Finally my guard halted in a dense thicket, and told me in a low tone to dismount and hitch my horse, while he did the same. Then he once more cocked his piece, and at the sound at least a score of gun-locks, in the hands of men all round us, but concealed in the darkness, were cocked and the triggers pulled, as I have described in the case of meeting the first sentinel. It was still as death when we halted, but I now heard horses which were hitched about us, so that I knew the whole party came there mounted. They began to come around us too, moving slowly, and as silently as possible, each man having his gun, and a handkerchief or something of the kind over his face. The man who brought me there spoke to several of the dimly-seen figures, but so low I could not hear. Then one stepped toward me, leaving the others standing in a circle about us. This was the captain of the band, and he at once proceeded to my initiation, not a word being spoken by any one but him, and the whole formula being of course repeated from memory, for the place was dark as night could make it. The following was the form, not half of which I could have remembered from hearing it at that time, but which has since become familiar by attendance at the initiations of others: CAPTAIN.--(Addressing me, the candidate for initiation.) "When a noble people are crushed by the servile minions of a tyrant, will they submit tamely and basely?" CANDIDATE.--"No." CAPTAIN.--"When a noble cause is lost in the field, when its spotless banners are trailed in the dust by the base hordes of the oppressor, when appeal to the God of Battles is no longer possible, should the friends of that cause fold their arms in abject submission?" CANDIDATE.--"No." CAPTAIN.--"When the homes of a noble people are devastated by fire and pillage, when their women are violated by a brutal soldiery, should that people mete out the same to the destroyers?" CANDIDATE.--"Yes." CAPTAIN.--"When a brave people are trampled in the dust by tyrants, what is their remedy?" [The whole band answer this by cocking their pieces and snapping the hammers, and the Captain then interprets as follows:] "Silence, Darkness, and Cold Lead! Do you agree?" CANDIDATE.--"Yes!" CAPTAIN.--"To be of us and not with us, is Treason, and the reward of Treason is DEATH! Every Southron belongs to us, by birth, by education, by the love of liberty inhaled with the balmy breezes of the sunny South, by the hatred of the northern clans imbibed with his mother's milk, by the inherent detestation of hypocrisy and the myriad social and political abominations of the North! You are of us, you must be with us! THE REWARD OF TREASON IS DEATH! You are prepared to take the oath." [The Captain here recites the following oath, the candidate repeating it after him:]