The return trip was safely made. Again we swam the canal; Mrs. Bussey joined us, and we returned to camp. The next morning I called on General Grant, and reported the condition of these wounded men. General Grant was most thoughtful and careful of his sick and wounded. He took in the situation at once. Calling Rawlins, he said, “Those wounded men must be moved from the Point right away. Send an order to the medical director to that effect.” And that night, under the cover of the darkness, they were removed to hospitals at Milliken’s Bend, twenty-five miles away from the belching batteries. A WOMAN WOUNDED IN BATTLE. A woman who had served as a private soldier in the ranks was severely wounded and taken prisoner at Chickamauga. She fell in a charge made upon the Confederates; and as the troops immediately fell back she was left with the other wounded on the field, in the enemy’s lines. As she was dressed as the other soldiers were, her sex was not discovered till she was under a surgeon’s care in the hospital. She was wounded in the thigh. No bones were broken; but it was a deep, ugly flesh wound, as if torn by a fragment of a shell. A day or two afterwards she was sent with a flag of truce into the Union lines. The sum and substance of the official message sent with this woman was: “As the Confederates do not use women in war, this woman, wounded in battle, is returned to you.” There was great indignation in the regiment to which this woman belonged; and officers and men hastened to protest, that, although she had been with them for more than a year, not one in the regiment suspicioned that she was a woman. She stood the long, hard marches, did full duty on the picket-line and in camp, and had fought well in all the battles in which the regiment took part. She was in the hospital at Chattanooga for some time, where I first met her. When she was able to bear the transportation, she was removed to a hospital at Nashville. I met her there again and again, and tried to ascertain why she had enlisted. “Had you a husband in the regiment?” I questioned. “No.” “A lover or friend?” “No, I didn’t know any of them.” “Well, why did you enlist?” “I thought I’d like camp-life, and I did.” “You did your full share of the hard work, I am told, marching, going on picket duty, and chopping wood?” “Yes; I was put on detail just like the others, and I never made any excuse. I was awfully afraid they would find me out, and then I’d have to go.” “But they did not find you out?” “No; not till I was wounded. The most I care about now is that they won’t let me go back.” “Where did you come from? and what is your real name?” “I don’t want to tell, and I sha’n’t tell, either.”