settled and devoured and then moved on, leaving a barren waste
behind him.

As the morning advanced, the settlements grew thinner, until suddenly,
upon reaching the crest of a hill, a great stretch of cultivated
lowland lay spread before them. In the centre of the plantation, near
the road which ran through it, stood a square, new, freshly painted
frame house, which would not have seemed out of place in some Ohio or
Michigan city, but here struck a note alien to its surroundings. Off
to one side, like the Negro quarters of another generation, were
several rows of low, unpainted cabins, built of sawed lumber, the
boards running up and down, and battened with strips where the edges
met. The fields were green with cotton and with corn, and there were
numerous gangs of men at work, with an apparent zeal quite in contrast
with the leisurely movement of those they had passed on the way. It
was a very pleasing scene.

"Dis yer, suh," said the coachman in an awed tone, "is Mistah
Fetters's plantation. You ain' gwine off nowhere, and leave me alone
whils' you are hyuh, is you, suh?"

"No," said the colonel, "I'll keep my eye on you. Nobody'll trouble
you while you're with me."

Passing a clump of low trees, the colonel came upon a group at sight
of which he paused involuntarily. A gang of Negroes were at work. Upon
the ankles of some was riveted an iron band to which was soldered a
chain, at the end of which in turn an iron ball was fastened.
Accompanying them was a white man, in whose belt was stuck a revolver,
and who carried in one hand a stout leather strap, about two inches in
width with a handle by which to grasp it. The gang paused momentarily
to look at the traveller, but at a meaning glance from the overseer
fell again to their work of hoeing cotton. The white man stepped to
the fence, and Colonel French addressed him.

"Good morning."

"Mornin', suh."

"Will you tell me where I can find Mr. Fetters?" inquired the colonel.

"No, suh, unless he's at the house. He may have went away this
mornin', but I haven't heard of it. But you drive along the road to
the house, an' somebody'll tell you."

The colonel seemed to have seen the overseer before, but could not
remember where.

"Sam," he asked the coachman, "who is that white man?"

"Dat's Mistah Haines, suh--use' ter be de constable at Cla'endon, suh.
I wouldn' lak to be in no gang under him, suh, sho' I wouldn', no,
suh!"

After this ejaculation, which see