A day had made a gratifying change in their situation. The
day before they had been prisoners, with no apparent
prospect of freedom for months. This day they were free,
even if in a far from agreeable situation. Liberty solaced
them for the weariness of that day's anxious vigil. How long
they would remain free was the burning question of the hour.
They were surrounded with perils. Could they hope to pass
through them in safety? This only the event could tell.
The wintry cold was one of their difficulties. Their meagre
stock of food was another. They divided this up into very
small rations, with the hope that they could make it last
for six days. The second night they moved in an easterly
direction, and near morning ventured to approach a small
cabin, which proved to be, as they had hoped, occupied by a
negro. He gave them directions as to their course, and all
the food he had,--a small piece of pone bread.
That day they suffered much, in their hiding place, from
the cold. That night, avoiding roads, they made their way
through swamp and thicket, finding themselves in the morning
chilled with wet clothing and torn by briers. Near morning
of the third night they reached what seemed to be a swamp.
They concluded to rest on its borders till dawn, and then
pass through it.
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