forward.  Our hearts were in our throats, and in the terrible excitement we wondered if it could be possible for Providence to so arrange it that the dogs would pass us.  This last thought, by some strange fancy, had taken possession of me, and I here frankly acknowledge that I believed it would happen.  Why I believed it, God only knows.  My excitement was so great, indeed, that I almost lost sight of our danger, and felt like shouting to the dogs myself, while I came near losing my hold on the tree in which I was hidden.  By chance I happened to look around at my nearest neighbor in distress.  His expression was sufficient to quell any enthusiasm I might have had, and I, too, became despondent.  In a very few minutes our suspense was over.  The dogs came within not less than three hundred yards of us, and we could even see one of them, God in Heaven can only imagine what great joy was then, brought to our aching hearts, for almost instantly upon coming into sight, the hounds struck off on a different trail, and passed us.  Their voices became fainter and fainter, until finally we could hear them no longer.  About noon, however, they were called back and taken to camp, but until that time not one of us left our position in the trees.

When we were satisfied that we were safe for the present, we descended to the ground to get what rest we could, in order to be prepared for the night’s march, having previously agreed to travel at night and sleep in the day time.  “Our Father, who art in Heaven,” etc., were the first words that escaped my lips, and the first thoughts that came to my mind as I landed on terra firma.  Never before, or since, had I experienced such a profound reverence for Almighty God, for I firmly believe that only through some mighty invisible power were we at that time delivered from untold tortures.  Had we been found, we might have been torn and mutilated by the dogs, or, taken back to Andersonville, have suffered for days or perhaps weeks in the stocks or chain gang, as the humor of Wirz might have dictated at the time—­either of which would have been almost certain death.

It was very fortunate for us that before our escape from Andersonville we were detailed at the cook-house, for by this means we were enabled to bring away enough food to live for several days without the necessity of theft.  Each one of us had our haversacks full of such small delicacies as it was possible for us to get when we started, these consisting of corn bread and fat bacon—­nothing less, nothing more.  Yet we managed to subsist comfortably until our fourth day out, when we happened to come upon a sweet potato patch, the potatos in which had not been dug.  In a very short space of time we were all well supplied with this article, and lived on them raw during that day and the next night.