That is the absolute truth, but is not all.
When night came the chickens went back to their boxes to roost--all
but the small ones. Those were left outside with their mothers, and
just before daylight Charlie raised a great commotion when he put them
up for the day's trip.
When we were about ready to start in the morning, a man came over from
the house and told Faye that he would pilot us through the rest of the
water, that it was very dangerous in places, where the road had been
built up, and if a narrow route was not carefully followed, a team
would go down a bank of four or five feet. He had with him just the
skeleton of a wagon--the four wheels with two or three long boards on
top, drawn by two horses. So we went down in the dirty water again,
that seemed to get deeper and deeper as we splashed on.
Now and then I could catch a glimpse of our pilot standing up on the
boards very much like a circus rider, for the wagon wheels were
twisting around over the roots of trees and stones, in a way that
required careful balancing on his part. We got along very well until
about noon, when a soldier came splashing up on a mule and told Faye
that one of the wagons had turned over! That was dreadful news and
made me most anxious about the trunks and chests, and the poor
chickens, too, all of which might be down under the water.
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