Colonel Wyman reported himself at Bolivar, having marched from Rolla and beaten the Rebels in three engagements.  The General set out at nine o’clock for our thirty-mile ride.  The black horse fell into his usual scrambling gait, and we pounded along uneasily after him.  As we passed through Bolivar, the inhabitants came into the streets and greeted us with cheers and the waving of handkerchiefs,—­a degree of interest which is not often exhibited.  Fording a small stream, we came into Wyman’s camp, and thence upon a long, rolling prairie.  An hour’s ride brought us to the place where the Guard encamped the night before.  The troops had left, but the wounded officers were still in a neighboring house, waiting for our ambulances.  Those who were able to walk came out to see the General.  He received them with marked kindness.  At times like this, he has a simple grace and poetry of expression and a tenderness of manner which are very winning.  He spoke a few words to each of the brave fellows, which brought smiles to their faces and tears into their eyes.  Next came our turn, and we were soon listening to the incidents of the fearful fray.  None of them are severely wounded, except Kennedy, and he will probably lose an arm.  We saw them all placed in the ambulances, and then fell in behind the black pacer.

A short distance farther on, a very amusing scene occurred.  The road in front was nearly filled by a middle-aged woman, fat enough to have been the original of some of the pictures which are displayed over the booths at a county fair.

“Are you Gin’ral Freemount?” she shouted, her loud voice husky with rage.

“Yes,” replied the General in a low tone, somewhat abashed at the formidable obstruction in his path, and occupied in restraining the black pacer, who was as much frightened at the huge woman as he could have been at a park of artillery.

“Waal, you’re the man I want to see.  I’m a widder.  I wus born in Old Kentuck, and am a Union, and allers wus a Union, and will be a Union to the eend, clear grit.”

She said this with startling earnestness and velocity of utterance, and paused, the veins in her face swollen almost to bursting.  The black pacer bounded from one side of the road to the other, throwing the whole party into confusion.

The General raised his cap and asked,—­

“What is the matter, my good woman?”

“Matter, Gin’ral!  Ther’s enough the matter.  I’ve allers gi’n the sogers all they wanted.  I gi’n ’em turkeys and chickens and eggs and butter and bread.  And I never charged ’em anything for it.  They tuk all my corn, and I never said nuthing.  I allers treated ’em well, for I’m Union, and so wus my man, who died more nor six yeah ago.”

She again paused, evidently for no reason except to escape a stroke of apoplexy.

“But tell me what you want now.  I will see to it that you have justice,” interrupted the General.