and when little Tommy went forward to call the men

The tide had just turned, and little Tommy, who had rolled himself up in a blanket and laid down close to the captain, suddenly arose. "Captain, did you hear that?" said he. "Hark! there it is again," said the captain. "Go and call the men,--we must get under weigh." It was a rustling noise among the brakes; and when little Tommy went forward to call the men, two balls came whistling over the quarter, and then a loud rustling noise indicated that persons were retreating. The captain retired to the cabin and took Tommy with him, giving orders to the negro pilot to stand to the deck, get her anchor up, and let her drift up stream with the tide, determined that if they shot any person, it should be the negroes, for whose value they would be held answerable. Thus she drifted up the stream, and the next morning was at the creek at Colonel Whaley's plantation. A number of ragged negroes came down to the bank in high glee at the arrival, and making sundry inquiries about corn and bacon. One old patriarchal subject cried out to the pilot, "Ah, Cesar, I 'now'd ye wah cumin'. Massa, an' young Massa Aleck, bin promis' bacon mor' den week, gess he cum' now." "Got sum corn, but ven ye gets bacon out o' dis craf' ye kotch wesel, dat a'n't got no hair on 'im," said Cesar. The scene around was any thing but promising-disappointing to the captain's exalted ideas of Colonel Whaley's magnificent plantation. The old farm-house was a barrack-like building, dilapidated, and showing no signs of having lately furnished a job for the painter, and standing in an arena surrounded by an enclosure of rough slats. Close examination disclosed fragments of gardening in the arena, but they showed the unmistakable evidences of carelessness. At a short distance from this was a cluster of dirty-looking negro-huts, raised a few feet from the ground on palmetto piles, and strung along from them to the brink of the river were numerous half-starved cattle and hogs, the latter rooting up the sod.