"To what regiment do you belong," the Colonel asked.
"I belong to the Ninth Illinois Cavalry."
"Where are you stationed?" he asked.
"I'm stationed at Jacksonport."
"How many are there of you?"
"Do you take me for a fool?" said I.
"Oh no, I take you for a Yankee soldier. This gentleman told me that you were sent as a protection guard, and I want to tell you that you are perfectly safe, as far as we are concerned. Do you know when your men are to pass here?"
"I do not know anything about it."
By this time quite a number of the soldiers had got over the fence and were talking to Jim and Thorne. It was getting late in the afternoon, and away off in the west could be heard distant thunder. The Colonel ordered them to mount, and they rode on about half a mile and went into camp. I noticed that the young man went with them.
Every move that was made by the family we were guarding showed them to be rebels. The great, black clouds came rolling up from the west. The lightning was something fearful to behold, and the deep bass thunder shook the earth to its very foundation. The negroes were running in every direction. It could easily be seen that they were terribly frightened at the approaching storm. Great drops of rain began to fall.