ers came scurrying back. The guard next to him shouted,
"You Yanks! you G--d d--d Yanks!" and fired into the deep hole. No more
tunneling at Danville.[8]

More successful and more amusing were several attempts by individual
officers one at a time. The water parties of four to eight went under a
strong guard two or three times a day down a long hill to the river Dan.
On the slope alongside the path were a number of large brick ovens,[9]
in which, we were told, the Confederates used to bake those big squares
of corn bread. The iron doors when we passed were usually open. On the
way back from the river, one officer on some pretense or other would lag
behind the rearmost soldier of the guard, who would turn to hurry him
up. The next officer, as soon as the soldier's back was turned, would
dodge into an open oven, and the careless guards now engaged in a loud
and passionate controversy about slavery or secession would not miss
him! Then, as night came on, the negroes in the vicinity, who, like all
the rest of the colored people, were friendly to us, would supply the
escaped officer with food and clothing, and pilot him on his way
rejoicing toward the Union lines. One by one, six officers escaped in
that way, and many of us began to look forward to the time when our turn
would come to try the baking virtues of those ovens!

But it was important that the escaped officer should not be missed. How
should we deceive the nondescript that we called "the roll-call
sergeant"? Morning and evening he carefully counted every one. How make
the census tally with the former enumerations? Yankee ingenuity was here
put to a severe test; but Lieutenant Titus, before mentioned, solved the
problem. With his table-knife saw he cut a hole about two feet square in
the floor near the northeast corner of the upper room. A nicely fitting
trapdoor completed the arrangement. Through this hole, helped by a rude
rope ladder of strips of rags, and hoisted to the shoulders of a tall
man by strong arms from below, a nimble officer could quickly ascend.
Now those in the lower room were counted first. When they broke ranks,
and the human automaton faced to the west and moved slowly towards the
stairs with three or four "Yanks" clustering at his side in earnest
conversation, the requisite number of spry young prisoners would "shin
up" the ladder, emerge, "deploy," and be counted over again in the upper
room! The thing worked to a charm. Not one of the six was