near betraying my trust. About the middle of the
third day I grew very hungry, and as the cattle were lying down, I
crept to the edge of the canebrake to see if my dinner was not
forthcoming. Soldiers were in sight, which explained everything.
Concealed in the rank cane I stood and watched them. Suddenly a squad
of five or six turned a point of the brake and rode within fifty feet
of me. I stood like a stone statue, my concealment being perfect.
After they had passed, I took a step forward, the better to watch them
as they rode away, when the grass dropped out of the bell and it
clattered. A red-whiskered soldier heard the tinkle, and wheeling his
horse, rode back. I grasped the clapper and lay flat on the ground, my
heart beating like a trip-hammer. He rode within twenty feet of me,
peering into the thicket of cane, and not seeing anything unusual,
turned and galloped away after his companions. Then the lesson, taught
me by my mother, of being "faithful over a few things," flashed
through my mind, and though our cattle were spared to us, I felt very
guilty.

Another vivid recollection of those boyhood days in Georgia was the
return of my father from the army. The news of Lee's surrender had
reached us, and all of us watched for his coming. Though he was long
delayed, when at last he did come riding home on a swallow-marked
brown mule, he was a conquering hero to us children. We had never
owned a horse, and he assured us that the animal was his own, and by
turns set us on the tired mule's back. He explained to mother and us
children how, though he was an infantryman, he came into possession of
the animal. Now, however, with my mature years and knowledge of
brands, I regret to state that the mule had not been condemned and was
in the "U.S." brand. A story which Priest, "The Rebel," once told me
throws some light on the matter; he asserted that all good soldiers
would steal. "Can you take the city of St. Louis?" was asked of
General Price. "I don't know as I can take it," replied the general to
his consulting superiors, "but if you will give me Louisiana troops,
I'll agree to steal it."

Though my father had lost nothing by the war, he was impatient to go
to a new country. Many of his former comrades were going to Texas,
and, as our worldly possessions were movable, to Texas we started. Our
four oxen were yoked to the wagon, in which our few household effects
were loaded and in which mother and the smaller children rod