I called after him

"What's the matter, Uncle ?" It must have been something in the tone of my voice or form of my speech, for he stopped, hesitated, and after a brief pause as though in doubt as to something, he replied:

"Nuth'n', marsa." Then I

"Don't be afraid; what's the matter? why do you leave the road?"

He advanced toward me hesitatingly, leading the girl. Then I told him my name and where I lived.

His face brightened at once, and he came up until he stood by my horse's head, the girl still holding on to him, and he said:

"Beez yo' de Yankee Kunnel whar live on Marsa Black's plantation?"

"Yes."

"Beez yo' de gemen de white folks war a talkin' right smart about?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"Well, den, I reckon yo' is. Bless de Lord!"

By this I could half imagine the trouble, for I had observed that the girl's frock was stained and stiff with blood that had flowed from deep gashes upon her head, neck, and shoulders, and I said to him:

"Tell me all about it, Uncle." In response to this invitation, the man approached until he stood at the side of my horse, where, with his hand at times resting on the stirrup of the saddle, and at other times engaged in wiping the tears from his eyes, he told me his story in a tone of voice that equally with his manner, indicated his perfect trust in me.

Briefly told, this negro's master, "Mars Si," he called him, only the night before had beaten the little girl at his side, his daughter, nearly to "def's do," and, while his son, Andrew, the following morning, was "a stan'in' thar in he own doah, doin' nuffin' 'cepn' watchin' Mars Si, fur ter keep um off'n' de gal, Mars Si done shot de boy t'wel he wor dead."

They had run away from the plantation, the old man and his daughter, and traveled on foot through the swamps on their way to town in search "ob 'jest." Uncle Isam, that was his name, was on a quest for justice. He had " done heerd dar wor a booro in de Azoo City," and hoped to find what he wanted there.

General Bell, formerly of the Mississippi River Marine Brigade, was "trying" to plant on a place near Tokeba. I should pass his residence on my way home. longer a bureau in town for the freed people.

There was no

I so informed Isam and requested him to accompany me to the General's home, where we would all talk the matter over, and advise him what to do.

I knew there was little to hope from the law officers at Yazoo City, and did not know but Isam would do better to abandon his quest altogether. But after General Bell had heard the story, he accompanied Isam to town, resolved to ascertain for a certainty whether or not any notice would be taken of the matter. A warrant was sworn out by Isam, charging his employer with murder, and placed in the hands of the sheriff for execution.

Three days afterward, being in town, I met this sheriff, who informed me that he had "business on the creek"-that was "Mars Si's home"-which would necessitate a journey there, and on his return he would bring Captain Cambeethat was Mars Si-in with him. But the case was neglected until Mars Si came in voluntarily and gave himself up.

On the hearing before the same justice who had fined Pomp and me, it was proved by six witnesses "for the State" that on the night before the killing, Mars Si arrived home "nigh on to midnight;" that the girl who had been set to watch for his coming, while her mistress slept, had fallen asleep herself and was not prompt to admit him; that on being admitted he flew at the girl with his stick and beat her until her screams, heard at the quarter, a hundred or more yards distant, brought her father, who took her in his arms and

carried her to his home; that the following morning Mars Si, accompanied by one of his neighbors, and both armed with guns, was advancing on Isam's house to force the girl to return home with him; seeing which, Isam's son, who stood in the door on the watch, turned as if to re-enter" an' shet de do';" that as the son began this movement, Mars Si raised his gun and shot him dead.

For the defense, it was shown on the testimony of Mars Si himself and his neighbor, that "as Mars Si approached to recover the gal, the son turned like he wor g'wan to take down his gun"—a squirrel gun which was hanging on the wall inside the house-and Mars Si thereupon fired "in selfdefense." All agreed that the fatal wound was in the front and side. Mars Si admitted the "chastisement" of the evening before; that the father had taken the girl away; that she was but thirteen years of age; that he was advancing on the house to recover her, accompanied by his neighbor; that both were armed with double-barrelled shotguns, and that it was Cambee's shot which killed the boy. Mars Si's lawyer, an old one, testified that he had known Captain Cambee for many years before the war; that he was an old citizen of the county, highly connected and greatly respected; that he had been known as a kind master, and was "a high-toned, honorable gentleman," and then announced that the defense rested their

cause.

The attorney for the prosecution, retained by Isam after great difficulty, began his speech by offering as an apology for appearing for Isam, the fact that "there are strangers in our midst, and my refusal to appear for this nigro might be misconstrued to the injury of our people." But, he had "never appeared in a cause so repugnant to all his finer feelings," and so forth.

The attorney for the defense appreciated the situation, and the feelings of the opposing counsel. Here was "a high-toned, honorable gentleman in jeopardy of his life on the testimony of nigros. They would not deny the killing. They

justified it. But they had fallen upon strange times.

The

most that could be made of the charge was manslaughter. They would plead guilty to that. It was within the knowledge of the court that by the laws of the commonwealth, the only testimony offered by the State was inadmissible. However, they were for the present under the rule of a military despotism. He appreciated the delicate duty imposed upon his honor; he was under duress, and they would consent to bail." So Mars Si, having given Mr. Stockdale and another wellknown and leading citizen as surety for appearance when wanted, was released and that was the end of it.

"Never indicted ?"

"No."

"Nothing further ever done about it?" "No."

General Bell and I were present at this hearing. The court-room was packed with whites, and as we left the hall and passed down the stairway the spectators groaned aloud. Some shouted, "O'oophe !" "O'oophe!" "polecat!" "polecat!"

Had it not been for the remnant of fear remaining that a way might be found for their punishment, in such a case, we should doubtless have been hanged.

These and similar events, occurring in the winter of 1866-'67 and spring of 1867, took effect upon our partner, Mr. Moss, and, by June following, of the nineteen ex-Federal officers and soldiers in that county, engaged, some in planting, some in merchandising, and some in manufacturing, there was not one who had not been the victim of such outrages, or a witness of them. So, that as a class we were a unit in opinion and feeling as to the purposes of the late rebels respecting their former slaves.

CHAPTER XV.

ARMY WORMS AND OTHER WORMS-OUR STALWART FRIEND LAS SOED ANOTHER KIND OF FOOL'S ERRAND-HOW TO GET "RID

A THE D-N YANKEES "HURRAH FOR COL. J. J. U. BLACK— WAS COLONEL BLACK" AGENT IN FACT "?

DURING the first days of September, Uncle David thought

he saw signs of the army worm in his "crap." David was planting "on shares" that year.

In less than ten days, nearly all of the six hundred acres looked as though they had been swept by fire; all the green leaves and shoots had been eaten off, and the crop was ruined. Only our "stalwart friend" remained steadfast.

We had already shipped several cargoes of lumber to Vicksburg, one to New Orleans, and were getting ready another one for that market. I have not the exact figures, but there must have been at least half a million feet of lumber piled in our yard at the mill, nearly a million of shingles, and in logs in the river ready for the mill there were fully a million more feet of lumber.

None of this property, not even the saw-mill, was in any way liable under the terms of our contract with Mrs. Black for any part of the rent-money for Tokeba.

Although the crop was a failure, in all probability there would be enough corn and cotton made to pay the rent. Besides, there were upon the plantation, belonging to our