Part 7

Our prospects, which a few moments before looked so dark, were now rose-colored. It was not altogether because we had satisfied the cravings of hunger and thereby invigorated our physical powers, that we felt renewed courage to endure the hardships before us; we now had evidence of the fidelity of the negroes to us as representatives of the great element of Freedom, then in combat with Slavery. We were now persuaded that we could trust the negroes as a class--not because of any sympathy they had for us personally, but because they appreciated the vital interests of their race in the struggle. The difficulties of the long and dangerous road before us seemed vastly lessened and to a great extent shorn of their terrors, for the majority of the inhabitants along our route were friends--ignorant, it is true; prisoners at large, so to speak--but nevertheless our friends, who would shield us so far as lay in their power, and, to the best of their ability, aid us on our journey.

These faithful friends also told us how our first friend had contrived to mislead the persons whom our unfortunate appearance at the church had put on our track. He managed to meet them on the road with his load of brush, and upon their inquiring if he had seen any strangers pass along, replied that he had, and that they had crossed the field and gone off in a direction opposite to our place of concealment. Believing his statement, they had followed the direction indicated by him.

We were warned, however, that they would probably get the dogs and put them on our track, and this did not serve to make us feel over secure; we therefore determined to make the greatest possible efforts in the way of traveling that night. Securing the remnants of our supper, and an old coverlid furnished by the negroes, we again started on.

As ill luck would have it, early in the evening we again incurred the risk of capture, by reason of what seemed to us the extraordinary religious excitement prevailing among the inhabitants of this region. We were traveling along the road, using, as we thought, all due care, when suddenly we came upon a private house, situated near the road, where there was another religious gathering. The door was open, and several persons were gathered around the outside. We passed along the road without attracting any particular notice, as we then thought; but we felt that our appearance then, coupled with our presence near the church the day before, might serve to put the hounds on our track. We pushed on, with beating hearts and accelerated speed. As we were passing the house, I heard for the first time the plantation hymn,

"Dere's nobody knows de trouble I see."

sung in melodious negro voices. There certainly never was a musical number more appropriate to the occasion.

We made a good night's march, of at least twenty miles. At daylight we again sought the cover of a thicket and were soon asleep. It would seem, that after our experience of the day before, we ought to have been satisfied to remain quiet that day; and probably we should have been, had it not been that about noon we heard the baying of hounds. Were they after us? We listened. They certainly were trending in the direction of our trail. What should we do? Remain and test the question as to whether the dogs were after us or other game; or should we risk traveling by daylight, and, if they were indeed after us, give them a long race. We decided on the latter course, and, taking our direction from the compass, we started on through the forest, running where the ground would admit of it, and again plunging through the most impenetrable thickets, to delay horsemen should they attempt to follow us.

About four o'clock in the afternoon, we came into the open, cultivated country. Here the greatest caution was needful. We were beside a fence, with a cornfield on one side and on the other an open, uncultivated space. Skulking, so as to keep our heads below the top of the fence, we were passing it.

We had nearly reached the end of the field, when on our right, in the cornfield, in a hollow that had concealed them from our sight, we came upon about twenty negroes of both sexes, two white men and one white woman, engaged in husking corn. They saw us about the same time we saw them; so, straightening ourselves up, we walked by them, trying to look as unconcerned as possible.

_Hunted with Hounds_

We passed the field and on into the woods beyond. At the first opportunity we halted, and one of our number skulked back to see what effect our sudden appearance had had upon the people in the cornfield. It took but a moment to satisfy ourselves on that score. They had scattered like a covey of quails at the approach of the hunter; all were running, some in one direction, some in another. It was very plain that the whole country would be aroused, and we should have the hunters upon our trail, if they were not already following us.

Now then, for it, boys! We must gain on them all we can. A short run brought us to a stream of water, and into it we went without a moment's hesitation. Turning our heads down stream, we floundered along--now over huge boulders, then into holes up to our chins, now through shallow rapids, and again through deep, still water. We were profiting by the lesson taught us by the South Carolina man-hunter in the swamps. The stream was rapid most of the way, and would carry our scent down with its turbulent waters.

We must stick to the stream as long as possible. Stop. What is this? A bayou putting into the stream, and overhung with willows on its banks. Here is our refuge. Wading out into the bayou and behind the willows, we are at least safe from observation. We have left no track since reaching the stream, and unless the hounds are sagacious enough to catch the scent from the air or water, they will be baffled. At all events, it is our only safety.

Hark! Do you hear it? Listen! Yes, here they come! Away up the creek, at regular intervals, the baying of the hounds can be distinctly heard. Now then, for it! Will they be able to discover our retreat? Listen. Do you hear them? No. They have ceased their infernal howl.

A long pause, and then the notes of the horn. Soon a noise along our side of the creek is heard. The hunters are upon us. The bayou is reached and crossed. On and on down the creek, out of sight and hearing. Thank God! Thank God! We are safe.

Hark! Not so fast! They are coming back. Nearer and nearer the sounds of the hunters come, on the other side of the creek, going up again. They have passed us, and again the sounds of the chase die out, and are heard no more.

We remained in the water, shivering until night, and then, exhausted as we were by cold, hunger, and excitement, traveled through the entire night, this time making twenty-five miles.

Just before daylight it commenced to rain: not a drizzling mist, but a regular, pouring rain, as though the clouds had a day's work to perform, and meant to get the most of it done before noon; a rain that not only wet to the skin, but gave you a good pelting besides. The reader will recollect that this was in October, and even in South Carolina the weather was not as warm as it might be. The nights, especially, were cold and unpleasant. It was no pleasing prospect, that of crawling into a thicket and lying down in the beating rain, with neither shelter nor fire; but, disagreeable as it was, we hailed the storm with rapture. We remembered the lesson of the man hunter in the swamps: "The rain gits us; dogs can't keep the scent after a smart rain." We knew, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the hunters would be able to get on our track in the morning; without this merciful rain, sent, as it seemed, by kind Providence, we should probably be overtaken before night.

Shivering, and nearly exhausted by fatigue and want of food, we crawled into a thicket, some twenty rods from the highway along which we had been traveling. Throwing ourselves down, we drew over us our one blanket and the old coverlid obtained from our black friend, and sought, by lying close to each other, to preserve enough of the natural heat of our bodies to prevent perishing from the cold. How we did suffer! It required all the force of will of which we were possessed, to prevent us from stirring around. It was only by keeping constantly before our minds the fact that if we attempted to travel or even to move among the wet bushes, it would be a very easy matter for the hounds to get our scent again, that we could keep still. So, with aching bones and chattering teeth, we lay there in the rain and waited.

The sun was up, but his rays could not penetrate the dense rain cloud. What a blessing to have been, if only for a few moments, warmed by his beams. We had the material to build a fire and relieve our sufferings; but to build a fire would have advertised our exact locality for miles around. Thus the tedious hours slowly passed.

About noon we were rewarded for our self-denial by seeing two horsemen and five hounds pass along the road. It required no stretch of imagination to determine their business. The men were armed with carbines, and were evidently searching for somebody, and we were strongly of the opinion that we knew who it was.

In the afternoon the sun came out once more, and, throwing off our wet blanket, we sunned ourselves in his cheering beams. But still we did not dare to stir around much. Our only safety consisted in keeping down the scent. If we started on then, through the wet bushes, we could easily be followed, for after our impromptu bath of the day before and our subsequent thorough drenching from the rain, it would not require a very sagacious dog to find us. We were nearer the road than we thought thoroughly safe; but we were afraid that if we attempted to put more distance between us and the road, we would run more risk of creating a scent that could be caught by the dogs than if we remained where we were.

About five o'clock in the afternoon we saw the same men and dogs returning. As they were about opposite us, one of the dogs, probably the leader, stopped, threw up his head, and snuffed the air for a moment as though there were some game near. Fortunately, the men did not notice him. After snuffing around for a while, he dropped his head and followed the other two brutes on horseback--on, and out of sight.

Hurrah! We were saved! Not by any skill of our own, but by the merciful interposition of Divine Providence, in sending the rain, and thus depriving our enemies of their only means of tracing us.

We had now been without food for about twenty-four hours. Our bodies were cramped, and our joints stiffened, by cold and exposure to the rain; yet we hailed the friendly darkness that closed around us, shielding us from observation, with feelings of gratitude to the Great Giver of All Good. We could endure hunger and fatigue vastly better than we could our forced inaction.

At the earliest practicable moment, therefore, we were again upon the road. Our greatest need just then was food. We were growing weak, and we knew that unless we could soon get relief our strength would entirely fail. We also knew that it would not do for us to attempt to visit negro quarters to procure supplies--the country was roused, and undoubtedly we were watched for. The negro quarters would of course be placed under surveillance.

We therefore concluded, to supply our pressing need, to depend upon our own resources, or rather upon our ability to forage upon the resources of the enemy. It was late at night, however, somewhere in the neighborhood of twelve o'clock, before we reached a plantation. Reconnoissance was made, and the location of the house and of the negro quarters ascertained. Avoiding the dwellings, we commenced a search for food. Sweet potatoes are usually abundant on Southern plantations at this time of year, but we were unable to find any. We found plenty of corn, but it was as hard as flint. We also found a quantity of the peas before described; and this was all that we could raise in the way of a supper. Skirting the plantation, we finally reached the highway beyond it. A consultation was held, and all the pros and cons of the situation discussed.

After due deliberation, we decided that it would not be safe to build a fire, as the light would betray us. We must do the best we could, with the raw material. So, dividing it between us, we munched the dry corn as we walked. We were our own millers, cooks, and bakers, but while our primitive repast served to maintain life and to a certain extent relieve us from the cravings of hunger, I cannot recommend it as a steady diet. It is open to very serious objections: first, want of variety; second, difficulty of mastication--one can grind corn with his teeth for an hour or two, but after that one's teeth get sore; thirdly, although hygienists tell us that to preserve health we should eat slowly, the process of masticating corn is altogether too slow for comfort. In fact one must eat all the time or go hungry, and if the mill be ever so much out of order, the grinding must still go on, or the baker and cook will be out of employment.

We were now near Savannah River, about two miles south of Abbeville, South Carolina. Since our adventure at the church, detailed above, we had been obliged to devote all our energies to saving ourselves from recapture. We had necessarily made many divergences from our line of march, so that while we had traveled a long distance we had gained but little, so far as reaching Sherman's lines was concerned. But we again took up our regular line of march, and there was but one obstacle in our way that caused us much uneasiness. The Savannah, a deep and rapid stream, was to be crossed. But two of our party could swim--Spencer and myself. Hatcher must be got over the stream in some way, but how? We had studied upon this difficulty for several days, and concluded, if we could do no better, to make a raft and float him over, provided we could find the materials with which to construct one. We did not dare take a boat, because if we left it on the opposite shore from which we got it, the enemy would certainly get on our track; while if we turned it adrift, after crossing, the fact that the boat was missing would serve the same purpose. After our success in getting rid of the hounds, we were determined not to have them again on our track if we could avoid it.

Slowly the long night passed away. I say slowly, because we were getting wretchedly tired and faint. Long exposure and excitement were beginning to tell upon us. It was only by the stern exercise of will that we were enabled to move at all. Under ordinary circumstances none of us would have believed himself capable of marching an hour. Daylight at length admonished us that we must again seek shelter for another twelve hours. It so happened that daylight overtook us in an open, cultivated country, and the best we could do was to crawl into a thicket in the midst of an open field, where we lay all day, alternately dozing and munching corn.

_Friendly Blacks_

At length darkness again closed around us. Exhausted, footsore, and almost disheartened, we once more started upon our tedious journey. Discovering a road not very well traveled, and evidently neither a turnpike nor a public highway, but running in the direction we wished to go, we concluded to follow it. This road, unfortunately as we then thought, led us to a plantation, and directly through the negro quarters. The planter's house was but a short distance from the quarters. It seemed a fearful risk to run, to attempt to pass at so short a distance from the house and through the quarters, so early in the evening. If we had not been so nearly exhausted, we certainly should not have attempted it; but to make a detour would have involved additional travel through the forest. We were just in that state of mind and body that, rather than incur any extra travel and add to the bruises and scratches on our already blistered feet and lacerated limbs, we preferred to take the extra risk, so we boldly pushed on. It was Sunday evening, and the cabins of the negroes were all closed, with one exception, and no one was stirring without. In passing the last cabin, I saw, through the only open door of the row, an old negro, apparently alone, sitting before the fire. Instantly I determined to appeal to him for help, and whispered this intention to my comrades. They hid in an angle of the fence while I boldly entered the cabin, closed the door, and locked it.

Those familiar with the construction of negro cabins, will at once understand how this was done. To those who are not, I will explain. Nearly all of the cabins are provided with a wooden bar, running across the door; so all that I had to do, was to take the bar standing near the door jambs, and drop it into the hasps.

The sudden apparition of a gaunt, unshaven man, clothed in rags, with famine stamped in every lineament, thus abruptly entering his hut, evidently startled the old man. Rising to his feet, he exclaimed: "Who is you?"

Walking up to him, I placed my hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye, asked: "Old man, if I place my life in your hands, will you betray me?"

I shall never forget the appearance of that man as I asked this question. He was, I should think, between sixty and seventy years of age, and his head white as snow. In his prime he must have been a fine specimen of a man, physically. Straightening his tall form he looked me over from head to foot.

"Who is you?" he asked again.

"I am a Yankee officer, escaped from a Rebel prison, and I am trying to reach the Yankee army," I replied; and again I asked, "Will you betray me?"

_"No, sah, and dar ain't a nigga in Souf Car'lina dat would betray ye!"_

I have seen some of our most gifted and celebrated orators, when they have seemed almost inspired; but never in my life did I see more dignity of deportment or a countenance display more nobility of soul, than did that old man's as he uttered this sentence.

While we were talking, a young negro woman, who had been lying on a bed at the back part of the room, and whom I had not observed before, got up, unbarred the door, and left the cabin.

In less than ten minutes, the room was filled with negroes of both sexes. Notwithstanding the assurance of the old man, I became uneasy. "For God's sake," I said, "don't let any more in."

Some one inquired, "Why?"

"I am afraid some of you may betray me," I replied; "and I would rather die than to be recaptured."

It was evident that the girl had told them who I was, from the remarks dropped by one and another.

"I'd jes' like to see the nigga as would do dat," said a young, stalwart negro.

"Pears to me dat you do'no who your frien's is," said another.

It took but a very few minutes to convince me that I had nothing to fear from that party, at all events. I then told them of my companions in the fence corner, and they were called in.

"Now, den, Massa," said the old man, "jest you tell us wot we can do for ye."

"We want something to eat, and we want to cross the Savannah River," I replied.

One motherly old woman, after peering into our faces, asked: "W'en did ye hab anyt'ing to eat las', honey?"

We told her.

"De Lord bress ye, honey, ye mus' be mos' starved!" she cried.

Here the old man broke in. He had evidently been revolving the matter in his mind.

"See here, Bob, you an' Jim take dese men out in de cornfield an' hide 'em. Mary, you go an' made dem some brof an' chicken fixin's. Ole Massa may come down heah, an' de debbil 'd be to pay, 'fore we know it. Den we'll see 'bout crossin' de ribber. I tell ye de Lord sent dese men heah to be took keer of, an' we're gwine to do it."

Following the directions of the old man, we were taken out into the middle of a large cornfield, where we remained while these good friends were preparing our supper.

Soon the old woman appeared, bearing a kettle of nourishing broth. Seating herself upon the ground, she commenced feeding us.

"Only tiny bit, Massa. Jes' tiny bit at a time. Lor' bress ye, honey, take yer time, dar's 'nough of it. I went an' killed some o' ole Massa's chickens, purpose fur ye. Specs he'd swear awful ef he knowed dat you uns was eatin' dem. When ye gits filled up wid some brof, I got de meat heah, an' sweet taters, an' hoe cake."

All the while she was talking, she kept the spoon busy, first ladling out the broth to one, and then to another of the party. At last she consented to let us have more substantial food, and the way the corn bread, sweet potatoes, and boiled chicken disappeared was wonderful.

"Ki-ki! 'Pears like ye was holler all de way down, don't it, honeys?" exclaimed the kind old woman. "Does me good to see ye eat. You'll feel a heap bettah when ye gits yer stomachs full. Ya-ya!"

But even our appetites were at length satisfied. Meanwhile, three stalwart negroes reported for duty. They were detailed to ferry us across the river, distant only about a mile. When ready to start, young and old gathered around us, and with a hearty grasp of the hand and a fervent "God speed!" they bade us good-bye; but not before furnishing us with cooked rations sufficient to last us five days.

Upon reaching the Savannah, a ferry-boat was stolen, and we were safely landed on the Georgia side. While crossing, I asked one of the negroes what would be the result to them, if it were known that they had assisted us in this manner.

"Golly, Massa, dey'd hang us to de fus tree!" was the reply.

These faithful fellows were not only ready to feed and shelter us, but they willingly risked their lives for us. We also obtained from them accurate knowledge of the movements of Sherman's troops only five days previous; and this, too, a hundred and fifty miles from the scene of action. How they obtained it they would not tell; but it was plain they had means of conveying intelligence in some way, probably from one plantation to another, by means of runners.

In truth, traveling by the underground railroad, as we did, associating with and depending upon slaves, we were enabled to judge of them with far greater accuracy than it would have been possible for us to do under any other circumstances. After the lapse of eighteen years, I may be credited with speaking dispassionately when I say that in my opinion they were, as a class, better informed of passing events and had a better idea of questions involved in the struggle between North and South, than the majority of that class known as the "poor whites" of the South. In this opinion I venture to say that I will be sustained by seven-eighths of our soldiers who had opportunities for forming an intelligent opinion. They were faithful to every trust imposed upon them by us, even to the imperiling of their lives. They were not only willing to divide their final crust with us, but to give us the last morsel of food in their possession. May my right hand wither, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, when I forget to be grateful to that people, or fail to advocate their cause, when their cause is just!

With our hearts overflowing with gratitude, we shook hands with our sable ferrymen, and bade them good-bye.

"Take keer ob yousel's, Massas; an' wen you comes back wid de army, don't forget Jake an' Tom, an' de res' ob us."

These were the last words we heard from the lips of our friends. We have not been able to hear anything from them since; but let the circumstances be what they may, those men and women who succored us in our great peril are my friends, and will be met and treated as such, wherever found, though their skins be darker, and their hair curl tighter than my own.

_Difficulties, Day by Day_