They were fired upon, again and again, by the pickets along the banks, until finally every man on board was wounded; and still they got safely through.

When the bullets began to fly about them, the woman shed tears, and her little girl of nine said to her, "Don't cry, mother, Jesus will help you," and then the child began praying as the wounded men still urged the boat along.

This the mother told me, but I had previously heard it from on officer who was on the gunboat that picked them up,--a big, rough man, whose voice fairly broke as he described their appearance.

He said that the mother and child had been hid for nine months in the woods before attempting their escape, and the child would speak to no one,--indeed, she hardly would when she came to our camp.
She was almost white, and this officer wished to adopt her, but the mother said, "I would do anything but that for _oonah_," this being a sort of Indian formation of the second-person-plural, such as they sometimes use.

This same officer afterwards saw a reward offered for this family in a Savannah paper.
I used to think that I should not care to read "Uncle Tom's Cabin" hi our camp; it would have seemed tame.