Just at evening, in going through a field, we suddenly came across three negro men, who at first sight of us showed signs of running, thinking, as they told us afterward, that we were the “patrols.”  After explaining to them who we were and our condition, they took us to a very quiet retreat in the woods, and two of them went off, stating that they would soon be back.  In a very short time they returned laden with well cooked provisions, which not only gave us a good supper, but supplied us for the next day with all that we wanted.  They then guided us on our way for several miles, and left us, after having refused compensation for what they had done.

We continued to travel in this way for nine long weary nights, and on the morning of the tenth day, as we were going into the woods to hide as usual, a little before daylight, we came to a small pond at which there was a negro boy watering two mules before hitching them to a cane mill, it then being cane grinding time in Georgia.  He saw us at the same time we did him, and being frightened put whip to the animals and ran off.  We tried every way to stop him, but it was no use.  He had the start of us.  We were very fearful of the consequences of this mishap, but had no remedy, and being very tired, could do nothing else but go into the woods, go to sleep and trust to luck.

The next thing I remembered was being punched in the ribs by my comrade nearest to me, and aroused with the remark, “We are gone up.”  On opening my eyes, I saw four men, in citizens’ dress, each of whom had a shot gun ready for use.  We were ordered to get up.  The first question asked us was: 

“Who are you.”

This was spoken in so mild a tone as to lead me to believe that we might possibly be in the hands of gentlemen, if not indeed in those of friends.  It was some time before any one answered.  The boys, by their looks and the expression of their countenances, seemed to appeal to me for a reply to get them out of their present dilemma, if possible.  Before I had time to collect my thoughts, we were startled by these words, coming from the same man that had asked the original question: 

“You had better not hesitate, for we have an idea who you are, and should it prove that we are correct, it will be the worse for you.”

“‘Who do you think we are?’ I inquired.”

“‘Horse thieves and moss-backs,’ was the reply.”

I jumped at the conclusion instantly that in order to save our lives, we had better at once own the truth.  In a very few words I told them who we were, where we were from, how long we had been on the road, etc.  At this they withdrew a short distance from us for consultation, leaving us for the time in terrible suspense as to what our fate might be.  Soon, how ever, they returned and informed us that they would be compelled to take us to the County Jail, to await further orders from the Military Commander of the District.  While they were talking together, I took a hasty inventory of what valuables we had on hand.  I found in the crowd four silver watches, about three hundred dollars in Confederate money, and possibly, about one hundred dollars in greenbacks.  Before their return, I told the boys to be sure not to refuse any request I should make.  Said I: