“Der warn’t no Indians ’roun’ der jest den, an’ ebbery thing wuz peaceful an’ quiet, an’ I heah de sojers a jokin’ an’ sayin’ day wuz jest a spendin’ de winter in de Sunny South an’ de Governmen’ wuz payin’ de grub bills.
“I reckelmember jest like I am tellin’ you ter day, I wuz standin’ on dat big piazza ’side o’ Missus; you know I wuz riz up ter be ’roun’ white folks, foh I wuz allus so peart dat my ole Missus in Virginia would call me in ter de parlor ter show me off ter de white ladies.
“Well, honey, dis mornin’ de sojers wuz a cleanin’ der guns an’ laughin’ an’ dey ax Mistis, ‘How many deer you want foh dinner?’ Den anudder likely young sojer would say, ‘How many turkeys you want, Mistress Mundane?’ an’ den dey went off a whistlin’ an’ a singin’; but oh, my God, what lamentations der wuz dat same night.
“Twan’t long will I heah, bang—bang—bang, an’ I says ter myself, Marthy Jane, too many deer, too many wild turkey, sound ter me like Indian shootin’; ’spect dem rapscallions sneak up on de sojers, an’ dis black chile gwine ter see foh herself. I jest slipped out o’ de house an’ kachunk! kachunk! I went down that big lane as fas’ as a horse can trot till I come ter de prairie an’ den I clumb in ter a big oak tree, den de nex’ thing I do I wrap dat gray moss ’roun’ me so dem debbils couldn’t see me.
“How dem Indians did shoot! If dat sight didn’t beat de lan’! Zipp—zipp—bang—bang, an’ ebbery time dey shoot dey yell like debbils, yo-ho-e-hee-eee bang, den fall on de groun’ an’ load dat musket, stan’ up an’ shoot again; de sojers a droppin’ ebbery time a Indian shoot.
“De sojers wuz so skeered dey couldn’t load der guns when de Indians would gib dat Satan screech.
“An’ den de poor sojers jest dropped guns an’ run in ter de lake an’ de woods an’ dem savages would go an’ take de guns an’ de ammunition offen de dead bodies an’ den go runnin’ like a deer.
“Lord a mercy, hit seems ter me I heah de wind blowin’ ghosts an’ de sperits ob de brave gem’men what wuz killed on dat field ebbery time I talks ’bout dat day.
“Yes, Mistis, dat scrummage wuz called de battle ob Payne’s Prairie. When de Colonel found out de Indians killed so many ob de sojers, he tore roun’ like a wild bear an’ clar ’foh de Almighty dat he wuz gwine ter sen’ off an’ fetch de whole United States troops ter come down an’ kill ebbery Indian in Florida.
“But what good wuz all dat big talk; dey hab two regimen’s stayin’ der den, and ’foh dey could git outen de garrison de sly ole Indians wuz all gone an’ didn’t leave a track behin’ dem, nuther.