The next morning the rebel army continued to pass along the road and kept it up during the day. We could plainly hear the tramp and talk of the passing column, but kept ourselves carefully concealed. When night came the campers were few in number, and we started our foraging party out again. When they arrived at Master Gwyn's they found that old Sambo had returned. He said that they took him with the rest to Winsboro to work on the fortifications, and, while they were detained in an old warehouse over night, he managed to crawl up through the chimney, out on the roof, then down to another roof, and finally to the ground, after which he took the long walk home and "was mighty tired." Master Gwyn told him he was very glad to see him back, as he needed him, that he had always been a faithful servant and he wanted to keep him as long as he lived. I will try to give the rest of Sambo's story in his own language. He said: "Massa telled me dat de Yankee awmy would soon be heah and dat I must take de boys dat am left down in de field and dig some holes in de groun', and dat we mus' bury all de hams and de bacon and de flowah and de groceries and covah dem ovah wid de dirt fust, den wid old dirty straw, den when dey got heah I mus' take de mules and de boys down in de old sage field, wheah de brush is mighty thick down dare. Now, I tells ye, gemmen, when Captain Sherman gets here dese yer niggahs and his boys and dem mules will come out of dem brush; and next dem hams and dat bacon and dat flowah will come out of dat groun' and I tell ye, gemmen, dere will be a great resurwection heah on dat day, ho! ho! ho! ho! haw! haw! haw! haw!" and the poor old slave laughed until the tears streamed down his black cheeks at the thought of this wonderful scheme to outwit his master. They then gave Sambo a few instructions which were to the effect that, as soon as our army arrived and he could see the Stars and Stripes, he must fetch some of the Union soldiers over to where we were; that he would find us secreted near the middle of the slashing, under the big piles of brush. They then bade Sambo good-night and returned to us. It was now the evening of the twentieth. We could see Sherman's campfires and hear the beat of the drums for retreat, as well as the taps. The rebs were few in number, but on the alert. Morning came and found us still under the brush piles, but everything outside was amazingly quiet; after an hour or so we could hear a heavy rumbling noise in the air, which became more and more distinguishable, until finally we could hear the talking of a moving army. Morgan crawled close to me, put his mouth to my ear and said: "Prutsman, we are inside of the Union lines, you can't fool me on that dialect." After listening another moment he said: "I am going out there to see." My reply was: "I object; if you cross that flat and it is not our army we will all be sold within two miles of the Stars and Stripes."