My horse seemed to take in the situation. There was no path down the
bank and every one acquainted with the Mississippi River knows that its
banks, in a natural state, do not vary at any great angle from the
perpendicular. My horse put his fore feet over the bank without
hesitation or urging, and with his hind feet well under him, slid down
the bank and trotted aboard the boat, twelve or fifteen feet away, over
a single gang plank. I dismounted and went at once to the upper deck.
The Mississippi River was low on the 7th of November, 1861, so that the
banks were higher than the heads of men standing on the upper decks of
the steamers. The rebels were some distance back from the river, so
that their fire was high and did us but little harm. Our smoke-stack
was riddled with bullets, but there were only three men wounded on the
boats, two of whom were soldiers. When I first went on deck I entered
the captain's room adjoining the pilot-house, and threw myself on a
sofa. I did not keep that position a moment, but rose to go out on the
deck to observe what was going on. I had scarcely left when a musket
ball entered the room, struck the head of the sofa, passed through it
and lodged in the foot.
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