DescriptionSparks from the camp fire - thrilling stories of heroism, adventure, daring and sufferng (1889) (14762335072).jpg |
English:
Identifier: sparksfromcampfi00gree (find matches)
Title: Sparks from the camp fire : thrilling stories of heroism, adventure, daring and sufferng
Year: 1889 (1880s)
Authors: Greene, Charles S
Subjects: United States -- History Civil War, 1861-1865 Anecdotes
Publisher: New York : W. A. Houghton
Contributing Library: New York Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN
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asts eyes, but hesitated to fire; for that one report might bring on him a volley from the shore. Meantime the strength of the dog careened the frail craft so much that the water rushed over the side, threatening to swamp her. He changed his tactics, threw his revolver into the bottom of the skiff, and grasping his bowie, keen as a Malay creese, and glittering as he released it from the sheath, like a moonbeam on the stream. In an instant he had severed the sinewy throat of the hound, cutting through the brawn and muscle to the nape of the neck. The tenacious wretch gave a wild, convulsive leap half out of the water, then sank; and was gone. Five minutes pulling landed the spy on the other side of the river, and in an hour after, without further accident, he was among friends, encompassed by the Northern lines. THE NEGRO TILLMAN'S NARRATIVE. The schooner S. J. Waring had started on a voyage to Buenos Ayres, in Montevideo, with an assorted cargo, which, with the vessel; was valued at a hundred thousand
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THE NEGRO TILLMAN'S NARRATIVE. 23 dollars. There were on board the captain and mate; William Tillman, steward, a native of Delaware, 27 years old, who has followed the sea for ten years; Wm. Sted- ding, seaman; Donald McLeod, seaman, of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, 30 years of age; and Bryce Mackinnon, a passenger. On the 7th of July, 1861, they fell in with the Jeff. Davis, and a prize crew of five were put aboard who were unarmed. To use the language of Tillman, They run ten days and didn't find Charleston. They were, however, only fifty miles south of Charleston, and one hundred to the eastward. On the voyage they treated me the best kind of way and talked the best kind of talk. One day the first lieutenant of the pirates was sitting in the cabin, cross-legged, smoking, and he said to me—— "When you go down to Savannah, I want you to go to my house, and I will take care of you." I thought, continued the negro, "Yes, you will take care of me when you get me there." I raised my hat, and said——
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