There had been with us a farmer, named Gibbs, mounted on a white mule, which ran like a deer. Gibbs was perfectly cool, and when we came out of the valley, he had pulled out a plug of tobacco and taken a customary bite, with the remark that he guessed we were all right now. I asked Gibbs if he knew the road to Hickman, on the Mississippi. To which he replied: "Oh, yes." "Then come with me," I said, "and lead us there;" and I took him to the head of the column. Telling the sergeant who led to follow Gibbs, I fell out and began to drop back to the rear. Unfortunately, the white mule would not lead, and in a few moments Gibbs rejoined me. I then took a couple of young men, who were also escaping with us, up to the head, and giving them the same directions, again fell back. Unluckily, excited and riding on a gallop by moonlight, they passed the Hickman, and continued on the Paducah road. Gibbs fell out of the column, and rejoined me, as it passed. I told him he had better not run this unnecessary risk; but he said he had been offered $200 for his mule, and would risk anything with it. Bischoff also fell out, and we three rode at the rear. We did not ride so long. Suddenly from the bushes and woods on the side of the road, there was a flash; and bang! bang! came the fire of our hidden foes. In an instant every horse was at full speed, rushing by. My own gave a wild bound. Poor Tennessee! he had been acting nobly from the first, and I thought he was only excited by the firing. My attention was chiefly upon the men, but as I gathered up the curb-rein to check him, I noticed that it was gone on the side next to the firing. Still I did not think he had been hit. But he put his head down, and rushed between Gibbs and Bischoff. They caught him by the bridle, but in a moment he had dragged them half off their saddles. I told them to let go, and he dashed forward, striking madly against the horse in front. The concussion sent us over to the ditch, but he did not stop. With his head down, and running straight as an arrow, he flew by the entire column. I returned my sabre to the scabbard, and winding the snaffle-rein round my wrists, made every effort to stop him. It was in vain. I exerted all my strength; I used all the art I was master of, or that Mr. Rarey had taught; I drew his head from side to side, till his mouth touched the stirrups; but he went on, on, on at the same furious pace. The road lay through thick woods and down a series of steep hills. On one of these it turned. The horse refused to follow its windings, and kept straight on. It was like a locomotive rushing through the woods. There were two trees before me, close together. On he went, dashing between them. He struck against one and reeled, but did not fall. Beyond, and on the steepest of the hill, lay a fallen tree. His head was down almost to his knees, and I knew he could not see. I made a great, a last effort to raise him. It failed--the tree seemed under me--there was a crash--a