the earth. Once in a while I caught glimpses of great
red houses, with stately pillars, among the trees. They put me in mind
of the palaces in Bunyan, their windows all golden in the morning sun;
and as we jogged ahead, I pondered on the delights within them. I saw
gangs of negroes plodding to work along the road, an overseer riding
behind them with his gun on his back; and there were whole cotton fields
in these domains blazing in primrose flower,--a new plant here, so my
father said. He was willing to talk on such subjects. But on others, and
especially our errand to Charlestown, he would say nothing. And I knew
better than to press him.

One day, as we were crossing a dike between rice swamps spread with
delicate green, I saw the white tops of wagons flashing in the sun at
the far end of it. We caught up with them, the wagoners cracking their
whips and swearing at the straining horses. And lo! in front of the
wagons was an army,--at least my boyish mind magnified it to such. Men
clad in homespun, perspiring and spattered with mud, were straggling
along the road by fours, laughing and joking together. The officers
rode, and many of these had blue coats and buff waistcoats,--some the
worse for wear. My father was pushing the white mare into the ditch to
ride by, when one hailed him.

"Hullo, my man," said he, "are you a friend to Congress?"

"I'm off to Charlestown to leave the lad," said my father, "and then to
fight the Cherokees."

"Good," said the other. And then, "Where are you from?"

"Upper Yadkin," answered my father. "And you?"

The officer, who was a young man, looked surprised. But then he laughed
pleasantly.

"We're North Carolina troops, going to join Lee in Charlestown," said
he. "The British are sending a fleet and regiments against it."

"Oh, aye," said my father, and would have passed on. But he was made to
go before the Colonel, who plied him with many questions. Then he gave
us a paper and dismissed us.

We pursued our journey through the heat that shimmered up from the road,
pausing now and again in the shade of a wayside tree. At times I thought
I could bear the sun no longer. But towards four o'clock of that day
a great bank of yellow cloud rolled up, darkening the earth save for
a queer saffron light that stained everything, and made our very faces
yellow. And then a wind burst out of the east with a high mournful note,
as from a great flute afar, filling the air with leaves and branch