Behind a wall on the opposite shore a
great field of rustling corn filled a broad valley and stood higher than
a man's head.

While I went to wash my face in the clear water Uncle Eb was husking
some ears of corn that he took out of his pocket, and had them roasting
over the fire in a moment. We ate heartily, giving Fred two big slices
of bread and butter, packing up with enough remaining for another day.
Breakfast over we doused the fire and Uncle Eb put on his basket He made
after a squirrel, presently, with old Fred, and brought him down out of
a tree by hurling stones at him and then the faithful follower of our
camp got a bit of meat for his breakfast. We climbed the wall, as he
ate, and buried ourselves in the deep corn. The fragrant, silky tassels
brushed my face and the corn hissed at our intrusion, crossing its green
sabers in our path. Far in the field my companion heaped a little of the
soft earth for a pillow, spread the oil cloth between rows and, as we
lay down, drew the big shawl over us. Uncle Eb was tired after the toil
of that night and went asleep almost as soon as he was down. Before I
dropped off Fred came and licked my face and stepped over me, his tail
wagging for leave, and curled upon the shawl at my feet. I could see no
sky in that gloomy green aisle of corn. This going to bed in the morning
seemed a foolish business to me that day and I lay a long time looking
up at the rustling canopy overhead. I remember listening to the waves
that came whispering out of the further field, nearer and nearer, until
they swept over us with a roaring swash of leaves, like that of water
flooding among rocks, as I have heard it often. A twinge of homesick
ness came to me and the snoring of Uncle Eb gave me no comfort. I
remember covering my head and crying softly as I thought of those who
had gone away and whom I was to meet in a far country, called Heaven,
whither we were going. I forgot my sorrow, finally, in sleep. When I
awoke it had grown dusk under the corn. I felt for Uncle Eb and he was
gone. Then I called to him.

'Hush, boy! lie low,' he whispered, bending over me, a sharp look in his
eye.' 'Fraid they're after us.'

He sat kneeling beside me, holding Fred by the collar and listening. I
could hear voices, the rustle of the corn and the tramp of feet near
by. It was thundering in the distance--that heavy, shaking thunder that
seems to take hold of the earth, and there were sounds in the corn
like the