But the most common fence was what Elijah called "bresh wattlin'." Stakes were first driven into the ground, then pine or cedar brush bent in between them and beaten down with a maul.
"Ye kin build a wattlin' fence that way so tight a rabbit can't git through."
On making inquiries, I found that farms of fine land could be had all through this region for ten dollars an acre.
Elijah hoped that men from the North would come in and settle.
"But," said he, "'twould be dangerous for any one to take possession of a confiscated farm. He wouldn't live a month."
The larger land-owners are now more willing to sell.
"Right smart o' their property was in niggers; they're pore now, and have to raise money.
"The emancipation of slavery," added Elijah, "is wo'kin' right for the country mo'e ways 'an one. The' a'n't two men in twenty, in middlin' sarcumstances, but that's beginnin' to see it. I'm no friend to the niggers, though. They ought all to be druv out of the country. They won't wo'k as long as they can steal. I have my little crap o' corn, and wheat, and po'k; when night comes, I must sleep; then the niggers come and steal all I've got."
I pressed him to give an instance of the negroes' stealing his property. He could not say that they had taken anything from him lately, but they "used to" rob his corn-fields and hen-roosts, and "they would again." Had he ever caught them at it? No, he could not say that he ever had. Then how did he know that the thieves were negroes? He knew it, because "niggers would steal."
"Won't white folks steal, too, sometimes?"
"Yes," said Elijah, "some o' the poo' whites are a durned sight wuss 'n the niggers!"
"Then why not drive them out of the country, too? You see," said I, "your charges against the negroes are vague, and amount to nothing."
"I own," he replied, "thar's now and then one that's ekal to any white man. Thar's one a-comin' thar."
A load of wood was approaching, drawn by two horses abreast and a mule for leader. A white-haired old negro was riding the mule.
"He's the greatest man!" said Elijah, after we had passed. "He's been the support of his master's family for twenty year and over. He kin manage a heap better 'n his master kin. The' a'n't a farmer in the country kin beat him. He keeps right on jest the same now he's free; though I suppose he gits wages."
"You acknowledge, then, that some of the negroes are superior men?"
"Yes, thar's about ten in a hundred honest and smart as anybody."
"That," said I, "is a good many. Do you suppose you could say more of the white race, if it had just come out of slavery?"
"I don't believe," said Elijah, "that ye could say as much!"
We passed the remains of the house "whar Harrow was shot." It had been burned to the ground.
"You've heerd about Harrow; he was Confederate commissary; he stole mo'e hosses f'om the people, and po'ed the money down his own throat, than would have paid fo' fo'ty men like him, if he was black."
A mile or two farther on, we came to another house.
"Hyer's whar the man lives that killed Harrow. He was in the army, and because he objected to some of Harrow's doin's, Harrow had him arrested, and treated him very much amiss. That ground into his conscience and feelin's, and he deserted fo' no other puppose than to shoot him. He's a mighty smart fellah! He'll strike a man side the head, and soon 's his fist leaves it, his foot's thar. He shot Harrow in that house you see burnt to the ground, and then went spang to Washington. Oh, he was sharp!"
On our return we met the slayer of Harrow riding home from Fredericksburg on a mule,—a fine-looking young
