run under the bed or hid in a closet or somewheres. They stayed 'round
here for a long time. Finally provender got low and the soldiers took to
stealing. We called it stealin', but I reckon it warn't for they come
and got the stuff like meat out o' the smoke house in broad open
daylight. Mr. Duvall had a chestnut earl stallion he called Drennon an'
they come, or somebody did, an' got him one night. One day, 'bout two or
three weeks later, Will Duvall, a son o' Mr. Sammy Duvall, heard that
the hawse was over in Henry County where the soldiers had a camp. So he
went over there and found the Captain an' told him he'd come after old
Drennon. The Captain said to describe him an' Will said, "Captain, he's
a chestnut earl named Drennon. If'n I whistl' a certain way he' nicker
an' answer me."

"Well, they went down to the stable where they had a lot of stalls like,
under tents. An' when they got there, Will, he whistled, an' sure
'nough, old Drennon nickered. So the Captain, he said, That's your hawse
all right. Go in an' get him an' take him on home.

Will brought the hawse home an' took him down in the woods on the creek
where the water'd washed all the dirt offen a big, flat rock and we kep
him hid for three or four weeks. We didn't want to loose him again.

When I was 'bout six years old we moved offen the creek to a new road up
on the ridge. It was on the same farm but to another house. I had a
great big, ole grey cat I called "Tom." I wanted to move him so I put
him in a pillow slip so's he couldn't see where we wus takin' him so he
couldn't fin' the way back. He stayed 'round his new home for a few days
an' then he went back to his ole home. Mr. Duvall went and got him again
for me. Not many white men would do that for a little nigger boy. He
musta told Tom somethin' for he never run off no more.