No one said a word about the mission upon which they were to embark, leaving the planter to do all the talking when he came. General and Dummy were the biggest of the six men who had been selected; but the other four were stalwart fellows. Their names were rather odd, the family thought when they first heard them; but not one of them bore the one his mother had given him in his babyhood, for the colonel had rechristened the whole of them on the plantation to suit his own fancy. Some circumstance, or something in their appearance, had doubtless suggested the names; but after they were given they clung to their owners as though they had been recorded in a church. The General was a quick-witted fellow, which inclined him to take the lead when anything was to be done. Woolly had a tremendous mop of hair on his head. Dummy was a preacher in the shanty which served as a church at the Big Bend; and perhaps because he was always studying his sermons, he never spoke a word unless the occasion required it; but Levi, who had heard him preach, said he could talk fast enough in his pulpit, and delivered a more sensible sermon than some white clergymen to whom he had listened. Rosebud, like the overseer, always had a smile on his face, and could hardly do or say anything without laughing. Mose did not swear profanely, but "by Moses;" and everything was as true, as high, as big, as handsome, as "Moses in de bulrushes." "Faraway" had been a pet word with the one to whom the planter had given this name. They were all reliable servants, and were devoted to their past and present masters. No king, prince, or potentate had ever been as big a man in their estimation as the colonel; and they had transferred this homage to the "major," as they were inclined to call Mr. Lyon after they heard the overseer use this title. Levi placed the men in the boat, each with his oar, and then headed it up the creek. The boys took their places in the stern-sheets, and the overseer handled the tiller lines. These arrangements were no sooner completed than the planter appeared, and took his place with the boys. The rowers were sitting with the oars upright; for the General, who was the stroke oarsman, had learned either from pictures in the illustrated papers their former master used to give the hands when he had done with them, or from some person more experienced than himself, some of the forms used in boating. "Drop your oars!" said Levi, and they all fell into the water together. "Ought to say 'let fall,' Mars'r Levi," added General. "No talk, General. Now gather up, and pull away!" continued Levi. General would have given him the proper form, "Give way!" but Levi was not in the humor to be instructed, and the rower said no more. The men pulled their oars with a will, and the implements bent under their vigorous stroke. The planter had run all the way from the mansion, and was out of breath, so he was silent for a time. CHAPTER XIII AT THE HEAD WATERS OF BAR CREEK