From the section of the town occupied by the whites could be heard the nickering and running of horses, the bellowing of the cows, the barking of the dogs, and now and then a fusillade of pistol shots. While in the negro section closest to his home, Colonel Gaitskill could hear the Rev. Vinegar Atts bellowing like a bull of Bashan, praying in a voice which could be heard a mile, while those who knelt with him backed him up in his stentorian implorations with responses which echoed like a roll of thunder:
“O Lawd, dese here is turr’ble times——”
(“Listen, Lawd, dat’s de trufe—turr’ble times——”)
“De sun is done turned inter darkness an’ de moon inter blood, an’ de drefful day of de Lawd am come——”
(“O-o-o Lawd, she sho’ am come——”)
“We done saw de woman clothed wid de sun an’ de moon am under her foots——”
(“Ah-ee! Amen!”)
“Accawdin’ to Dy Word she done flied out to de wilderness whar she done been nourished fer a time, an’ half a time, an’ yuther times——”
(“Ah-ee! Double time——”)
“Woe to de inhabiters of de yearth——”