to bring back the corn-meal received in
payment for the animal. Charged by her husband to bring back the heifer
bell, and being denied that musical instrument by the purchaser, it
immediately assumed more importance to her mind than horse, wagon, and
corn-meal. Baffled at first, she proceeded to the pasture in the gray of
the morning, cornered the cow, and cut off the bell, and, in her own
picturesque language, "walked through the streets of Walhalla cussin'."
Rising at midnight she would fall to spinning with all her energy. To
us, waked from sleep on the floor by the humming of the wheel, she
seemed by the light of the low fire like a witch in a sunbonnet, darting
forward and back.

We remained there several days, sometimes at the cabin and sometimes at
a cavern in the rocks such as abound throughout the mountains, and which
are called by the natives "rock houses." Many of the men at that time
were "outliers"--that is, they camped in the mountain fastnesses,
receiving their food from some member of the family. Some of these men,
as now, had their copper stills in the rock houses, while others, more
wary of the recruiting sergeant, wandered from point to point, their
only furniture a rifle and a bed-quilt. On December 29, we were joined
at the cavern by Lieutenant Knapp and Captain Smith, Federal officers,
who had also made their way from Columbia, and by three refugees from
Georgia, whom I remember as Old Man Tigue and the two Vincent boys.
During the night our party was to start across the mountains for
Tennessee. Tom Handcock was momentarily expected to join us. Our guide
was busy with preparations for the journey. The night coming on icy
cold, and a cutting wind driving the smoke of the fire into our granite
house, we abandoned it at nine o'clock and descended to the cabin.
Headen and his wife had gone to the mill for a supply of corn-meal.
Although it was time for their return, we were in nowise alarmed by
their absence, and formed a jovial circle about the roaring chimney.
About midnight came a rap on the door. Thinking it was Tom Handcock and
some of his companions, I threw it open with an eager "Come in, boys!"
The boys began to come in, stamping the snow from their boots and
rattling their muskets on the floor, until the house was full, and yet
others were on guard without and crowding the porch. "Man Heady" and his
wife were already prisoners at the mill, and the house had been picketed
for some hours awaiti