each other for an hour, not daring to speak.
above a whisper.
These cat-fights occurred nearly every night, and we made up in the daytime.
One not in our place might think it strange that we should lose our temper, but we were strained up to the highest point, and were nervous and irritable.
It was the same with nearly all who escaped.
I have known two men who were fast friends who were never the same after they were recaptured, Not so with Frank and I.
He was such a dear, good fellow that he gave in to me nearly every time.
Finding we were on the wrong road we struck across the country and came upon a nice cabin near a large house.
We were listening under the window, and could hear the hum of a spinning-wheel.
As we stood there a woman opened the shutter and, as the day was just breaking, she saw us. We entered the house and found a yellow man in bed. He said, “Go away from here.”
We told him who we were, but he would do nothing for us. We had our clubs, were in good fighting condition and holding them over him made him swear that he would not tell he had seen us. The woman was friendly and gave us directions how to reach the creek, but we dare not take the road, fearing the yellow fellow would forget his promise.
This was the first instance where a man with a drop of negro blood in his veins had refused to help us. We turned into the woods, but they were so thin that we were forced to cut down small pine trees and stick them in the ground where we lay down.
It was so cold we could not sleep, and as we dare not travel through this open country, we kept alive by rolling over and over on the ground.
Besides being cold we suffered for food, as we had eaten nothing since the previous day. We