uted an officer, starting to run after her; "the
Johnnies are out there!"

She turned in her saddle and nodded reassuringly, then spurred on again,
expecting to jump the Union advance-guard every moment.

There seemed to be no firing anywhere in the vicinity; nothing to be
seen but dusky pine woods; and after she had advanced almost to the edge
of a little clearing, and not encountering the outer line of Union
pickets, she drew bridle and sat stock still in her saddle, searching in
every direction with alert eyes.

Nothing moved; the heated scent of the Southern pines hung heavy in the
forest; in the long, dry swale-grass of the clearing, yellow butterflies
were flying lazily; on a dead branch above her a huge woodpecker, with
pointed, silky cap, uttered a querulous cry from moment to moment.

She strained her dainty, close-set ears; no sound of man stirred in this
wilderness--only the lonely bird-cry from above; only the ceaseless
monotone of the pine crests stirred by some high breeze unfelt below.

A forest path, apparently leading west, attracted her attention; into
this she steered her horse and continued, even after her compass had
warned her that the path was now running directly south.

The tree-growth was younger here; thickets of laurel and holly grew in
the undergrowth, and, attempting a short cut out, she became entangled.
For a few minutes her horse, stung by the holly, thrashed and floundered
about in the maze of tough stems; and when at last she got him free, she
was on the edge of another clearing--a burned one, lying like a path of
black velvet in the sun. A cabin stood at the farther edge.

Three forest bridle paths ran west, east, and south from this blackened
clearing. She unbuttoned her waist, drew out a map, and, flattening it
on her pommel, bent above it in eager silence. And, as she sat studying
her map, she became aware of a tremor in the solid earth under her horse's
feet. It grew to a dull jarring vibration--nearer--nearer--nearer--and
she hastily backed her horse into the depths of the laurel, sprang to
the ground, and placed both gauntleted hands over her horse's nostrils.

A moment later the Confederate cavalry swept through the clearing at a
trot--a jaunty, gray column, riding two abreast, then falling into
single file as they entered the bridle path at a canter.

She watched them as they flashed by among the pines, sitting their
horses beautifully, the wind lifting the broad brims