After remunerating the boatman, and bidding him a hearty farewell, Scobell started up the river. His first plan was to walk as far as Dumfries, and from that point commence his operations among the rebel camps, but after reflection, he concluded to make his way to the Rappahannock, and endeavor to work his way on one of the river boats as far as Fredericksburg, which would save him a walk of some fifty miles and materially expedite his journey. He accordingly set out for the river and, walking briskly, he found himself about noon at Leestown, a small landing-place on the Rappahannock. Feeling somewhat fatigued by his long tramp, he remained over night, and early on the following morning repaired to the wharf, where he was in hopes of finding a boat on which he could secure his passage. He had not long to wait, for shortly after his arrival the packet boat "Virginia" steamed up to the landing, and soon the men were engaged in putting on board a quantity of miscellaneous freight, that was destined for Fredericksburg. Finding that there was plenty of work to do, Scobell stepped quickly on board and seeking the captain politely asked permission to work his passage. The Captain, who was a kind and genial man at heart, although he carefully veiled these characteristics under a rough exterior, and a bluff and impetuous demeanor, listened to the request, and being in want of some extra help, turned to Scobell and said:
"You black rascal, what do you want at Fredericksburg? Come now, no lies, or I'll throw you into the river!"
"I done tell no lies, Massa Cap'n," replied Scobell, with a broad grin overspreading his face, "but I've bin back in de kentry to see some ob my folks dar, and I dun got no money fur ter git back."
"So you want me to take you to Fredericksburg, do you?" ejaculated the Captain, good-naturedly. "Well, go below and tell the cook to put you to work!"
Scobell was about to express his thanks, when the Captain blurted out:
"Clear out, d—n you! I've no time for talk now."
Scobell hurried below, and seeking out the cook was soon busily engaged at work; before he had been very long employed he made a friend of his sable instructor, and was as merry as a cricket. The run to Fredericksburg was about twelve hours, but owing to shoal water they were obliged to stop at Coulter's Wharf to wait for the rising of the tide. In the evening the negro hands gathered on the deck around the smoke-stack, and with the stars twinkling overhead, they made the shores ring with their mirthful melodies. Among the party was an old negro, who had spent almost his entire life upon the river, and who was an excellent performer on the banjo, and he accompanied the singers with his instrument. "Nelly Gray," "Bob Ridley," "Way down upon de Swanee River," and a host of the most popular songs of the day were rendered in a style that elicited the heartiest applause from the delighted passengers. The climax of enjoyment was reached, however, when my Scobell, in his splendid baritone, and accompanied by the old negro and his banjo, sang that sweet old Scottish ballad:
"Maxwelton's braes are bonny,
Where early fa's the dew."
The applause which greeted him upon its conclusion was most hearty and enthusiastic, and when he gave them
"A man's a man for a' that,"