“Who asked you to?” asked Jack. “I’m going to trap him like they do tigers and lions.” “I don’ know nuttin’ ’bout dem beas’es,” said Jake, disdainfully. “No, you don’t,” said Jack, with fine scorn; “but I do.” He examined the banks carefully. His first idea was a pitfall trap--a covering over the hole. But that would not do; it might kill the horse, or at least break a leg. His eye fell on the tracks up to the water. His face lit up. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it! We’ll bait him, and then catch him. Where are the axe and corn you had?” He turned to Jake. His mind up to that time had been so busy with, first, the flight, and then the horse, that he had not noticed that Jake did not have them. Jake’s countenance fell. “I done los’ ’em,” he said, guiltily. Jack looked thunderstruck. “Now you just go and find ’em,” he said, hotly. “I los’ ’em when dem Yankees shoot we all. I know I ain’ gwine back deah,” declared Jake, positively. “I ain’ gwine have no Yankee shootin’ me ’bout a old hoss.” “Yes, you are,” asserted Jack. “I’m going, and you’ve got to go, too.” Jake remained impassive. “Never mind, if you don’t go I won’t play with you any more, and I won’t give you half my biscuit any more.” These were usually potent threats, but they failed now. “I don’ keer ef you don’ play wid me,” said Jake, scornfully. “I don’ want play so much nohow; an’ I don’ want none you’ buscuit. Dee ain’ white like dee use’ to be.” Jack changed his key. “Never mind, that was Aunt Winnie’s axe you lost. I’m going to tell her you lost it, and she’ll cut you all to pieces. I’m mighty glad I didn’t lose it.” This was a view of the case which Jake had not thought of. It was true. The Yankees might not hit him, but if her axe were lost, his mammy was certain to carry out her accustomed threat of cutting him almost in two. Jake announced that he would go, but first stipulated for the biggest half of the next biscuit, and that Jack should go before. They set off back through the woods toward the opening where they had run on the picket, Jack in the lead, and Jake a little behind. They had gone about a half mile, when they heard the sound of some one coming toward them at a rapid rate. “Run, Jack; heah dey come,” cried Jake, setting the example, and taking to his heels, with Jack behind him. They ran, but were evidently being overtaken, for whoever it was was galloping right after them as hard as he could tear. “Hide in the bushes,” cried Jack, and flung himself flat on the ground under a thick bush. Jake did the same. They were just in time, for the pursuers were almost on them. Closer and closer they came, galloping as hard as they could, crashing through the branches. They must have seen them, for they came straight down on them. Jake began to cry, and Jack was trembling, for he felt sure they would be killed; there must be a hundred of them. But no, they actually passed by. Jack found courage to take a peep. He gave a cry, and sprang to his feet.