“Pigeon wuz ve’y feard ub watah (da sut’ny wuz no Babtis’ blood in huh) an’ dat mecks me think ub what dey call de Streight raid. It wuz in April, 1863. Mars Bedford had been fightin’ consonly fuh days, an’ de hosses an’ men hadn’ slep’ fuh two nights, ’ceppin in de saddle, an’ had nuffin ter eat. Mars Bedford picked up uh box ub crackers, put dem in his amblabus an’ divided ’em wid his men. Da wan’ uh thing in meh pants legs futto eat, ’twuz ’zausted. Befo’ tryin’ ter cross what dey call Black Creek de Gen’l made uh speech ter his men, callin’ fuh all dat wuz willin’ ter cross; all ’sponded ’ceppin de men asleep in deah saddles, _an’ I wuz one ub ’em_. Gen’l Streight wuz retretin’ jes’ ez fars’ ez he cud, an’ cross ober an’ bu’nt de bridge ober Black Creek. De creek wuz muddy, swollen, deep an’ dangersome. Mars Bedford wuz meddotatin’ how ter cross, an’ de sharpshooters wuz firin’ fum de udder side. Seberal ladies walked up, an’ one ub ’em erbout sebenteen year ole, say, ‘Whose cumman’ is dis?’ an’ somebody said, ‘De advance ub Gen’l Forrest’s cavelry.’ She wuz all stirred up, an’ she say, ‘Pint Gen’l Forrest out,’ an’ when dey pinted him out she made such uh curchysy she mos’ swep’ de groun’, wiped wid huh ap’on de pusspuration fum huh face and said, ‘Dear Gen’l Forrest an’ brabe soldiers, I know ub an ole ford neah heah, erboutin uh harf mile ’way, an’ ef’n I had uh mount I cud teck you rite ter de ford. We hab no hosses; dem blue coats teck ’em all. De way is th’oo briars an’ fallen trees an’ drif’wood an’ sich like. I kyant walk well in it.’ Den Mars Bedford say, ‘I will put you up behin’ me, my chile.’ Then huh ma say, ‘No! No! meh daughter; you mout git kilt, an’ you is meh only yew lam’.’ Den Mars Bedford say, drappin’ dem sorf eyes ub his’n on huh an’ lookin’ ez fine ez uh cherrypin er serrypin, ‘Git up behin’ me fum dis fallen tree.’ Den huh mudda almos’ hab spavins, but she clum up on dat hoss. Mars Bedford call fuh uh scout an’ ’way he went. Ub cose I wuz wid him; jumpin’ logs, tearin’ up de briars an’ weeds. Arfter dey had gone boutin uh harf mile, Miss Emma, dat wuz huh name, say, ‘Stop, Gen’l Forrest, dis heah ravine runs down ter dat ford an’ de ford runs dis way: =>= .’ Den dey got off an’ walked ter de ribba, but de watah wuz so high an’ so muddy dey cudn’ see de ford; but she say, ‘It’s bin heah ev’y sence I wuz uh baby. I know almos’ ev’y rock in it an’ ezac’ly wha it is.’ Den I heah bang! bang! bang! and den erboutin fo’ty bangs, an’ heah cum de bullets. I wuz peepin’ wid Pigeon fum behin’ uh big rock. _Oh, I wuz al’ays wid him._ Den I heah Miss Emma say, ‘Gen’l stan’ behin’ me; dey won’ shoot me.’ Mars Bedford say, ‘Git behin’ dat rock an’ stay da tell I cum fuh you.’ Den Mars Bedford teck out his spyglass an’ spied all ’roun’ an’ he heah some twigs crackin’ behin’ him, an’ he looked ’roun’, an’ da wuz dat chile almos’ in his footprints. De Gen’l’s eyes almos’ spit fire, an’ his mouf trimbled. Den he say, jes’ like he orderin’ uh charge, ‘Stay behin’ dat rock!’ Den she say, ‘Gen’l, I wuz fear’d you mout be wounded, an’ I wanted ter be neah you.’ Den he sot down befo’ de rock—me an’ Pigeon wuz behin’—tu’n’d his sorf eyes up ter de sky an’ say, ’_De worl’ kyant whup us wid sech women!_’[18] Pres’ny he holped huh up de ravine—all de time de sharpshooters wuz firin’, an’ some ub de balls wen’ th’oo huh dress—an’ when she got up de ravine she say, ‘Dey jes’ wounded meh crin’line!’ an’ she tuck orf huh sunbonnet an’ shuck it at ’em. Gen’l Forrest sant her back ter tell de res’ ub de cumman’ ter cum, artil’ry fus’. Almos’ befo’ dey got ter de ford dey limbered up, fired uh few bung-shots, an’ dem blue coats soon lef’ dat ford. Den Mars Bedford tole one ub his officers ter teck uh regiment an’ hole dat ford, and dey hilt it. Ev’ything wuz ready, an’ Mars Bedford started erhaid ober de ford, when Miss Emma call him back, almos’ cryin’, and she say, ‘You’r gwine ’rong; you see de ford run dis way: =>= .’ Den she clum er rock an’ say, ‘Lemmy git up in front ub you an’ show de way.’ De Gen’l say, ‘No; git up behin’; dey mout shoot you.’ An’ she say, ‘No; I mus’ ride in front, hab de reins, so dat I meck no mustake.’ Den Mars Bedford teck orf his nuniform coat, fold an’ put it in front ub him, den he teck orf his felt hat an’ put it on de coat, an’ she jump on jes’ ez spry ez uh colt, an’ he say ter his soldiers, ‘Follow me.’ His scout, Mars Torm, wuz one ub de fus’ ter follow. Mars Bedford stop his hoss an’ say, ‘You kyant go; yo’ ahm is badly shot an’ broken; you is not fit ter fight er swim.’ So den he wuz orf ergin. De hosses wuz neighin’, de creek wuz twissin’, rum’lin’ an’ tum’lin’, de hosses stoppin’, stum’lin’, an’ backin’ jes’ de same ez ef’n ’twuz dark.