It was my fortune to be a passenger on the steamer Von Phul, which left New Orleans for St. Louis on the evening of December 7th, 1863.  I had been for some time traveling up and down the Mississippi, and running the gauntlet between Rebel batteries on either shore.  There was some risk attending my travels, but up to that time I escaped unharmed.

On the afternoon of the 8th, when the boat was about eight miles above Bayou Sara, I experienced a new sensation.

Seated at a table in the cabin, and busily engaged in writing, I heard a heavy crash over my head, almost instantly followed by another.  My first thought was that the chimneys or some part of the pilot-house had fallen, and I half looked to see the roof of the cabin tumbling in.  I saw the passengers running from the cabin, and heard some one shout: 

“The guerrillas are firing on us.”

I collected my writing materials and sought my state-room, where I had left Mr. Colburn, my traveling companion, soundly asleep a few minutes before.

He was sitting on the edge of his berth, and wondering what all the row was about.  The crash that startled me had awakened him.  He thought the occurrence was of little moment, and assented to my suggestion, that we were just as safe there as anywhere else on the boat.

Gallantry prevented our remaining quiet.  There were several ladies on board, and it behooved us to extend them what protection we could.  We sought them, and “protected” them to the best of our united ability.  Their place of refuge was between the cabin and the wheel-house, opposite the battery’s position.  A sheet of wet paper would afford as much resistance to a paving-stone as the walls of a steamboat cabin to a six-pound shot.  As we stood among the ladies, two shells passed through the side of the cabin, within a few inches of our heads.

The shots grew fewer in number, and some of them dropped in the river behind us.  Just as we thought all alarm was over, we saw smoke issuing from the cabin gangway.  Then, some one shouted, “The boat is on fire!”

Dropping a lady who evinced a disposition to faint, I entered the cabin.  A half-dozen men were there before me, and seeking the locality of the fire.  I was first to discover it.

A shell, in passing through a state-room, entered a pillow, and scattered the feathers through the cabin.  A considerable quantity of these feathers fell upon a hot stove, and the smoke and odor of their burning caused the alarm.

The ladies concluded not to faint.  Three minutes after the affair was over, they were as calm as ever.

The Rebels opened fire when we were abreast of their position, and did not cease until we were out of range.  We were fifteen minutes within reach of their guns.

[Illustration:  RUNNING BATTERIES ON THE VON PHUL.]

Our wheels seemed to turn very slowly.  No one can express in words the anxiety with which we listened, after each shot, for the puffing of the engines.  So long as the machinery was uninjured, there was no danger of our falling into Rebel hands.  But with our engines disabled, our chances for capture would be very good.