Captain Alban would not leave me, and encouraged me to renewed efforts when I was almost fainting from pain.
It was Saturday night that I met Alban, and on Monday we ate the last of our chickens and corn bread, and with full stomachs, but empty haversacks, we started out at dark again. About nine o’clock, as we were going along through a piece of woods, we suddenly came upon a negro with a large wooden trunk on his head. He was frightened at first but after finding out that we were Yankees, he was about the most delighted darkey I ever saw. I told him I would give him twenty dollars if he would get me five chickens, and corn bread enough to eat with them. This he promised to do, and told us to wait there until he toted the trunk over to his old grannies, and when he came back he would whistle, to let us know it was him, and when we answered the whistle, he would take us to the house and give us some supper. He was soon back and we went with him to the edge of the woods, near the shanty, when he again left us to make sure that everything was all right. It was not long before we again heard the low, musical whistle, which I answered, and he came up with two other negroes and took us to a cabin, where a good fire was burning and an old black woman was cooking some bacon and corn bread, or hoe cake, as they call it. While auntie was getting our supper prepared, the three men went out to see about the chickens.
It was not long before they were back, and had five nice fat fowl, which they proceeded at once to dress for us, and by the time we had finished our supper, which we greatly relished, the fowl were ready, the feathers burned, and the floor carefully swept, so that every trace of the transaction was removed. I had a silver quarter in my pocket which I gave to aunty, and which she received with profuse expressions of joy and gratitude. We staid with them until eleven o’clock, and although we only walked eleven miles after that, I was completely used up the next morning when we went into camp again. I cooked three of the chickens that day, and we eat one for dinner and one for supper.
That night we walked twenty miles on the railroad, crossing four long iron covered bridges, and went into camp in a large piece of woods some distance back from the railroad, as daylight again warned us to seek shelter.
About eight o’clock we made a fire and were roasting our last chicken, making our breakfast in the meantime, on the one left from the night before. I had laid aside my overcoat, and was therefore in the full dress of a cavalry lieutenant, shoulder straps and all, and we were chatting over our breakfast, when I heard the brush crackle close by, and looking up we saw two white men within a few rods of us; one dressed in the homespun usually worn by citizens in the south, and the other wearing the uniform of a Confederate soldier.
I just had time to say to Alban, they are unarmed and I can handle one if you can the other, when they came up to where we were sitting. They both seemed a little embarrassed, and the situation was slightly embarrassing to us.
After the usual salutation, the elder of the two said, somewhat apologetically: “We saw the smoke out here, and thought some one had built a fire while possum hunting last night, and was afraid it might get into our fence, which is just through yonder thicket.”
We assured him that we would put the fire out carefully when we went away, which we would do as soon as our chicken was done. I was well aware that they must know we were Yankees, and feared that our tramp was over for the present, but anything was better than suspense, and rising to my feet I said to the old man who stood near me: “Well, sir, I suppose you know that we are Yankees; now, what do you propose to do with us?”
“Yes,” said he, “I know you are Yankees, but you need have no fear of us, we are Union men.”
“How is it, then, that this young man wears the Confederate uniform?”