r prospects than they
had dreamed of a few hours before.

By the end of the fourth night they found that their six
days' stock of food was exhausted, and their strength almost
gone. Their only hope of food now lay in confiscating a
chicken from the vicinity of some farm-house, and eating it
raw. For this purpose they cautiously approached the
out-buildings of a farm-house. Here, while secretly scouting
for the desired chicken, they were discovered by a negro.
They had no need to fear him. There is no case on record of
a negro betraying an escaped prisoner into the hands of the
enemy. The sympathy of these dusky captives to slavery could
be safely counted upon, and many a fugitive owed to them his
safety from recapture.

"Glad to see you, gemmen," he cried, courteously. "You's
Yankee off'cers, 'scaped from prison. It's all right wid me,
gemmen. Come dis way; you's got to be looked arter."

The kindly sympathy of this dusky friend was so evident that
they followed him without a thought of treachery. He led
them to his cabin, where a blazing fire in an old-fashioned
fireplace quickly restored that sense of the comfort of
warmth which they had for days lost.

Several colored people were present, who surrounded and
questioned them with the warmest sympathy. A guard was
posted to prevent surprise, and the old mammy of the family
hastened to prepare what seemed to them the most delicious
meal they had ever tasted. The corn-bread _pones_ vanished
down their throats as fast as she could take them from the
hot ashes in which they were baked. The cabbage, fried in a
skillet, tasted like ambrosia. The meat no game could
surpass in flavor, and an additional zest was added to it by
their fancy that it had been furnished by the slave-holder's
pantry. They had partaken of many sumptuous meals, but
nothing to equal that set before them on the hospitable
table of their dusky hosts. They were new men, with new
courage, when they at length set out again, fully informed
as to their route.

On they went through the cold, following the difficult
paths which they chose in preference to travelled roads,
while the dogs,--for the peninsula seemed to them to be
principally peopled by dogs,--by their unceasing chorus of
barks, right, left, and in front, kept them in a state of
nervous exasperation. Many times did they turn from their
course through fear of detection from these vociferous
guardians of the night.

On the fifth day they