is jack-knife, in stripping
the bark from the roots of a sassafras tree that grew out of one of the
fissures of the cliff. Apparently, he gave no attention to the clamor
around him, nor seemed to show a wish to conceal himself from notice.

"Who in the devil are you--and what are you about?" exclaimed the
leading soldier, as he mounted the rock and came up immediately behind
Robinson, who was still fixed with one knee upon the ground, plying his
labor at the root of the tree.

"Good day, friend," said Robinson, looking up over his shoulder, "Good
day! From your looks you belong to the army, and, if that's true,
perhaps you mought be able to tell me how far it is from here to the
river?"

"Get up on your feet," said the other, "and follow me quickly! I will
take you to one who will oil the joints of your tongue for you, and put
you to studying your catechism. Quick, fellow, move your heavy carcass,
or, I promise you, I will prick your fat sides with my sword point."

"Anywhere you wish, sir, if you will only give me time to gather up this
here bark," said the sergeant, who, hereupon, heedless of the
objurgation of the trooper, deliberately untied the handkerchief from
his neck, and spreading it out upon the ground, threw into it the pieces
of bark he had been cutting, and then, taking it in his hand, rose and
walked after the soldier.

He was conducted to the troop, who were waiting in the road the return
of the men that had been despatched on this piece of service.

"Quick, quick, move yourselves! we have no time to lose," cried out the
officer in command of the detachment, as Horse Shoe and his guide came
in view: and then, after an interval of silence, during which the
sergeant walked heavily to the spot where the troop waited for him, he
added with an impatient abruptness, "Make few words of it, sir. Your
name, where from, and where are you going?"

"My name, captain--if your honor is a captain, and if I miscall you, I
ax your honor's pardon: my name is--is--Stephen Foster, Steve most
commonly."

"Well, whence do you come?"

"From Virginny."

"Fool! why do you stop?"

"You axed, I think, where I was going? I was going to get on my horse
that's broke his bridle, which I see you have cotched for me: and then
back to my young mistress, sir, that was taken sick over here at a
gentlewoman's house on Pedee. She thought a little sassafras tea might
help her along, and I was sent out to try and get a few scrapi