drawing of sabers and the rush of many feet. The noisy thunder
clouds came nearer and the voices that had made us tremble were no
longer heard. Uncle Eb began to fasten the oil blanket to the stalks of
corn for a shelter. The rain came roaring over us. The sound of it was
like that of a host of cavalry coming at a gallop. We lay bracing the
stalks, the blanket tied above us and were quite dry for a time. The
rain rattled in the sounding sheaves and then came flooding down the
steep gutters. Above us beam and rafter creaked, swaying, and showing
glimpses of the dark sky. The rain passed--we could hear the last
battalion leaving the field--and then the tumult ended as suddenly as
it began. The corn trembled a few moments and hushed to a faint whisper.
Then we could hear only the drip of raindrops leaking through the green
roof. It was dark under the corn.

Chapter 2

We heard no more of the voices. Uncle Eb had brought an armful of wood,
and some water in the teapot, while I was sleeping. As soon as the rain
had passed he stood listening awhile and shortly opened his knife and
made a little clearing in the corn by cutting a few hills.

'We've got to do it,' he said, 'er we can't take any comfort, an' the
man tol' me I could have all the corn I wanted.'

'Did you see him, Uncle Eb?' I remember asking.

'Yes,' he answered, whittling in the dark. 'I saw him when I went out
for the water an' it was he tol' me they were after us.'

He took a look at the sky after a while, and, remarking that he guessed
they couldn't see his smoke now, began to kindle the fire. As it burned
up he stuck two crotches and hung his teapot on a stick' that lay in
them, so it took the heat of the flame, as I had seen him do in the
morning. Our grotto, in the corn, was shortly as cheerful as any room in
a palace, and our fire sent its light into the long aisles that opened
opposite, and nobody could see the warm glow of it but ourselves.

'We'll hev our supper,' said Uncle Eb, as he opened a paper and spread
out the eggs and bread and butter and crackers. 'We'll jest hev our
supper an' by 'n by when everyone's abed we'll make tracks in the dirt,
I can tell ye.'

Our supper over, Uncle Eb let me look at his tobacco-box--a shiny thing
of German silver that always seemed to snap out a quick farewell to me
before it dove into his pocket. He was very cheerful and communicative,
and joked a good deal as we lay there waiting in the firelight. I