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to be bushwhacked, or, perhaps, meet a column in the road, and be shot to death; but I swore I would have that map or die, and when I reached the house, with my horse white with sweat, a lady met me at the gate with the map, and said : " Fly, for they are here." It is useless to state that the map was soon in General Butler's hands. This same faithful horse, like Tarn O'Shanter's Meg, "good as ever lifted leg," was killed at Campbell's Mill, on the Juniper creek, in Chesterfied county, when his rider, and a private soldier belonging to the Phillips' Legion, named McDaniel, being possessed with more pluck than judgment, charged fourteen Yankees in the Campbell house.

Well do I remember how poor Mrs. Campbell looked when she ran out of the house and said: "My gracious alives, men, if you don't stop that shooten somebody is gwine to get hurt." I soon discovered that she was right; my horse was shot and so was I, but the poor horse had strength enough to take me to the swamp, where McDaniel and I held a council of war and decided to separate at once. Poor fellow, I hope he is doing well; I have not heard of him since. I wandered about in the woods, dodging blue coats until dark, when I met an old citizen who gave me his hat and said: ' ' Here is a good negro who will conduct you through the woods to Society Hill to Dr. Pressley's house, and he will let you have a horse. ' ' Upon our safe arrival, I gave this faithful negro all I pos- sessed, which was a five dollar Confederate bill. Our scouts took the bummers in at Campbell's Mill, and ate the dinner which they made old Mrs. Campbell prepare for them. At Dr. Pressley's hos- pitable home I fortunately met Colonel Zimmerman Davis, and the next morning I was mounted on Dr. Pressley's horse, and with Colonel Davis crossed the Great Pee Dee, and went in the direction of Bennettsville, and after travelling a few miles I returned Dr. Pressley's horse, having procured a wild, young horse, which could run like a deer. We spent the night at Bennettsville, and early next morning met our men at Cheraw, where a hot skirmish was going on. A battery was placed in position to shell the town, and while Generals Hampton and Butler were consulting in the street a shell killed the horse of Sergeant Wells, of the Charleston Light Dra- goons. This gallant company had been so badly cut to pieces in Virginia that only fifteen or twenty men were left, and, while at Columbia, General Butler detailed these brave boys as his escort, and the first shell fired into Cheraw killed the horse just mentioned. Just before reaching Lynch 's river we stopped at a house where a