"Dey looked across de road and seen another house and asked us whose house it was. We told dem it was our master's house. Dey saw we had a mare in de yard and told us to saddle her up. And told my oldest brother to be ready to go with dem when dey come back. Dey went half way to my master's house and for some reason wheeled and came back. My mother looked out de door and seen them coming and said: 'Here they come.'
She said to my oldest brother, 'Get under dat puncheon floor, maybe dey won't take August,' meaning me. I was about 12 or 13 years old den. We had a great big hearth, de rocks and puncheon came right up to it. My mother raised de one end of a puncheon and my brother hid there under de floor. De bushwhackers came back to de house and searched everyplace, failed to find him, even raised de floor and looked under, but my brother had crawled so far up in de corner dey did not see him. Dey asked my mother where he was and said, 'By God! We want to know.' Mother answered and said she sent him down to de field to get some corn for de hogs and told me to run down there and look for him.
"Well I did. I run down in dat field and am going yet. I stayed out in dat woods for four days and nights with nothing to eat but what wild grapes and hazel nuts I could find. I knew better dan to go back dere, but I did not know where to go. I fell on a plan to go to my young missus, Zennie. Dey lived off de main road, two miles from where we lived. When I got to her home, it was in de evening about four o'clock. I saw my cousin, Melie, fifteen or sixteen years old, but was afraid to speak to her. I saw her out a piece from de barn, but I wouldn't let her see me. I stayed all night in de barn, but I wouldn't let her see me. I stayed all night in de barn and next morning I peeped out de window and saw her again. She was picking beans. I hollered and she recognized me and asked me if I wasn't August. I said yes. She told me to come on out and go with her, dat my mother and all of dem was at their house den. My oldest brother, Jim, was there too. He was four years older dan me.
"Den I went down to de house and dey soon fixed me something to eat. But only a little because dey were afraid it might make me sick. My mother told me to stay with Miss Zennie. Miss Zennie had married de second time to a man by de name of George McGee. Her first husband, Dave Goodman, was killed right at de start of de war by a gang of robbers something like de bushwhackers, who went in gangs of ten and fifteen, stealing niggers or anything else dey could get their hands on.
"George McGee and my brother Jim hid out in de bluffs at Rollin's Ferry, a place where ferry boats ran. George McGee hid because he did not want to go in de army. So he takes my brother and hides in de bluffs. Dey both came to de house for provisions about twelve o'clock dat night and took me with dem. We camped out dat night and next morning dey said to me: 'You stay here. Dey is out of meat at de house.' So dey went back to de house and killed and dressed a young heifer and came back at night to get me. We had a good time, eating supper and playing. Along in de night I heard something like horses hoofs hitting de ground. I told my mother and she said, 'You don't hear nothin'.'
"George McGee, de young master said, 'Wait, he is right. I hears someting, too!'
"We jumped up and went out and down a steep holler and made it back to our camp dat night yet. Next morning we wondered who it could have been dat we heard. Dat night we went back to see how de folks was getting on and found out it was my own father and our own master who had come a hunting for us. If we had known, we would not have run.
"My master told his sister, Miss Zennie to keep us hid out of de way, that we were doing all right. I stayed in dat bluff about two years, until de close of de war, I never saw my father and master for over a year. I saw my mother every time I went to de house for something to eat, about twelve o'clock at night. My father had to hide out, too. He kept de stock out in de bushes, watching after de master's affairs while he was away.
"We stayed hid until dey took General Lee. Den we went back to ol' master's house and it was not long until peace was declared. Our house was about a quarter of a mile from de master's, on a farm he had bought from an old Dutchman, about one hundred and sixty acres. One morning, ol' master come over early and said: 'Jim, by God! You are a free man dis morning, as free as I am. I can't hold you any longer. Now take your family and go over on dat hundred and sixty acres I bought and go to work.' He was giving us all a chance to pay out de farm for ourselves a home. My father said: 'There's nothing to go with it to help clear it and live.' To which ol' master answered: 'There's de smoke-house, take all you want and I'll furnish you with everything else you need for a year, until you get a start.' He allowed us to use anything to work with, he had on his place.
"Den we went to work. Ol' master said, 'I've got all de land my heart could wish but none of it is cleared off. Go down dere with your boys and I'll send two men, both white (Irishmen, Jim and Tom Norman) and all of you clear off dat land. I'll give you five years lease to clear all you can. All you clear, you can have half." Well, we cleared fifty acres dat winter. We made rails, fenced it and put it all in corn dat first year. There was six of us to do dis, my cousin joined my father, brother, and myself, and de two white men.