"I am all right," I said; "but I wish you would go and see to that crippled man, for I am afraid he is nearly killed." "Very well, but I shall look after you first." By this time he was handling my arms, and pressing here and there on my body, I thought pretty harshly; for he either found or made some sore places. He ordered his ambulance, in which I was taken to head-quarters. As I was badly bruised, the surgeon urged me to take morphine. I was sure of not needing it, but promised to call for it if needed, and he allowed me to go without it. I found myself too lame to resume work for a couple of days; then I commenced again moderately, but carried marks of bruised flesh for a month or more. About two weeks after this, while investigating a new arrival of a company of slaves, I learned that some of them were shot by their pursuing masters, and one woman's babe was instantly killed in its mother's arms; but the mother succeeded in passing into our lines, with her dead child in her arms, to be buried, as she said, "_free_." A woman and a little boy of three years, with dresses torn with briers to shreds, and feet and limbs swollen and bleeding with scratches, came in, from whom I was getting her sad history. Two gentlemen passing by, halted, and said one: "This looks as if these would have been much better off at their old homes. Don't you think so?" "I think this picture shows great effort in escaping from their old home," I replied. "Do you live here?" "I am only a temporary resident here. My home is in Michigan." "May I ask your name?" I gave it, and he continued: "And so am I from Michigan. I've heard of you before, I thought this was some good Samaritan," giving his hand for a hearty shake. "And who is this?" I asked. "I'm Dr.----, from one of our Michigan cities. And what are you doing here?" "I am doing just the work you see before us." "Yes, and I saw a span of mules trying their best to kill her two weeks ago, when they came sailing down that Paradise Road up yonder; but they couldn't do it," said his guide. I asked him what he was doing. He said he had just come to see if there was any thing he could do. I told him of the new camp on the Ralston plantation, and of this camp of four thousand. I hoped he would look after these, as we proposed to leave soon for other fields of labor below. On March 24, 1864, I took letters to post-office, and found one from our dear friend, Addie Johnson, assistant matron of Soldiers' Home, in Columbus, Kentucky. I went to General Tuttle for an order for transportation to Baton Rouge, and, as usual, introduced myself by handing my official papers. Being a very large man, he was in proportion consequential. "What do you want?" I told him I would like transportation to Baton Rouge. "I don't know," he said; "that I am here to make the Government a great benevolent society, by giving every thoroughly loyal and earnest Christian man or woman transportation."