rent directions. He and I were the last to start. Alfred said:
"Don't let the bushes touch you;" at the same time he ran through the
bushes with such a rattling noise one could have heard him a great
distance. He wore one of those old fashioned oil cloth coats made in
Virginia; and, as he ran, the bushes, striking against the coat, made a
noise like the beating of a tin board with sticks. The funny part of it
was that, having cautioned us to be careful about noise, he made more
than all of us. By this time the woods were resounding with the yelping
of the hounds and the cries of their masters. The hounds numbered some
fourteen. The men howled and cheered in concert with the brutes, for
they knew that they were on the right trail, and it would be but a short
time before they caught us all. I had gotten further away than any of
them. Having run about a mile, I came to a farm, and started across an
open field, hoping to reach a wood beyond, where I might conceal myself.
Before I was half way across the field, on looking back, I saw the dogs
coming over the fence, and knowing there was no chance of my getting to
the woods, I turned around, and ran back to a persimmon tree, and just
had time to run up one of the branches when the dogs came upon the
ground. I looked and saw the men, Williams the nigger-catcher, and Dr.
Henry and Charles Dandridge. As soon as Williams rode up, he told me to
come down, but I was so frightened I began to cry, yet came down
trembling. The dogs laid hold of me at once, tearing my clothes and
biting my flesh. Dr. Dandridge was just riding up, and seeing what was
happening, yelled out to Williams: "I thought your dogs didn't bite."
"Oh! well," said Williams, "he aint hurt--we've got to let 'em bite a
little."

They took us all back to the fence where I crossed over, all the others
having been caught. Our hearts were filled with dismay. All looked as if
they were condemned to be hung. We knew not what was to be done with us.
The women were pitiful to see, crying and moaning--all courage utterly
gone. They started back with us to Old Master Jack's, at Panola, and we
stopped for the night at a small farm house. The old woman who kept it
said, tauntingly: "You niggers going to the Yankees? You all ought to be
killed." We started on the following morning, and got back home at one
o'clock in the afternoon. All of us were whipped. All the members of the
family were very angry. Old Lady Jack McGee was so enr