“Is there anything I can do for you to-day, madam?” the general inquired in his most gracious manner. “Yes, General, there is. I and this forlorn little company whom I have led, and misled, are under arrest for a most serious crime. We were on the enemy’s ground, and were pushing for the enemy’s camp at full speed, when this gallant officer rode down in the face of the enemy and rescued us. I want to thank him before you all.” Of course further explanation was made, and we were all released. The ambulance driver and myself were admonished “to make certain thereafter that we were on the right road.” I shook hands with the captain and thanked him, and the officers present congratulated him, and we all left headquarters in high spirits. SAVING THE LIFE OF YOUNG PIKE, BROTHER OF MRS. SUE PIKE SANDERS, PAST NATIONAL PRESIDENT, W. R. C. The atmosphere was thick with dust, and stifling with the sulphurous smoke that came in clouds from the near battle-field, as I drove around Vicksburg. The air was as hot as a furnace, under the pitiless rays of a June sun, and vibrated with the roar and thunder of heavy artillery and bursting shells, till every nerve was on the rack. It was unusually late, and I was weary and heartsick. But as I was on my way to my quarters, I noticed a soldier lying in a field not far from the main travelled road. There was something in the appearance of the man that attracted my attention, and I stopped my carriage and went to him. At first I thought he was dead; but a closer examination convinced me that he was alive. The shades of night were gathering around us, and the point where he lay was one of unusual danger. I hurried back to my carriage, and brought water and restoratives, and began an earnest effort to resuscitate him. It was not long till he opened his great brown eyes in a questioning way. “Poor boy!” I said in pitying tones; but he closed his eyes as though he had not fully understood. After a little he looked up into my face, and said in a whisper,-- “They left me here to die.” “Oh, but you will be taken care of now, and you’ll get well. Don’t think about dying--just think how soon you will be well again.” He was a young soldier, not much if any over sixteen or eighteen years old. He was lying there, with all his heavy army clothing on, in a most pitiable condition. There was a hospital not very far away; and leaving George, my driver, to minister to him, I went up to the hospital and called for the surgeon in charge. “There is a soldier lying down here near the road who is nearly dead. Will you not have him brought up, and see what you can do for him?” I said. “Why, isn’t he dead yet?” exclaimed an attendant.