I was on the way to the sea-board instead of Columbia. In my perplexity, I resolved to try to get information concerning the country I was in, by placing myself in some obscure place in the side of the road, and listening to the conversation of travelers as they passed me. For this purpose I chose the corner of a cotton field, around which the road turned, and led along the fence for some distance. Passing the day in the woods among the pine-trees, I came to this corner in the evening, and lying down within the field, waited patiently the coming of travelers, that I might hear their conversation, and endeavor to learn from that which they said, the name at least of some place in this neighborhood. On the first, and second evenings that I lay here, I gleaned nothing from the passengers that I thought could be of service to me; but on the third night, about ten o'clock, several wagons drawn by mules passed me, and I heard one of the drivers call to another and tell him that it was sixty miles to Charleston; and that they should be able to reach the river to-morrow. I could not at first imagine what river this could be; but another of the wagoners inquired how far it was to the Edisto, to which it was replied by some one that it was near thirty miles. I now perceived that I had mistaken my course, and was as completely lost as a wild goose in cloudy weather.
