. They looked his way several times,
but the sergeant was so much in harmony with the color scheme of the
earth on which he crept, that no blame lay upon them for not seeing him.

The sergeant was already hearing with his own ears. He heard these
pickets and others talking in low voices of the Northern army and of
their own. They knew that Buell's great force was approaching from
different points and that a battle was expected on the morrow. He knew
this already, but he wanted to know how much of the Confederate army lay
in Perryville, and he intended to see with his own eyes.

Having passed the first line of pickets the sergeant advanced more
rapidly, although he still kept well under cover. Advancing thus he
reached the bed of the creek and hid himself against the bank, allowing
his body to drop down in the water, in order that he might feel the
glorious cool thrill again, and also that he might be hidden to the
neck. His rifle and ammunition he laid at the edge of the bank within
reach. Situated thus comfortably, he used his excellent eyes with
excellent results. He could see Perryville on his left, and also a great
camp on some heights that ran along the creek. There were plenty of
lights in this camp, and, despite the lateness of the hour, officers
were passing about.

It was obvious to the sergeant that many thousands of soldiers were on
those heights, and now he wanted to hear again with his own ears. He did
not dare go any nearer, and the water in the creek was growing cold to
his body. But his patience was great, and still he waited, only his head
showing above the water, and it hidden in the black gloom of the bank's
shadows.

His reward came by-and-by. A number of cavalrymen led their horses down
to the creek to drink, and while the horses drank and then blew the
water away from their noses, the men talked at some length, enabling the
sergeant to pick up important scraps of information.

He learned that the heights were occupied by Hardee with two divisions.
It was the same Hardee, the famous tactician who had been one of the
Southern generals at Shiloh. Polk was expected, but he had not yet come
up. Bragg, too, would be there.

The brave sergeant's heart thumped as he listened. He gathered that
Polk, perhaps, could not arrive before noon, and here was a brilliant
chance to destroy a large part of the Southern army early in the
morning.

He waited until all the cavalrymen had gone away with their hors