Pursued by Horses, Hounds, and Men—Another Night in the Cane-brake—An
Alligator—A Pleasant Discovery—The Pass-word—Slaves at Work—A Negro
Supper—Important Information—A Panther—A Chase to avoid a
Chase—Bloodhounds Again—Fourth-of-July Dinner—Dismal Night in the
Ruins of a Meeting-house.
While thus making our way through the forest, we fancied we heard the
sound of pursuers, and were once more obliged to take refuge in the
dismal, but now welcome cane-brake. Just where we entered the swamp,
the water was very shallow, and, consequently, afforded us but poor
protection from the bloodhounds, whose peculiar cries we expected
to hear every moment. We therefore made our way with as much haste
as possible far into our miry retreat, where the depth of mud and
water secured us from the scenting of the fearful animals and their
bloodthirsty masters.
Presently we came upon a stream of water, which, diverging from the
river at a point above, made a circuit, and fell into the river again
at a point below us, thus converting the area it embraced into an
island. The water looked deep, and we did not relish a soaking, after
having our clothes dried during our stay in the woods. But once on the
island, our safety was insured for there was no ferry-boat, nor even a
skiff, in that silent, murky swamp, by which our would-be captors might
cross over. Besides, we had seen too many hardships to be frightened by
trifles, and we therefore plunged boldly in, my brave comrade taking
the advance, and soon reached the island.
That night, June 24th, we made ourselves a bed on the banks of the
Ocmulgee, by cutting down the canes which grew around us in luxuriance.
We also kindled a fire, after screening the spot so effectually as to
prevent its light reaching the eyes of any foe; and by its cheering
flames we partially dried our wet and ragged clothing. Casting
ourselves upon our rude couch, we watched the beautiful stars in the
distant realm on high, and listened to the murmurs of the crystal
stream that was protecting us from pursuit, until at last we fell
into a deep slumber. Just before closing our eyes, we heard, at some
little distance below us, a noise resembling that which might be made
by a huge log, one end of which was caught upon a sand-bank, and the
other playing loosely in the stream. But we were too sleepy to suppose
that there was any danger indicated by the odd sound, and we paid no
attention to it.
Protected by that God who watched Hagar in the wilderness, we slept
peacefully until day-dawn, when we were suddenly aroused by the most
terrific noise I had ever heard. It resembled the sound of a heavy
steam-whistle, though not quite so loud nor shrill. Remembering at the
moment a description by the Rev. Joshua Boucher, who had traveled in
Georgia, of the bellowing of an alligator, I at once concluded that
this must be one. Stepping from my tent, or rather cane-hut, I had
ocular demonstration of the fact, for there, only a short distance from
me, lay the hideous reptile in all his ugliness. Thinking it about time
that one or the other of us should change quarters, I threw a chunk at
him. He took the hint, and crawled away into the water, only, however,
to return in about ten minutes to his old post, where, opening his
fearful jaws, and keeping them so until they were covered with flies,
he snapped them together with a report that chilled our blood. This
was Wednesday morning, June 25, and we intended to remain all day in
the swamp, for the river was lined with boys and negroes. During the
afternoon, we espied a skiff on the opposite side, and laid several
plans to obtain possession of it, but they were all frustrated. This
proved to be a blessing, however, for, while making our last attempt,
we were seen by an old negro, who seemed to recognize us immediately.
From this lowly slave we learned that the river was guarded for miles,
to prevent our escape. Our pursuers were on the watch for us all the
way to Hockinsville. This newly-found friend pointed out to us our
only path of escape, and appointed a spot where he would meet us at
midnight, and bring us some food. We blessed the negro, and, following
his directions, reached the place of refuge, where we anxiously awaited
his second appearance. But the hour passed on, and so did several more,
but he came not. He had, doubtless, been seized by the patrollers.
The sun of the 26th found us still pressing forward. We had gotten
thus far, like the old apostles, with “neither scrip nor staves,” but
we felt that God was with us, and his servants, the poor, downtrodden
slaves, helped us on. Whenever we met one of the latter, who replied
to our question, “Can’t dis yer day,” he was a friend, but unable to
assist us on account of the patrollers. If one answered, “I know you,”
he was posted, and all was well.
We passed the night in the pine-woods, I remaining awake, and guarding
my friend, Collins, who was completely worn out. During the next day,
we made a good distance, in spite of numerous difficulties. By the
28th, our rebel clothing was well nigh worn off us, and our hunger
began to increase terribly. In the evening, we came upon some slaves
in a field, among whom were several females, about eighteen or twenty
years of age. The latter were almost naked, having nothing on them save
a very short skirt, fastened round the waist, and held in its place
by straps, which passed over the shoulders. All the upper portion of
the body, and about three-fourths of the nether limbs, were thereby
exposed. None of their complexions were black, while one or two of them
were nearly white. We agreed with these slaves to hide ourselves in
a neighboring lane until night, when they promised to bring us food.
Shortly after, one of them brought us the unwelcome intelligence that
we were in danger, and warned us to again take to the swamp, which
was some half a mile away. This we did, and after wandering some time
along the edge thereof, sat down at last beside a clear crystal spring,
in which were sporting numbers of beautiful fish. We could hear the
negroes singing in the field—which exercise was a signal we understood
to mean that we should lie still until it ceased, when we might safety
venture out to the lane—until about nine o’clock, when all became
quiet. By midnight we returned to our designated hiding-place, where
we were soon joined by a black man and one of the girls, a beautiful,
modest creature we had seen in the corn-field. They brought us fat
meat, corn-bread, greens, and “bonny-clabber,” which was a welcome
sight to us. During the conversation we held with these negroes, we
learned that their master had gone to the war, leaving them in the
charge of an overseer. We ascertained, also, that “the Yankees” had
possession of Darien, on the coast, and that, in consequence, the
slaves had been removed into the interior of Georgia. Close by there
were three hundred rice-farm hands encamped, who were in a starving
condition, having been driven to the interior of the State by their
masters, in order to prevent confiscation, and being unable to make
a living for themselves. Our humble friends informed us that if we
continued straight on we would reach Darien in two days, provided we
exercised due caution to avoid the patrollers, who, since our escape
from Macon, had been searching for us vigilantly. The night was well
nigh all spent in conversation with these slaves, and we had not got
much further on our way, when the dawn broke upon us, compelling us to
leave the road and take to the pines. We were subsequently obliged to
leave even these, and plunge once more into the more friendly swamps.
After our slender stock of provisions was exhausted, we became
exceedingly hungry, and the day passed away without our obtaining
even so much as a frog or fish. We slumbered all the night, which was
chilly and damp, in the cane-brake. A fire which we had kindled, we
were obliged to extinguish, for fear that its light might point out our
refuge to some enemy. During the stilly hours that followed, we were
once disturbed by a strange noise, which, I subsequently ascertained,
in a conversation with Rev. Dr. Kost, must have been made by a panther.
The next day, being terribly fatigued and hungry, we resolved to make
an attempt at replenishing our commissary department. The sun came
up bright and very hot, and our journey through the swamp-palms was
indeed a toilsome one; but these self-same palms secured us against our
pursuers, and we therefore did not complain.
An effort that we made shortly after to leave the marsh, discovered to
us our pursuers, and we were once more forced back to our muddy asylum,
where we concealed ourselves beneath a muscadine vine until twelve
o’clock. While so concealed, a strange noise fell upon our ears, and
presently we saw a black man coming directly toward us, blowing a horn
to call swine. When he was about thirty feet from us, we called to him,
with the expectation of learning from him at what points on the river
the guards were stationed, and also of obtaining from him something to
eat.
Upon being first hailed, he exclaimed, “Don’t know you, sah!” and when,
stepping from my concealment, I called to him a second time, he seemed
terrified. The next instant he fled madly away from us, we pursuing him
desperately, in order to secure him, and thus save ourselves from new
pursuers. But, notwithstanding the fact that he carried a bushel basket
half filled with corn upon his back, he distanced us. Once he stumbled
in a swail, and sent the corn and mud all over himself, but he quickly
regained his feet, and was soon after lost to our view.
[Illustration: “We beheld the glistening eyes of the hounds, saw their
long tongues lolling from between their powerful jaws, and saw their
large, terrible teeth shining like pearls.”—Page 139.]
We were now indeed in peril; and very shortly afterward, the wild bay
of the bloodhounds rang upon our ears through the murky air of the
morass. Nearer, clearer, deadlier came the dreadful sounds, and we
crouched in our retreat, expecting every moment to see the ferocious
animals bounding upon us. But, thank God for his watchful mercy, the
brutes, misguided by a stratagem which the negroes had taught us how to
execute, were deceived, and we had the infinite delight of seeing them
dash into the stream, swim to the other side, and then, renewing their
fierce cries, bound away, closely followed by fifteen human bloodhounds
mounted on fleet horses. The peril was not past yet, however, for,
finding themselves thrown from the scent, the well-trained brutes soon
came back to the stream, recrossed to the side we were on, and coming
to our old track, lay down, snuffing and panting, not a hundred yards
from us. Think of that, reader! Peeping through the canes we beheld
the glistening eyes of the hounds, saw their long tongues lolling
from between their powerful jaws, and saw their large, terrible teeth
shining like pearls.
Their savage masters stood on the bank of the swail cursing us, and
threatening what they would do if they retook us. Once more the God of
our fathers stretched forth His arm and delivered us, for, hearing them
post their men we struck away from them in a northern direction, and
shortly had the satisfaction of leaving them some fifteen miles in the
rear.
Onward, onward we pushed, until so overcome with fatigue that we were
fain to stretch ourselves upon the sand and sleep. This was July 3d.
The succeeding day—the Fourth—broke upon us bright and beautifully,
and we sped forward with all the power of our limbs. We came at last
to a very scanty corn-field, which, as we learned from the slaves who
attended to it, yielded only about two and a half bushels to the acre.
Cotton was the staple in that region, and with it were bought all
the necessaries of life. Poor as was the corn, however, we carefully
confiscated some roasting-ears, on which, with half of a frog, we made
our Fourth-of-July dinner, thanking our Divine Preserver for the gift.
The remaining half of the frog was carefully reserved, with some corn,
for a future meal.
The morrow was cloudy and cool. We were now drawing near to the coast,
for, as we went along, we espied a turtle belonging to a species that
lived only in salt water. His shell was extremely beautiful, and would,
doubtless, have been very valuable had we thought about dollars and
cents; but some berries, which we found, were of far greater worth to
us at that time.
Night found us still wandering in the land of rattlesnakes, scorpions,
and traitors. Next day, while hunting a sweet-potato patch for a stray
root or two, we saw a negro man, to whom we did not, however, get a
chance to speak. Fearing that he might not, perhaps, be friendly, we
once more betook ourselves to the pines, where, although we did not
know it at the time, we were hotly pursued. Soon afterwards, the rain
fell in torrents, while the thunder rolled in heavy peals, and the
lightning played sharply about us. When evening came, we were soaking
wet, and chilled through; and coming to an old dilapidated building,
that was overgrown with Spanish moss, and seemed as though it had been
uninhabited for many a year, we hurried into it. By the aid of the
lightning, we found that it was nearly filled with half-wild goats,
which, on our arrival, hastily evacuated the premises, leaving us
in free and undisputed possession. The structure was nothing more
than an old church, with some rude benches in one end, and a ruined
chancel at the other. I here found some leaves of a Bible, upon which
I pillowed my head for the night, and slept the more sweetly that I
did so. Adjoining this church was a graveyard, containing some rough
tombstones, beneath which slept the dead ones of many years, all
unconscious of the events passing above their heads.
The following day we left our retreat, and continued our flight in
the midst of a terrible storm. About three o’clock, we discovered a
sweet-potato patch, but it had been completely stripped of every root.
That night, unable, on account of having got our matches wet, to kindle
a fire, we slept in a corn-field, pulling the dried stalks over us to
partially shelter us from the descending rain. The next day, we resumed
our flight, or rather our wading, for every rivulet was swollen to a
good-sized creek. In endeavoring to cross a turbid stream upon the
“giddy footing” of a loose log, we were precipitated into twelve feet
of water, and were obliged to swim to the other shore, grateful that we
escaped with nothing worse than a ducking.