Then he pointed out a large tree, told us to be under it at dark, and he would meet us there. We kept in the swamp through the day, and at dark went to the rendezvous, and after waiting there an hour or two we heard a great shouting, hallooing, and barking of dogs, and saw a party with torches approaching our hiding place.

We were frightened at first and started to run, thinking we might have been betrayed; then concluded to remain and take the chances, as the party was so near it would have been useless to attempt to get away. When they were quite near the whole party stopped and one man came forward: he proved to be our friend of the morning and we were soon surrounded by a party of about a dozen Negro men and boys, all curious and anxious to see the Yankees.

We then discovered that all the noise, lights, and dogs, were a ruse on the part of our friends, to prevent any suspicion of their real object; they having ostensibly started out on a coon or possum hunt. They took us to a little bayou, leading into the river; a portion of them went off and soon returned coming down the bayou in a fine dugout canoe. Before long it grew very dark and a cold rain set in; we were soon wet through, and after a while concluded to stop.

We found a good place to land where the bank seemed wild and well wooded, fastened our canoe and sat under a tree until daylight. We found the Santee to be a broad quiet-looking stream, the shores seemed quite open and cultivated in places, and there was too much of an appearance of civilization for travelers who had to sneak along like thieves in the dark, scarcely daring to speak above a whisper. We paddled a few hours in the early morning, running past a ferry; then coming to a place where the woods were thick on the banks, we hauled our canoe well up out of sight, and concealed ourselves for the day.

The clouds soon cleared away, the sun shone out brightly and our hopes were ever high; we had a good boat, some food, and a broad highway to freedom before us. At night we started and paddled along in silence, mile after mile, making good progress on our course.

Catalog Record: In and out of rebel prisons | HathiTrust Digital Library

When dawn approached we found a good place to hide in a canebrake and stopped for the day as usual. The banks of the river now seemed to be getting wilder, there were fewer signs of cultivation, and we felt safer. At dark we embarked again and made good headway without interruption until about the middle of the night.

It was cold and we were swinging our paddles in fine style, when we suddenly discovered a singular object looming up ahead of us; in the midst of the night the appearance was distorted and exaggerated and seemed like a barrel in front of us. We soon discovered, however, that it was a bridge. We knew we had one to pass but had not expected to reach it before the next night at least. We were glad to think we had made so much distance on our course, but at the same time were much concerned about running the bridge which we expected to find guarded.

In fact we could already see a large fire on the bank at one end of the bridge, and distinguish armed men moving about it; so we ran in to shore, on the opposite side, and held a council of war, which ended in our deciding to run the bridge, if possible, at once; for although there was a moon, the night was not very clear, as the sky was overcast, with drifting clouds. Hugging the shore as closely as possible, we let our canoe drift slowly downstream.

In and Out of Rebel Prisons (Classic Reprint)

My comrade lay prone in the bow, with his head raised just enough to peer over, and I crouched in the stern; so by pulling on the snags and bushes that overhung the stream, and an occasional quiet dip of the paddle we proceeded till we were close to the bridge.

We could now see the guards distinctly on the opposite bank and hear them talk; we stopped a few minutes until the moon was obscured by a large cloud and then drifted ahead. Just as we were close to the bridge, my comrade, by a motion of his hand, drew my attention to a sentinel standing on the center of it; at that moment the moon shone out brightly and we could see him as plain as day, standing with his gun leaning on one arm, the other resting on the rail.

He was looking directly up the stream and appeared nearer our end of the bridge than the other, and it seemed strange that he had not discovered us as we were coming down, but I suppose it was because the sky had been cloudy and we had kept so near the bank; but now if he turned his head our way he could not help seeing us. I thought our luck had left us, my heart thumped against my ribs—we hardly breathed—but we kept on floating down, watching with our heads turned towards him; till, in a few minutes, though it seemed a great many, we glided under the bridge. We checked the boat for an instant, and then floated out on the lower side.

Looking back over our shoulders we watched him, but now his back was to us and in a few minutes we turned a little angle of the bank and left him out of sight. We took off our ragged caps simultaneously and waved them around our heads in a silent cheer.

ISBN 13: 9780265204184

We were decidedly elated now; we had passed a dangerous obstacle and were many a mile nearer freedom than we had thought a few hours before. We kept the paddles going at a lively rate the rest of that night, and as dawn approached, pulled up to the shore, selected a lonely-looking thicket and stopped for the day. It was now the ninth of December, we had been putting ourselves on a very short allowance of food all along, and this day we ate our last mouthful of cornbread and scraped the last raw peanut from the bottoms of our pockets.

A dark we started out again as usual. This night I witnessed one of the most beautiful scenes I ever beheld, and we also had some exciting experiences.