"You're too noisy, Dennis."

"What's the harm?" replied Dennis O'Hara as he stopped a moment and looked all about him. "There are no Johnnies around here."

"You don't know whether there are or not," retorted Noel Curtis sharply, as he too glanced in either direction along the dusty road over which the two young soldiers were tramping that September day in 1862. Both were clad in the uniform of the Union army, and the manner in which they carried their rifles gave evidence of the fact that both young soldiers were well known in the army of General McClellan for their skill as sharpshooters.

"'Tis nothing I'm afraid of now," said Dennis gleefully, as he shifted from one shoulder to the other the body of a small pig which he had secured in his foraging expedition with his companions.

The day was one to stir the souls of both young men, who were thoroughly wearied by the routine of the camp life at Harper's Ferry, where they had been stationed with about eight thousand other Union soldiers. There was a haze in the distance that covered the summits of the hills and even the waters of the near-by stream seemed to be subdued as they rushed on their way to join the Potomac.

"'Tis a fine day," exclaimed Dennis; and at once he began to sing,—

"What do you mean by 'S.B.'?" laughed Noel.

"Sometimes 'tis said to mean 'salt bacon,' and then again maybe 'tis 'salt beef,' and sometimes we call it 'soaked beans.' Whatever it is I have had my fill of it. Shure, Noel, me boy, it's you and I that will be feasting ourselves on some roast pork before to-morrow mornin'."

"Look at those pickaninnies!" exclaimed Noel, as he pointed to a little hut from which a stream of black-faced urchins appeared, who were rushing to join their companions in the road and watch the two approaching Union soldiers.

"Wait 'til I sing them a song, too," exclaimed Dennis; and once more he began to sing,—

In addition to the crowd of dusky-faced children several older negroes now joined the group to watch the passing Union soldiers. The boys in blue were still such a novelty to many of the slaves that their appearance usually served to summon speedily a band of the admiring dusky spectators.

Dennis, unfamiliar with the colored people and their ways, had never ceased to express his dislike of them. Many a time in the camp when the soldier boys had wanted to have a little sport they would call upon Dennis to "cuss the niggers," by which term they described Dennis's oratorical efforts. Standing upon the head of a barrel, or mounting some box near the quarters of the sutler, with his ready tongue Dennis promptly poured forth a steady stream of almost meaningless words that were supposed to be descriptive of his feeling of antipathy toward the people for whose liberty he was fighting.

In the company of negroes at this time assembled to watch the passing of the two young soldiers there was one woman, manifestly an old field-hand, whose size was so immense as to be impressive. The admiration with which the woman gazed upon Dennis was returned in the expression of astonishment with which the young Irish soldier stared at this huge negress.

"Shure, Noel," he exclaimed to his friend in a loud whisper, "'tis not an ounce liss than four hundred pounds she weighs."

Noel laughed and did not reply as he looked again at the strange woman. Her cheeks hung down almost to her shoulders, and her immense lower lip, which appeared to be nearly an inch in thickness, and her hair, which in appearance was not unlike the tail of a horse after the animal has been feeding in some field where cockles abound, increased the weird expression with which she beamed upon the approaching boys.

All of the negroes by this time were becoming more and more excited. Their eyes seemed almost to protrude from their faces. They soon began to sing and dance, and mingled with the strange noises were the wild and weird shouts they occasionally uttered. The huge negress was the wildest of all.

Neither of the approaching soldiers looked at the spectacle with any other thought than that of curiosity. To both of them up to the time of their enlistment a negro had been a rare sight. Since they had entered the army, of course they naturally had come frequently in contact with the dusky slaves. And the contrabands also on many occasions had flocked into the camps, confidently expecting to be sent North by their soldier friends.

Suddenly the huge negress abruptly started toward the young soldiers. Swinging her arms as she ran, she swiftly approached the boys, who had stopped abruptly when they first discovered her action.

"Bress de Lor'! Bress de Lor'! Yo's de ones we's been prayin' fo' dese fo' yeahs! Lor' bress ye, honey! I lub ye! I lub ye!" she added in her excitement, as she lunged toward Dennis, who was the particular object of her attack.

For a moment the startled young Irishman gazed in mingled disgust and fear at the huge negress, who was rapidly approaching. Then without a word of explanation Dennis O'Hara, who on the battle-field had been brave almost beyond the power of description, abruptly turned and fled from the excited negress. A wild shout from the assemblage followed his unexpected departure, and even Noel was compelled to laugh when he saw the huge woman start in swift and awkward pursuit of the fleeing soldier.

Unwilling to let go his hold upon the pig, which he had secured in his foraging, Dennis was greatly hampered in his flight. With long strides the black woman gained rapidly upon him. Once Dennis emitted a loud whoop of terror or warning, Noel was unable to decide which.

The excitement of the negroes became more marked as it was seen that the efforts of Dennis to escape were unavailing. Nearer and nearer came the excited black woman, and in a brief time she flung her great arms about Dennis, who was helpless to protect himself, as he still was unwilling to let go his hold upon his prize.

"Lor' bress ye, honey!" shouted the woman as she clasped the unwilling soldier in her arm. "Bress de Lor'! Bress de Lor'! We hab bin prayin' fo' yo' dese fo' yeahs! M—m—m—"

Her grasp evidently became more vigorous and her enthusiasm more marked as the plight of the helpless soldier became more manifest. The watching negroes, almost hilarious by this time, started toward the place where the exciting scene was being enacted.

What the outcome might be now began to trouble even Noel, who rapidly advanced to the side of his friend, and shouted to the approaching blacks, "Keep back! Keep back!"

The negroes, however, either were too excited or were unwilling at first to heed the request, and in a screaming, laughing, shouting mob they still pressed forward.

The negress, as has been said, apparently a field-hand, was possessed of great physical strength, and it was plain that Dennis was unable to protect or even release himself as long as he held to the body of the pig.

As Noel approached, Dennis shouted excitedly to him, "Take the porker, Noel, me boy! Take me gun, too! Help me out o' this!"

"Bress ye, honey! We hab bin waitin' fo' yeahs fo' yo' to come! We's been prayin' all de time and when I hear yo' singin' about 'Ole massa run, ha! ha!' and 'De darkies stay, ho! ho!' den I des know de kingdom was come shore 'nuff and de yeah of Jubilo was right yere!"

Too angry to respond, Dennis waited until Noel had relieved him of his gun and the pig, and then with one violent effort freed himself from the grasp of the excited black woman.

When she made as if she was about to approach him once more and renew her expression of delight over the coming of the boys in blue, Dennis suddenly seized the little pig that Noel was holding and swinging it with all his strength struck the woman with it upon the side of her face.

The effect of his effort, however, was plainly not more than to cause the huge mass of flesh to stop a moment, but not to abandon the efforts in which the negress was engaged. Again Dennis drew back the little pig and again struck at his tormentor. His second effort, however, like his first, was unable to check the fervor of the powerful woman. The remaining negroes now were almost upon the struggling pair. The fear in Noel's heart that some harm might come to Dennis or to himself became real.

"Stand back there!" he shouted. "Don't come any nearer!"

At his word the crowd halted and, quickly taking advantage of the interval, Noel said, "This woman says you have been praying for four years for us to come."

"Yas, suh! Yas, suh! We shore has! Dis yere is de Jubilo, shore 'nuff! Shore 'nuff! Ole massa goin' to run, and de darkies goin' to stay!"

"Do you know that song?" inquired Noel.

"We shore does! Yas, suh! Yas, suh! We knows it!"

"Then I want you to stand up by the side of the road and sing it while we march back to camp."

Laughingly the dusky crowd arranged themselves in lines along the roadside according to Noel's bidding. Even the huge negress, after some persuasion, reluctantly took her stand at the head of the line on the right.

"Now, then, everybody sing!" called Noel, after he had whispered to Dennis, "Take your gun and pig and start out of this, but don't try to be in too much of a hurry."

"All right," he called loudly, as he passed the negress. There was a laughing response and instantly Noel and Dennis, as they quickly advanced began to sing,—

Glancing neither to the right nor left the two soldiers steadily moved forward and in a brief time passed beyond the strange assembly on the roadside.

"Is she after me, lad?" whispered Dennis loudly, glancing anxiously behind him.

"I don't think so," replied Noel, "but I shan't look back just yet. I don't hear anybody coming and they are singing like mad back there yet."

"Just listen to them, will you!" he added as there came from the crowd an increased volume of sound, which was somewhat indicative of the excitement that possessed the assembly.

"I guess we 're all right now," Noel said a few minutes later when they had turned a bend in the road and their admirers no longer were to be seen.

"Now, Noel, me boy," said Dennis, "I want ye to promise me something."

"What's that?" inquired Noel quizzically, although he was confident that he understood what the request of his companion was to be.

"I want ye to promise me that ye'll kape what happened here a sacret. 'Tis just between you and me, me boy."

"Oh, but, Dennis," suggested Noel, "think what fun the boys in the camp will miss if we don't tell them what the black woman did."

"Shure, you won't tell on me!" Dennis pleaded as he stopped a moment and gazed anxiously at his companion.

"I shall have to think about that," replied Noel mockingly.

The expression of consternation that appeared for a moment on the face of his companion caused the young soldier to laugh heartily.

"Why don't you tell them about it yourself, Dennis?" he asked abruptly.

"Niver!" replied the young Irish soldier. "'Tis one of the sacrets I shall niver tell, not aven to me mither. But I want to feel that you will help me to kape the sacret."

"I'll agree not to tell it to-night," said Noel at last.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to be contint wid that, thin," responded Dennis. "But let me tell ye wan thing, Noel Curtis. If I find the story ever does lake out, I shall know where it came from and the fellow that tells on me will want to go to the surgeon to be put together. Indade an' he will that!"

"He won't if he gets that black woman here to help him," laughed Noel. "Now, how are you going to get that pig into the camp? You know what the colonel said about foraging, and what he told us would happen to the boy who tried it, after such strict orders had been given against it."

"Shure, and I'll give the colonel a piece o' the rib o' me pig. When he once swallows that he'll forget all about his orders."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Noel good-naturedly. "But here we are almost back to camp, and you'll have a chance to try it out in a little while."