Saturday night the journey was resumed as usual. It was my turn to act
the part of picket and pilot. While rapidly leading the way through a
forest of low pines, I suddenly found myself in the presence of a
cavalry reserve. The men were warming themselves by a blazing fire, and
their horses were tied to trees around them. I was surprised and
alarmed; but recovering my self-possession, I remained motionless, and
soon perceived that my presence was unobserved. Carefully putting one
foot behind the other I retreated out of sight, and rapidly returned to
my party. Knowing that there were videttes sitting somewhere at the
front in the dark, we concluded to go back about two miles to a
plantation, and call at one of the outermost negro houses for
information. We returned, and I volunteered to make the call while the
others remained concealed at a distance.

I approached the door and rapped, and a woman's voice from within asked,
"who was there?" I replied, that "I was a traveler and had lost my way,
and wished to obtain some information about the road." She directed me
to go to another house, but I declined to do so, and after some further
conversation the door was opened, and I was surprised to find a large,
good-looking negro standing by her side, who had been listening to the
interview. He invited me to come in, and as soon as the door was closed,
he said: "I know who you are; you're one of dem 'scaped officers from
Richmond." Looking him full in the face, I placed my hand firmly upon
his shoulder, and said: "I am, and I know you are my friend." His eyes
sparkled as he repeated: "Yes, sir; yes, sir; but you musn't stay here;
a reg'ment of cavalry is right thar'," pointing to a place near by,
"and they pass this road all times of the night." The woman gave me a
piece of corn-bread and a cup of milk, and the man accompanying me, I
left the house, and soon finding my companions, our guide took us to a
secluded spot in a canebrake, and there explained the situation of the
picket in front. It was posted on a narrow neck of land between two
impassable swamps, and over this neck ran the main road to Williamsburg.
The negro proved to be a sharp, shrewd fellow, and we engaged him to
pilot us round this picket. After impressing us in his strongest
language with the danger both to him and to us of making the least
noise, he conducted us through a long canebrake path, then through
several fields, then directly over the road, crossing