“By this time the Colonel had recovered somewhat from his excitement, and quietly and in a low voice told us how he came to be there. He said that when he was wounded on the works of Dolinsburg and left for dead, that some one came along and stanched the flow of blood by binding some cloth around the wound saturated with something--his wound was through the right breast, touching slightly the right lung--that in the afternoon, when a portion of the rebel army passed over the ground that he occupied, Col. Whitthorne, his wife's brother, discovered him and had him placed in one of his ambulances, bringing him away; had no knowledge as to what his intention was--whether to take him to some place of safety--some hospital, or let him die and bury him where his remains could afterwards be found by his family; that up to within a few days he had no idea where he was; that these old colored people had kept his whereabouts a profound secret, except among a few of their race whom they could trust; that when he found a force was stationed at Dolinsburg, he got them to send there and give the information, so that he might make some arrangement about getting away, for fear of recapture by the enemy, and they had sent the boy that we met. He was anxious to get away, and thought that he could bear being moved in some easy conveyance to Dolinsburg in two or three days' travel. We consulted together, and Capt. Day sent a messenger back with a letter to Col. Harden, asking him to send an ambulance and a surgeon the next day, we remaining with the Colonel until their coming. There was plenty of fodder at the plantation barns, and the men took care of the horses. Aunty prepared a sufficient quantity of wholesome food for ourselves. We passed the night without much sleep, the Captain and I using our chairs for beds, as there was not sufficient accommodation for us all; Mrs. Anderson slept on the bed by her husband, and the men found comfortable quarters in the stables. We enjoyed ourselves, however, hearing Aunt Martha and Ham tell us how they had taken care of the Colonel; how they had bathed and dressed his wound once each day with warm water and poultices of white-oak ooze and slippery-elm bark; how they stopped the bleeding with soot from the wooden chimney; how they dosed him occasionally, when his wound seemed painful, with good whiskey that Ham got up at the house on the hill (he had managed to force an entrance somehow); and how every day they asked the Lord to heal his wound and make him well, so he would take them away from their long suffering and unhappy life. The story of the old woman was most interesting as well as very amusing. The next morning we had bread, coffee and chicken, which was relished by all, I assure you. The Colonel was fed on gruel and a piece of chicken. Aunty, who had him entirely under her control, would not allow him to eat anything else. After breakfast was over I asked Aunty how she came to know Col.