They gave us a quantity of victuals to take with us, and instructed us as well as possible as to our road.  They warned us to keep away from the young negros, but trust the old ones implicitly.  Thanking them over and over for their exceeding kindness, we bade them good-by, and started again on our journey.  Our supplies lasted two days, during which time we made good progress, keeping away from the roads, and flanking the towns, which were few and insignificant.  We occasionally came across negros, of whom we cautiously inquired as to the route and towns, and by the assistance of our map and the stars, got along very well indeed, until we came to the Suwanee River.  We had intended to cross this at Columbus or Alligator.  When within six miles of the river we stopped at some negro huts to get some food.  The lady who owned the negros was a widow, who was born and raised in Massachusetts.  Her husband had died before the war began.  An old negro woman told her mistress that we were at the quarters, and she sent for us to come to the house.  She was a very nice-looking lady, about thirty-five years of age, and treated us with great kindness.  Hommat being barefooted, she pulled off her own shoes and stockings and gave them to him, saying that she would go to Town the next day and get herself another pair.  She told us not to try to cross the river near Columbus, as their troops had been deserting in great numbers, and the river was closely picketed to catch the runaways.  She gave us directions how to go so as to cross the river about fifty miles below Columbus.  We struck the river again the next night, and I wanted to swim it, but Hommat was afraid of alligators, and I could not induce him to venture into the water.

We traveled down the river until we came to Moseley’s Ferry, where we stole an old boat about a third full of water, and paddled across.  There was quite a little town at that place, but we walked right down the main street without meeting any one.  Six miles from the river we saw an old negro woman roasting sweet potatos in the back yard of a house.  We were very hungry, and thought we would risk something to get food.  Hommat went around near her, and asked her for something to eat.  She told him to go and ask the white folks.  This was the answer she made to every question.  He wound up by asking her how far it was to Mossley’s Ferry, saying that he wanted to go there, and get something to eat.  She at last ran into the house, and we ran away as fast as we could.  We had gone but a short distance when we heard a horn, and soon-the-cursed hounds began bellowing.  We did our best running, but the hounds circled around the house a few times and then took our trail.  For a little while it seemed all up with us, as the sound of the baying came closer and closer.  But our inquiry about the distance to Moseley’s Ferry seems to have saved us.  They soon called the hounds in, and started them on the track we had come, instead of that upon which we were going.  The baying shortly died away in the distance.  We did not waste any time congratulating ourselves over our marvelous escape, but paced on as fast as we could for about eight miles farther.  On the way we passed over the battle ground of Oolustee, or Ocean Pond.