Another adventure, and a red hot one. Started down the river
in our dug-out boat somewhere near midnight. Ran down all right for an hour,
frequently seeing rebel pickets and camp fires. Saw we were going right into
the lion's mouth, as the farther down the more rebels. All at once our boat
gave a lurch and landed in a tree top which was sticking out of the water, and
there we were, swaying around in the cold water in the middle or near the
middle of the Ogechee. Dave went ashore and to a negro hut, woke up the
inmates, and narrated our troubles. A negro got up, and with another boat came
to the rescue. Were about froze with the cold and wet Said not more than a mile
farther down we would have run right into a chain boat, with pickets posted on
it. It really seems as if a Divine providence were guiding us. After getting a
breakfast of good things started off toward the Big Ogechee River, and have
traveled three or four miles. Are now encamped, or rather laying down, on a
little hillock waiting for evening, to get out of this vicinity which is a
dangerous one. In our river escapade lost many of our things, but still hang to
my coverlid and diary. There are three or four houses in view, and principally
white residences, those of the poor white trash order, and they are the very
ones we must avoid. Have caught cold and am fearfully out of traveling
condition, but must go it now. A mistake in coming down the river Am resting up, preparatory to traveling all
night up the country. No chance of getting out by the coast. Have enough food
to last all day and night, and that is a good deal. Can't carry more than a
day's supply. Have now been out in the woods, this is the fourth day, and every
day has been fresh adventures thick and fast. If I could only travel like my comrades,
would get along. Bucks praise me up and encourage me to work away, and I do.
For breakfast had more of those imported sardines. Storm brewing of some sort
and quite chilly. Saw rebel infantry marching along the highway not more than
eighty rods off. Hugged the ground very close. Dogs came very near us, and if
they had seen us would have attracted the rebels' attention. Am writing with a
pencil less than an inch long. Shall print this diary and make my everlasting
fortune, and when wealthy will visit this country and make every negro who has
helped us millionaires. Could not move from here half a mile by daylight
without being seen, and as a consequence we are feeling very sore on the
situation Don't know but I shall be so lame to-night that I cannot walk at all,
and then the boys must leave me and go ahead for themselves. However, they say
I am worth a hundred dead men yet, and will prod me along like a tired ox. Dave
goes now bareheaded, or not quite so bad as that, as he has a handkerchief tied
over his head. The programme now is to go as straight to Mr. Kimball's as we
can. He is probably twenty miles away; is a white Union man I spoke of a day or
so ago in this same diary. Wil stick to him like a brother. Can hear wagons go
along the road toward Savannah, which is only thirteen or fourteen miles away. Later
— Most dark enough to travel and I have straightened up and am taking an
inventory of myself. Find I can walk with the greatest difficulty. The boys
argue that after I get warmed up I will go like a top, and we will see.
SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p.
143-4
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