"Massa," said he, scratching his head, and looking quite sober, "Massa, hadn't I better hide the mules? Oh I's 'fraid the Linkum sojers will come take 'em, cause dey gobbles up ebery ting dey lays dere hans on, jis like geese. I yerd dey was coming; mus' I hide de mules?"
"No, Sam, the scalawags are more than a hundred miles away; they are near Natchez."
"Well, maybe, t'was our own Fedrate soldiers."
"No, Sam, our nearest soldiers are at Baton Rouge."
"All right Massa. I don't want to lose all dem fine mules."
As soon as it was convenient Sam gave Louis the desired information. "Here," said Sam, when Louis was ready to start again, "is something to break your fast, and if you goes dis way you musn't let de white folks know what you's up to, but you trust dis," said he, laying his hand on his own dark skin.
His new friend went with him several miles, and pointing him out the way left him to pursue his journey onward. The next person he met with was a colored man, who bowed and smiled, and took off his hat.
Louis returned the bow, and was passing on when he said, "Massa, 'scuse me for speakin' to you, but dem secesh been hunting all day for a 'serter, him captin dey say."
Louis turned pale, but bracing his nerves he said, "Where are they?"
"Dey's in the house; is you he?"