at the fence, the path
connected with, a narrow plantation road which I knew, from the ruts,
wagons had used. I went to the right, no longer dismounted, and going at
a fast trot. My road was running in a northeast course, but soon the
corner of the field was reached, and then it branched, one branch going
to the north, the other continuing northeast Which should I take? I
could not hesitate; I rode north, and kept on pursuing this narrow road
for nearly a mile, I supposed. Where I was I did not know, but I felt
sure that I was flanking the rebels who had stopped the black horse. I
considered the plan of trying now to get back into the main road again,
but rejected the thought, for no doubt Johnston's army was stretched
along this road for many miles; no doubt it was only the rear-guard
picket that had turned back my unknown friend who had preceded me. I
would keep on, and I did keep on, getting almost lost sometimes, passing
farms and woods and streams, forsaking one path for a worse one, if the
latter favoured my course, until at last, after great anxiety, and
fatigue of body and mind, I reached a wide road running northwest. I had
come, I supposed, four or five miles from the stile.

Now I no longer feared the rebel army. That was at my left in the road
to Richmond. This road I was on led up the York. The map was worthless
now. Of course, I might run foul of scouts and flying parties; those
people I must watch for.

I supposed it was one o'clock, and that I yet had fifteen miles to go,
for I had made my route much longer than the main road; but I counted
that I had gained greatly, for I was in comparative safety, and had five
hours yet. The road ahead I knew nothing about, but it was running in
the correct course for Eltham's Landing high up on the river.

Soon I came to a fork. Which branch should I take? If I should take the
right, it was chance for chance that I should go straight off to the
York, and I wanted to go up the York; if I should take the left, it was
chance for chance that I should ride straight to the enemy on the
Richmond road.

I took the left. To go to the river meant almost the loss of hope
thereafter. I would go toward the enemy for a little distance, but would
take the first bridle-path to the right, some road or bridle-path
branching out of this, and running up the river. But my progress became
exceedingly slow, for I feared always to miss seeing some blind road
leading to the right, and my