f our entrance. There was the same appearance of fixed grief upon
her countenance that we had remarked in the man; only with the
difference, that the expression was less morose and fierce, but on the
other hand more mournful.

"Can we have something to eat?" said I to the woman.

"We don't keep a tavern," was the answer.

"The other party cannot be far off," said one of my companions. "We will
give them a sign of our whereabout." And so saying, he passed out at the
door and walked a few paces in the direction of a cotton field.

"Stop!" cried the backwoodsman, suddenly placing himself before him.
"Not a step further shall you go, till you satisfy me who you are, and
where from."

"Who and where from?" replied our comrade, a young doctor of medicine
from Tennessee. "That is what neither you nor any other man shall know
who asks after such a fashion. If I'm not mistaken we are in a free
country." And as he spoke he fired off his rifle.

The report of the piece was echoed so magnificently from the deep
forests which surrounded the plantation, that my other companions raised
their guns to their shoulders with the intention of firing also. I made
them a sign in time to prevent it. Although there could hardly be any
real danger to be apprehended, it appeared to me advisable to hold
ourselves prepared for whatever might happen. The next moment a shot was
heard--the answer to our signal.

"Keep yourself quiet," said I to the backwoodsman; "our companions and
their guide will soon be here. As to your cow, you can hardly have so
little common sense as to suppose that five travellers would shoot a
beast that must be perfectly useless to them."

As I left off speaking, there emerged from the forest our other
detachment and the guide, the latter carrying two fat turkeys. He
greeted the backwoodsman as an old acquaintance, but with a degree of
sympathy and compassion in the tone of his salutation which contrasted
strangely with his usual rough dry manner.

"Well, Mr Clarke," said he, "heard nothing yet? I'm sorry for it--very
sorry."

The backwoodsman made no reply, but his rigid sturdy mien softened, and
his eyes, as I thought, glistened with moisture.

"Mistress Clarke," said our guide to the woman, who was standing at the
house-door, "these gentlemen here wish for a snack. They've plenty of
every thing, if you'll be so good as to cook it."

The woman stood without making any reply: the man was equally silent.
There