"Jest so," asserted the patriarch. "I kin saddle my ole nag arter dinner, rack over an' do some tradin', an' rack back agin in time for supper. But 'when we have sich sorry weather as this, Shelbyville seems on t' other side o' nowhar. You've got t' pull through the mud an' swim every branch and crick, an' you're mouty lucky if you git thar in a week." "Why don't you build bridges over the creeks?" asked Si. "Can't do hit when hit's rainin' an they're runnin' over thar banks." "But why don't you do it when the weather's good?" "What's the use? You kin git over all right then." "Sir," said the Brigadier-General, riding up and addressing the old man, "where does the Shakerag road come into the Bellbuckle road?" Instantly the old man felt that he was being asked to give "aid and information to the enemy," and his old eyes grew hard and his wrinkled face set. "I don't know, sah." "Yes, you do," said the Brigadier-General impatiently, "and I want you to tell me." "I don't know, sah," repeated the old man. "Are there any works thrown up and any men out there on the Shakerag road?" asked the Brigadier. "I don't know, sah." "Did a large body of rebels go past your house yesterday, and which road did they take at the forks?" inquired the Brigadier. "I don't know, sah." The Brigadier-General was not in the best of humor, and he chafed visibly at the old man's answers. "Does not Goober Creek run down there about a mile in that direction?" he again inquired, pointing with his field-glasses. "I don't know, sah." "How long have you lived here?" asked the Brigadier savagely. "Nigh on to 55 year, sah." "And you don't know where Goober Creek is, and which way it runs?" asked the Brigadier, losing all patience. "No, sah," responded the imperturbable old man. "Well," said the Brigadier-General grimly, "it is high time that you discovered that interesting stream. You might die without seeing it. Men (to Si and Shorty) take him down that road about a mile, where you will find a considerable body of water which I'm given to understand is called Goober Creek. You'll show it to him in all its magnificence and beauty. Geography is a very interesting study, old man, and it is not too late for you to begin getting acquainted with your own country." The bitter humor of taking a man through the mud and pouring rain to see a creek that he had seen nearly every day of his life for a half-century was such that all the men were in a mood to appreciate. Si and Shorty entered into the affair with zest. They put a blanket on the old man's shoulders, to shelter him from the rain. Such a thing as an umbrella had never been in his house. Even the women would have looked upon it as a piece of luxurious effeminacy.