This explanation appeared to satisfy the rebel officer, as he remarked, "that was a good idea, and I wish I had been as sensible myself." After inquiry about the probability of obtaining some "grub" from the auntie, whose hut he supposed the place to be, and receiving a discouraging reply, Glazier was advised to call upon a Mr. Brown. The property of this loyal gentleman had been protected from seizure by General Sherman, on account of his having claimed to be a "good Union man," and by General Wheeler, because he was a "good rebel," and his larder was described to be, in consequence, well stocked. Our hero prepared to depart, first earnestly inquiring the road to Mr. Brown's residence.
"About two sights and a jambye," said the Alabamian, which interpreted, meant, twice as far as they could see, and the width of a swamp.
Having obtained all the information he desired, without the remotest intention of availing himself of the "good Union man's" hospitality, Glazier said "good-day," and rejoined his friend. They made the best of their way along a path, until a turn carried them out of the rebel officer's sight, then wheeled suddenly round, and ran rapidly for a considerable distance in the opposite direction to Mr. Brown's.
CHAPTER XXIV.
RECAPTURED BY A CONFEDERATE OUTPOST.
Fugitive slaves. — A rebel planter. — The Big Ebenezer. — A sound of oars. — A ruse de guerre. — Burial of a dead soldier. — A free ride. — Groping in the dark. — "Who goes there!" — Recaptured. — Nil desperandum. — James Brooks. — Contraband of war. — Confederate murders. — In the saddle again. — A dash for freedom. — Again captured. — Tried as a spy.
Our hero had been somewhat impressed with the subdued tone and manner of the Confederate officer with whom he had lately parted. To some extent he manifested a discouraged and cowed bearing, and this, taken with some other circumstances in their recent experience, led our friends to hope that the end was not very remote.
After bidding adieu to the Confederate, they walked about two miles before discovering a place of concealment in another swamp. Here they unexpectedly came upon a party of negroes sleeping around a large fire. They proved to be fugitive slaves, who had abandoned their homes in Burke County, Georgia, to follow in the rear of Sherman's army. They had formed part of a body of several hundred persons of all ages and both sexes, who had escaped and sought refuge upon an island in Big Ebenezer Creek, and had been inhumanly shelled out by the Confederates. Thence they had scattered over the country in small bands, and the present detached party were working their way back to their masters. Captain Glazier despatched one of them with a haversack in search of some food among the resident colored people, and the result was so far satisfactory that our friends were put in possession of a good supply of sweet potatoes.
After another march, and while still in the swamp, they heard wood-choppers, and Lemon started to reconnoitre. Guided by the sound of the axe, he approached a small clearing, and seeing a negro, as he had expected, wielding the axe, walked forward to him, but was suddenly startled by observing a burly white man sitting on a log, smoking and looking on. They eyed each other for a moment in silence, when presently the planter demanded in a blustering voice, "What are you doing here, in a blue uniform?" Lemon was not slow to answer in a corresponding tone, "I am serving my country, as every loyal man should do: what have you to say about it?"
"I believe you're a d—d Yankee," said the planter. "You're welcome to your opinion, old Blowhard," responded Lemon. "This is a free country; I am a Yankee—all but the d—d—and now what do you propose to do about it?" (All this in an assumed tone of bluster, as the best adapted to the situation.) "We'll see! we'll see!" rejoined the planter, and at once started in a direct line for his house. Lemon lost no time, but returned as quickly as possible to his comrade, and without any deliberation they evacuated the enemy's country with as much expedition as their tired legs were capable of exerting. Their ears were soon saluted with the music of a pack of hounds let loose on their track by the burly rebel, and the affair would have had a disastrous ending if they had not opportunely encountered a considerable stream, and by wading through it for nearly a mile, succeeded in cutting off the scent of the hounds.