gon before we should see any cavalry.

When my wagon had reached the thickest of the woods, and about the spot,
as nearly as I could judge, where I had joined the other wagons on the
preceding night, I quietly slipped into the bushes on the left of
the road.

The light was sufficient for me to distinguish large objects at twenty
paces, but the woods were dense, and I knew that caution must be more
than ever my guide; now that I had information of great value, it would
not do to risk capture.

For some time I crept through the woods on my hands and knees, intently
listening for the least sound which might convince me whether I was on
the right track. A feverish fear possessed me that I was yet in rear of
the Confederate pickets. The east was now clearly defined, so that my
course was easy to choose--a northeasterly course, which I knew was very
nearly the exact direction to the spot where I had left Jones.

At every yard of progress my fear subsided in proportion; every yard was
increasing my distance from Branch's encampment, and rendering
probability greater in my favour; I surely must be already in front of
any possible picket-line.

The light increased, and the woods became less dense After going a
hundred yards, I ceased to crawl. From behind one large tree I examined
the ground ahead, and darted quickly to another. Soon I saw before me a
fallen tree, and wondered if it might not conceal some vedette. Yet, if
it did, the sentinel should be on my side of the tree. I stood for a few
moments, intently searching it with my eyes. It was not more than
fifteen yards from me, and directly in my course. At last, seeing
nothing, I sprang quickly and was just about to lie down behind it, when
a man rose from its other side. I did not lie down. He looked at me; I
looked at him. He was unarmed. We were about eight feet apart. He began
to recoil. There was light sufficient to enable me to tell from his
dress that he was a rebel. Of course he would think me a Confederate. I
stepped over the log.

"What are you doing here, sir?" I demanded, in a stern voice; "why are
you not with your regiment?"

He said nothing to this. He was abashed. His eyes sought the ground.

"Why don't you answer me, sir?" I asked.

He replied timidly, "I am not doing any harm."

"What do you mean by being here at all?"

"I got lost in the woods last night," he said, "and went to sleep here,
waiting for day."

"Then get back to your company at