ness to dip
down for another invocation.

Reaching us, every human being must grasp our hands, amid exclamations
of "Bress you, mas'r," and "Bress de Lord," at the rate of four of the
latter ascriptions to one of the former.

Women brought children on their shoulders; small black boys learned on
their back little brothers equally inky, and, gravely depositing them,
shook hands. Never had I seen human beings so clad, or rather so unclad,
in such amazing squalid-ness and destitution of garments. I recall one
small urchin without a rag of clothing save the basque waist of a lady's
dress, bristling with whalebones, and worn wrong side before, beneath
which his smooth ebony legs emerged like those of an ostrich from its
plumage. How weak is imagination, how cold is memory, that I ever cease,
for a day of my life, to see before me the picture of that astounding
scene!

Yet at the time we were perforce a little impatient of all this piety,
protestation, and hand-pressing; for the vital thing was to ascertain
what force had been stationed at the bluff, and whether it was yet
withdrawn. The slaves, on the other hand, were too much absorbed in
their prospective freedom to aid us in taking any further steps
to secure it. Captain Trowbridge, who had by this time landed at a
different point, got quite into despair over the seeming deafness of the
people to all questions. "How many soldiers are there on the bluff?" he
asked of the first-comer.

"Mas'r," said the man, stuttering terribly, "I c-c-c--"

"Tell me how many soldiers there are!" roared Trowbridge, in his
mighty voice, and all but shaking the poor old thing, in his thirst for
information.

"O mas'r," recommenced in terror the incapacitated wit-ness, "I
c-c-carpenter!" holding up eagerly a little stump of a hatchet, his
sole treasure, as if his profession ought to excuse from all military
opinions.

I wish that it were possible to present all this scene from the point of
view of the slaves themselves. It can be most nearly done, perhaps, by
quoting the description given of a similar scene on the Combahee River,
by a very aged man, who had been brought down on the previous raid,
already mentioned. I wrote it down in tent, long after, while the old
man recited the tale, with much gesticulation, at the door; and it is by
far the best glimpse I have ever had, through a negro's eyes, at these
wonderful birthdays of freedom.

"De people was all a hoein', mas'r," said the