The dawn of another day comes in the life of the slave. Now all must help kill the "fatted hogs." The knives have been sharpened, the scaffolds built, the ashes brought up from the ash-heap. The slaves are gathered around the fire, warming themselves and waiting for the water in the big black pots to boil. They hear the shrill voice of the cock and the noise of the mules heralding the coming of day, when the presence of old master will stop their friendly discussions. While fading stars twinkle in the pines that cast ghost-like shadows upon the white-washed cabins, the slaves talk of their religious experiences, how they "overcame the devil in the wilderness" through the help of Christ. The stars were shining thus a year ago, when Aunt Lucinda died. She had been a good woman, never receiving a flogging. She used to make cakes for the neighbors and tell them when to plant their crops. When she died a bright star, like an angel, lit upon the cabin-roof, to take her soul away. This morning she is in heaven, wearing golden slippers, long, white robe, and starry crown, about which she used to sing in the camp-meetings. The big hogs killed and put into the "smoke-house" and the coming of night ending the slave's work, he is now allowed to attend the camp-meeting, in the log-house, down by the side of the river, that lies behind the big woods. In the leaves of the old red oak, that stands upon the shore and that is said to be the place of ghosts, he hears the noise of the wood owl, calling to him, as he takes his boat and glides silently away amid the solemn shadows that lie upon the deep, moon-lit waters. Unconsciously he sings the words of his comrades as they marched last night to the grave-yard: "I know moon-rise; I know star-rise; Lay dis body down I march to the grave-yard, I march through the grave-yard Lay dis body down I lay in de grave-yard and stretch out my arms, Lay, dis body down." At the meeting-house, not only does he sing and shout, but each slave for some sinner-friend or relative who has been sold away, sincerely asks the prayers of the other. There parent prays for child and child for parent. "Sister Martha," dressed in gingham, is there, that gray-haired woman, who goes each day to the river, hoping that some message may come floating from her "Tom." She is there to weep and to rejoice and to talk with "Brother Robert" about the cross of Christ. The slaves, singing and shouting, tearfully kiss each other's cheek, shake hands, and part. They were there to worship and not to play.