the woods-pasture, horses and sheep in the
medder, and everything like it is at home. And down a little ways from
the house there's a cool springhouse, with clear, cold water wellin' up
and ripplin' out over the clean, white sand, with crocks o' fresh milk
setting in it with cream half an inch thick, and big jars o' buttermilk
from the last churnin', and piggins o' fresh butter, and mebbe a big
crock full o' smearkase. Si, do you like smearkase?"

"'Deed I do," answered Si, his mouth watering at the thought. "My
goodness, you jest orter eat some o' mother's smearkase. She jest lays
over all the women in the country for smearkase. Many's the time I've
come in hot and sweatin from the field, and got a thick slice o' bread
clear acrost the loaf from one o' the girls, and went down to our
spring-house and spread it with fresh butter, and then put a thick layer
o' smearkase on top o' that, and then got about a quart o' cool milk,
that was half cream, from ono o' the crocks, and then--"

"Shot up, Si," shouted Shorty, desperately. "Do you want me to bang you
over the head with my{97} musket? Do you s'pose I kin stand everything?
But I believe there's jest sich a spring-house down there, and we'll
find it plumb-full o' all them sort o' things. Le's mosey on."

"Do you think there's any rebels around here?" said Si, the caution
which experience had taught him making a temporary reassertion of
itself.

"Naw," said Shorty, contemtpuously, "there ain't no rebel this side o'
the Duck River, unless some straggler, who'd run if he saw us. If we
ketch sight o' one we'll take him into camp, jest to gratify you. But I
ain't lookin' for none. Buttermilk and cornpone's what I want."

The scene was certainly peaceful enough to justify Shorty's confidence.
A calmer, quieter landscape could not have been found in the whole
country. A negro was plowing in a distant field, with occasional
sonorous yells to his team. He did not seem to notice the soldiers, nor
did a gray-haired white man who was sitting on the fence superintending
him. A couple of negresses were washing the family linen by a fire under
a large kettle on the creek bank, at some distance from the house, and
spreading the cleansed garments out on the grass to dry and bleach.
Cattle and horses were feeding on the fresh Spring grass and sheep
browsing on the bushes on the hillside. Hens cackled and roosters
crowed; the guineas, ever on the lookout, announced their approach with