He passed the pickets, and
when he found my uncle he laid there on the ground in my uncle's arms
and cried like a baby. My uncle was old but he cried too and after a
while he told the boy that he must go back--he was 'fraid that the
pickets would see him and he would be shot, so he went with him,
crawling on all fours just like a pig, till he got him past the pickets,
and our young master never saw my uncle any more. Oh, honey, them was
heart-breakin' times. The first night we was in camp, my mammy got to
thinking about Mother Hulsie and how she was left all alone with all the
work, and not a soul to help her. The blue coats had gone through the
house and upset everything, so in the morning she asked the captain if
she could ask just one thing of him, and that was that she and my uncle
go back to Mother Hulsie just for the day, and help put everything away
and do the washing. The captain said they could go, but they must be
back by five o'clock, and not one nigger child could go along, so they
went back for the day and mammy did all the washing, every rag that she
could find, and my uncle chopped and stacked outside the house, all the
wood that he could chop that day, and then they came back to camp. My
mammy said she'd never forget Mother Hulsie wringing her hands and
crying, 'Oh Lawd, what will I do?' as they went down the land.
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