" "Don't give it to him!
don't give it to him!" was yelled out from all sides. I cocked my gun
and was about to raise it to my shoulder, when he handed me over a
pattock of scorched dough, and every fellow in Company H made a grab
for it, and I only got about two or three mouthfuls. About dark a wild
heifer ran by our regiment, and I pulled down on her. We killed and
skinned her, and I cut off about five pounds of hindquarter. In three
minutes there was no sign of that beef left to tell the tale. We ate
that beef raw and without salt.
Only eight miles now to Cumberland Gap, and we will get rations now.
But we didn't. We descended the mountain on the southern side. No
rations yet.
Well, says I, this won't do me. I am going to hunt something to eat,
Bragg or no Bragg. I turned off the road and struck out through the
country, but had gone but a short distance before I came across a group
of soldiers clambering over something. It was Tom Tuck with a barrel of
sorghum that he had captured from a good Union man. He was selling it
out at five dollars a quart. I paid my five dollars, and by pushing and
scrouging I finally got my quart. I sat down and drank it; it was bully;
it was not so good; it was not worth a cent; I was sick, and have never
loved sorghum since.
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