_Evening._--Better still was a scene on which I stumbled to-night. Strolling in the cool moonlight, I was attracted by a brilliant light beneath the trees, and cautiously approached it. A circle of thirty or forty soldiers sat around a roaring fire, while one old uncle, Cato by name, was narrating an interminable tale, to the insatiable delight of his audience. I came up into the dusky background, perceived only by a few, and he still continued. It was a narrative, dramatized to the last degree, of his adventures in escaping from his master to the Union vessels; and even I, who have heard the stories of Harriet Tubman, and such wonderful slave-comedians, never witnessed such a piece of acting. When I came upon the scene, he had just come unexpectedly upon a plantation-house, and, putting a bold face upon it, had walked up to the door. "Den I go up to de white man, very humble, and say, would he please gib ole man a mouthful for eat? "He say, he must hab de valeration of half a dollar. "Den I look berry sorry, and turn for go away. "Den he say, I might gib him dat hatchet I had. "Den I say," (this in a tragic vein,) "dat I must hab dat hatchet for defend myself _from de dogs_!" [Immense applause, and one appreciating auditor says, chuckling, "Dat was your _arms_, ole man," which brings down the house again.] "Den he say, de Yankee pickets was near by, and I must be very keerful. "Den I say, 'Good Lord, Mas'r, am dey?'" Words cannot express the complete dissimulation with which these accents of terror were uttered,--this being precisely the piece of information he wished to obtain. Then he narrated his devices to get into the house at night and obtain some food,--how a dog flew at him,--how the whole household, black and white, rose in pursuit,--how he scrambled under a hedge and over a high fence, etc.,--all in a style of which Gough alone among orators can give the faintest impression, so thoroughly dramatized was every syllable. Then he described his reaching the river-side at last, and trying to decide whether certain vessels held friends or foes. "Den I see guns on board, and sure sartin he Union boat, and I pop my head up. Den I been-a-tink [think] Seceshkey hab guns too, and my head go down again. Den I bide in de bush till morning. Den I open my bundle, and take ole white shirt and tie him on ole pole and wave him, and ebry time de wind blow, I been-a-tremble, and drap down in de bushes,"--because, being between two fires, he doubted whether friend or foe would see his signal first. And so on, with a succession of tricks beyond Moliere, of acts of caution, foresight, patient cunning, which were listened to with infinite gusto and perfect comprehension by every listener.