Months afterwards, as I was passing through one of the St. Louis hospitals, I heard the _thud, thud_, of crutches coming after me. I turned to see who was following me; and a merry voice greeted me, “Here’s your sauer-kraut man! Here’s your sauer-kraut man!” And there, sure enough, was my Missouri soldier, able to get around lively on crutches, and as blithe and merry as though he had never felt the keen edge of the surgeon’s knife. The dangers and hardships of that trip can never be forgotten. There were many touching incidents. If this little story falls under the eyes of that Missouri soldier, I would like to hear from him. He told me, that day that I last met him, his story, which was full of the pathos of home love and tender sacrifices. He was the youngest of his father’s family; and they did not want to spare him to the country, though they were loyal to the Stars and Stripes. But the lawless bands of marauders, who were significantly called “Bushwhackers,” were prowling over the State of Missouri, and his life was unsafe. He did not venture to sleep in a house for months before he left his home, and at last sleeping in the bushes became dangerous. Several times, as he was asleep out in the undergrowth, he narrowly escaped the bushwhackers, who were seeking him. I never saw him again, but hope he got back to his own home safely. During the trip up to Cairo twenty died, one with lockjaw. It was pitiful to see a great stalwart man deprived of the power of speech, starving to death. Not one particle of food could pass between his closely-set teeth. His mind was clear, and daily he wrote out his requests in regard to his friends and other matters. Never was ocean traveller gladder to see the headlands of his own native country than were we to see Cairo. A company of ladies came on board, fresh nurses and surgeons were obtained, also comforts for the wounded in the shape of cots, mattresses, etc. Many of the patients were removed from the overcrowded boat into comfortable hospitals at Cairo, thus relieving all parties. As soon as the boat landed, I went to the house of a friend; and as I had not had one hour of unbroken sleep for about ten days, I redeemed the time by taking a nap thirty-six hours long. TWO DREADFUL DAYS ON THE BATTLEFIELD. SHILOH. The hospital steamer on which myself and two other ladies took passage to Pittsburg Landing from Cairo, Ill., reaching Savannah, Tenn., eight miles below there, about four o’clock A.M., April 7. There we heard the news of the terrible battle that had been fought the day before. Some said: “The Union army is defeated and driven to the very banks of the river, and are all likely to be captured to-day.” We were soon out of our berths and on the outlook. The boat, with a full head of steam, made all possible speed to reach Pittsburg Landing.