Accordingly, though weary near to exhaustion, we returned and camped there, threw out our pickets, and made every preparation to give the marauders a warm reception should they appear. We slept on our arms, ready for any emergency, but the night passed and we were undisturbed. The next morning dawned on us clear and beautiful. All our apprehensions of danger had passed with the darkness. Our pickets were withdrawn. The scouts, who had been sent out to gather news of the scattered settlers, had come back with no tidings of the foe we had awaited. Consequently, relieved of all military restraint, we gave ourselves up for the time to the preparation and enjoyment of an early breakfast. The wagons were unpacked of their provisions. The horses were picketed, or were turned loose for grazing. The prisoners, disarmed, were allowed comparative freedom. Fires were lighted here and there for cooking. And thus we were spread out over a large area, forgetful of the enemy, without a thought of an attack, and bent only on making ready to satisfy the cravings of hunger. [Illustration] X An Intrepid Charge [Illustration] Then occurred the scene which gives us one of the glimpses of John Brown for the sake of which these reminiscences have been written. Suddenly, over the hill or rising ground some half or third of a mile away, two horsemen came up at full speed. "Look! look!" was whispered in suppressed voices from one to another of our party, and all eyes were upturned in that direction. Observing us, the horsemen as suddenly turned on their heels, and disappeared the way they came, leaving us stupefied with doubt and wonder. In a moment more, however, the heads of a whole troop rose in sight, and the cry, "The Missourians! the Missourians!" rang through our camp in startling accents. We were in dismay, for we were entirely unprepared for attack and there was no time to make ready. We were apparently caught just as our enemy had been surprised by ourselves. Men sprang, some for their arms, some for their horses. Whether to fight or to try to escape was uppermost in their minds,—each could settle that question only for himself. At any rate, every one felt that a daring and determined foe, apparently numbering a hundred, which was double our own number, could, in the condition in which we were, utterly cut us to pieces and destroy us at a blow. What grave emotions that thought aroused! It is difficult for one, never thrown into any such situation, to realize or in any degree even imagine the feelings that may surge through the bosom of men thus placed. Accounts have been given of what panic-stricken crowds or armies will sometimes do, but a description of what they _feel_ on such occasions of disaster was never yet fully penned or painted by man.