The enemy's camp, which upon closer inspection, turned out to be simply the resting-place of a local patrol, unconnected with any regular command, broke up early in the morning, and Glazier and his companion once more had a clear road. Although hungry from long fasting, they ran swiftly over the swampy ground, and felt so elated to find themselves again in a state of freedom, that they laughed and joked like boys released from school, and pushed on until the verge of an extensive morass was reached and passed, and they found themselves in a section of country well wooded and watered, the alternate hills and vales presenting a pleasing variety to the eye.
PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
There was here also a public road, but it would have been dangerous to travel thereon, and they therefore strode on beneath the trees and umbrageous undergrowth of the wood. Having had no breakfast, "blueberries" were not precisely the diet they would have selected for dinner, but as necessitas non habet leges, they quietly munched their berries, and we may hope felt grateful that matters were no worse. After a while they made a sudden detour, crossing the high-road, and by so doing, again broke the trail. Next they came to a clearing, but the sight of a planter leaning against a fence, soon sent them back to the friendly shelter of the wood. Late in the afternoon they came to a large plantation on the border of which was a copse, in which they lay down and watched for the opportunity of communicating with some of the house slaves. At the expiration of about an hour, a lady, probably the mistress of the estate, passed within a few yards of them, accompanied by a troupe of merry children. They however went on their way, utterly unconscious of the close proximity of two terrible Yankees!
Here our fugitives remained quietly concealed until night, and then cautiously crept away. They proceeded onward until they found themselves near a junction of cross-roads. Arrived at this junction, matters looked serious. Unlike mariners, they had no compass; unlike Indians, they were inexpert at discerning a trail; and what was more appalling, they distinctly saw reared up against the moonlit sky—a gallows! Our two friends approached this object very cautiously. It was not an unusual thing to hang spies, and not unfrequently those mistaken for spies, but to hang them on a regularly constructed gibbet was not usual; and therefore while Lemon insisted that the black and skeleton-like object that loomed against the horizon was a gallows, he still entertained some doubt upon the subject, and determined to satisfy himself by a closer inspection.
The weird object before them proved to be an innocent guide-board—the article of all others they most needed at that moment. Like the celebrated laws of Nero, however, the directions were posted very high, but Lemon being tall, our hero mounted on his shoulders and by the light of the moon deciphered the inscription. They had now no difficulty in choosing their way. On they pushed therefore; and during the black darkness of the night, crept through the tangled underwood, and over swamps where loathsome, crawling things that shun by day the presence of man, now seemed to seek his acquaintance. How mysterious are these dense untrodden forests of the South! The very air one breathes is living. Throughout the day a million chirping, whirring, twittering sounds, salute the ear. The short grass beneath the forest trees moves, writhes, and creeps with microscopic life, until the brain grows dizzy at the sight. At night it is no less marvellous to hear the myriad denizens of the swamps and woods; and terrible when your tread on some soft, velvety substance reveals a sleeping snake, who, at the same moment, attacks you with his poisonous fang, mayhap, fatally.
It is a singular, but well-accredited fact, that these great Southern swamps have been yearly deteriorating, while the surrounding country has been growing in civilization. Old writers tell us that the reptile life now infesting them in such rank luxuriance had scarcely any existence one hundred years ago. Colonel Byrd writes of the "Dismal Swamp:" "Since the surveyors have entered the Dismal Swamp they have seen no living creature; neither bird, beast, insect nor reptile, came to view. Not even a turkey-buzzard will venture to fly over it, no more than the Italian vulture will venture to fly over the filthy lake of Avernus; or the birds of the Holy Land over the Salt Sea where Sodom and Gomorrah once stood." And yet, in the present day, insect and reptile life swarms there in every form through all the hours of the day and night!
Our fugitive friends, however, felt little inclination to philosophize upon this subject. The hope of coming liberty strengthened their limbs, and they bent all their energy to the task of moving forward; walking, running, creeping, until the dawn of day approached, when weary and footsore they sought some secure spot and lay down and slept—perchance to dream of "Home, sweet Home"—perchance of "Camp Sorghum," and its "chivalric" guards—perchance of the dreadful blood-hounds whose fatal scent might even then be on their trail!