ormed an occasional snore, watching him
narrowly between my eyelashes from the shadow of my arm. The inevitable
occurred--he slept audibly.

A half-hour later I rose quietly to my feet, particularly careful not to
disturb the blackguard at my side, and moved as silently as possible to
the door. Despite my care the latch clicked. The old lady sat bolt upright
in bed and stared at me. She was too late. I sprang through the door and
struck out for the nearest point of woods, in a direction previously
selected, vaulting fences like an accomplished gymnast and followed by a
multitude of dogs. It is said that the State of Alabama has more dogs than
school-children, and that they cost more for their keep. The estimate of
cost is probably too high.

Looking backward as I ran, I saw and heard the place in a turmoil and
uproar; and to my joy the old man, evidently oblivious to the facts of the
situation, was lifting up his voice and calling his dogs. They were good
dogs: they went back; otherwise the malicious old rascal would have had my
skeleton. Again the traditional bloodhound did not materialize. Other
pursuit there was no reason to fear; my foreign gentleman would occupy the
attention of one of the soldiers, and in the darkness of the forest I
could easily elude the other, or, if need be, get him at a disadvantage.
In point of fact there was no pursuit.

I now took my course by the north star (which I can never sufficiently
bless), avoiding all roads and open places about houses, laboriously
boring my way through forests, driving myself like a wedge into brush and
bramble, swimming every stream I came to (some of them more than once,
probably), and pulling myself out of the water by boughs and
briars--whatever could be grasped. Let any one try to go a little way
across even the most familiar country on a moonless night, and he will
have an experience to remember. By dawn I had probably not made three
miles. My clothing and skin were alike in rags.

During the day I was compelled to make wide detours to avoid even the
fields, unless they were of corn; but in other respects the going was
distinctly better. A light breakfast of raw sweet potatoes and persimmons
cheered the inner man; a good part of the outer was decorating the several
thorns, boughs and sharp rocks along my sylvan wake.

Late in the afternoon I found the river, at what point it was impossible
to say. After a half-hour's rest, concluding with a fervent pray