He left me to consult with Captain Underdown, saying that if he agreed, he should go. He came back, however, admitting that Underdown had protested, saying he must keep quiet and wait for Sambo to come and deliver us to our friends. In a few minutes more we heard mounted men near us, urging their horses over limb and bush and finally came to a halt. Then a voice could be heard in a sort of a prolonged: "O-o-o-o-o-o-o! O-ho-o-o-o-o-o!" Then one of the mounted men said: "Halloo again, they will hear you next time." Then the voice again resounded, this time as follows: "O-ho-o-o-o! you five men dat am hid in dat ar brush dare. Why don't you come out? Here am friends; dey have come to protect you." That voice was familiar, and with a great sigh of relief we came out. There was Sambo with a broad grin on his phiz, and, with him were four of our own men, all mounted on mules. Well, no words of mine can describe the emotion that was exhibited at this sight. We were too overjoyed to express our feelings in words just then. Near by was a squad of Sherman's bummers in command of a lieutenant, whose name I cannot now recall. We gave him our names, rank and regiments, then all went back to Master Gwyn's plantation, where we found a span of mules hitched to a light carry-all. Sambo did not forget the "resurrection," so, after dividing the groceries, hams and flour with Master Gwyn, he packed a good share in the wagon with his family and drove off. We all went to the railroad, where the bluecoats were engaged in tearing up the track, heating the rails and twisting them into knots. We went directly to the headquarters of the Thirty-second Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, in command of Colonel De Grotte, with whom both Lieutenant Morgan and Captain Ewen were acquainted, and, under the grand old flag of that regiment, we were again breathing the free air of heaven, on soil protected by the Stars and Stripes, and after an imprisonment of sixteen months in the bastiles of a traitorous and revengeful enemy. What a change! We could scarcely realize it. I looked at Old Glory, as she swung to the breeze, and I remembered our feeble attempt to celebrate the Fourth of July on that fateful day when we were charged by the rebel guard and told that we would all be blown to kingdom come if we did not desist at once. How grand that little flag looked then! Now, I could gaze upon the banner of the free, as she waved in the breeze, knowing that this time its full meaning was a reality. Tears ran down my emaciated cheeks, my tongue was paralyzed and my poor weak limbs could scarcely support my body. My mind, so long inured to the hardships of confinement, seemed to be giving away and to be scarcely strong enough to endure the realization of such a sudden and happy change. But, God be praised! we were no longer under the surveillance of those who were trying to destroy the significance of Old Glory, and we felt that time and good food would soon restore us to our normal