here Headen, better known in the
settlement as "Man Heady," was mustering his party. It now being near
Christmas, and the squire's family in daily expectation of a relative,
who was a captain in the Confederate army, it was deemed prudent for us
to go on to Headen's under the guidance of Tom. Setting out at sunset on
the 23d of December, it was late in the evening when we arrived at our
destination, having walked nine miles up the mountain trails over a
light carpeting of snow. Pausing in front of a diminutive cabin, through
the chinks of whose stone fireplace and stick chimney the whole interior
seemed to be red hot like a furnace, our guide demanded, "Is Man Heady
to hum?" Receiving a sharp negative in reply, he continued, "Well, can
Tom get to stay all night?" At this the door flew open and a skinny
woman appeared, her homespun frock pendent with tow-headed urchins.

"In course you can," she cried, leading the way into the cabin. Never
have I seen so unique a character as this voluble, hatched-faced,
tireless woman. Her skin was like yellow parchment, and I doubt if she
knew by experience what it was to be sick or weary. She had built the
stake-and-cap fences that divided the fields, and she boasted of the
acres she had plowed. The cabin was very small. Two bedsteads, with a
narrow alleyway between, occupied half the interior. One was heaped with
rubbish, and in the other slept the whole family, consisting of father,
mother, a daughter of sixteen, and two little boys. When I add that the
room contained a massive timber loom, a table, a spinning-wheel, and a
variety of rude seats, it will be understood that we were crowded
uncomfortably close to the fire. Shrinking back as far as possible from
the blaze, we listened in amused wonder to the tongue of this seemingly
untamed virago, who, nevertheless, proved to be the kindest-hearted of
women. She cursed, in her high, pitched tones, for a pack of fools, the
men who had brought on the war. Roderic Norton, who lived down the
mountain, she expressed a profane desire to "stomp through the turnpike"
because at some time he had stolen one of her hogs, marked, as to the
ear, with "two smooth craps an' a slit in the left." Once only she had
journeyed into the low country, where she had seen those twin marvels,
steam cars and brick chimneys. On this occasion she had driven a heifer
to market, making a journey of forty miles, walking beside her horse
and wagon, which she took along