Brave as he might be, he saw no good in allowing himself to be butchered by those infuriated men, and resolved to keep out of their way.

He kept his horse picketed on the grass near where he was at work, with saddle and bridle close by.

One day as I was helping him drop sod corn on uncle's claim--two miles from our own--while uncle worked at his new cabin, we saw some horsemen coming over the hill.
"They are South Carolinians," said father, and saddling his horse, he rode in the opposite direction.

In the afternoon he came back, saying that they had followed him all day, and he had circled here and there over the hills, and he had happened to meet two of them, one at a time, and recognized them as some of the men who had mobbed him; and they knew him too, but they had not dared to attack him single-handed.
He thought they were trying to get together, to attack him the next time they saw him.-He wanted uncle to change coats and hats with him, so that, if they saw him in the distance, they would not know him.

He wore a black coat and hat, and uncle wore a white palmleaf hat, and had with him, in case of rain, an old-fashioned, light gray overcoat.
These father put on, and throwing a white cloth over his horse, rode away, telling us that he would not be at home that night, and that we need not look for him until we saw him.