We were continually obliged to take one or two short steps and then a long one, and if the reader does not believe that to be tiresome, let him try it for two or three hundred miles, and he will believe that I am right, and that I know something about how railroads ought to be built for foot passengers. At any rate, I was so completely used up by one o’clock that night that I tried to have my comrades go on and leave me to try to get some negro to take care of me until I was able to resume my journey. I told them that it was impossible for me to proceed; but they said they would go into camp there, and see what success I met with in finding shelter.
We went into a piece of woods near the railroad and in sight of the village of Greenwood, S. C., at one o’clock in the morning, and lay there all day, watching for some negro to come along the road, which here ran along the railroad. Towards night, I walked out to the railroad, and saw a negro coming along on horse back. I sat upon the fence with my blue overcoat on, and the following dialogue took place:
“Hello uncle!”
“Howde massa?”
“Uncle, did you ever see a Yankee?”
“No sah, I spects I never did.”
“Well, now, take a good look at me and you’ll see one.”
“Is you a Yankee, massa?”
“Yes, I am a Yankee, and I want you to help me. You know we are going to make the darkies all free. We are your friends. I have been a prisoner at Columbia, and have escaped to get back North; but I am sick, and cannot go any farther until I get better. Now I would like to go home with you and have you take care of me until I am able to travel again, and I will pay you well for your trouble.”
“Well massa, you see I would like to do it mighty well; but I live six miles back, and there’s so many chiller bout dare, and all the house servants dey can’t be trusted. Our oberseer he’s a black man, but he do any ting massa say. I don’t dare trust him, and if dey kotch me, dey’d hang me, sure. But ders a collored fellah up the road, ‘Free Mitchell,’ he’ll keep you if you get dere.”