of his enterprise was by no means at an end.

The gloom of evening lay on the stream when he once more trusted
himself to its swift current, which quickly brought him among the craft
of the enemy below the city. Avoiding their picket-boats on both sides
of the river, he floated near the gunboats as safer, passing so near one
of them that through an open port-hole he could see a group of men
playing cards and hear their conversation. He made a landing at length
at Diamond Place, bidding adieu to his faithful dug-out and gladly
setting foot on land again.

Hobbling with the aid of his crutch through the bottom-lands, the scout
soon reached higher ground, and here made his way to the house of an
acquaintance, hoping to find a mount. But all the useful horses and
mules on the place had been confiscated by the foe, there remaining only
a worthless old gelding and a half-broken colt, of which he was offered
the choice. He took the colt, but found it to travel so badly that he
wished he had chosen the gelding.

In this dilemma fortune favored him, for in the bottom he came upon a
fine horse, tied by a blind bridle and without a saddle. A basket and an
old bag were lying close by, and he inferred from this that a negro had
left the horse and that a camp of the enemy was near at hand. Here was
an opportunity for confiscation of which he did not hesitate to avail
himself, and in all haste he exchanged bridles, saddled the horse,
turned loose the colt, mounted, and was off.

He took a course so as to avoid the supposed camp, but had not gone far
before he came face to face with a Federal soldier who was evidently
returning from a successful foray for plunder, for he was well laden
with chickens and carried a bucket of honey. He began questioning
Fontain with a curiosity that threatened unpleasant consequences, and
the alert scout ended the colloquy with a pistol bullet which struck the
plunderer squarely in the forehead. Leaving him stretched on the path,
with his poultry and honey beside him, Fontain made all haste from that
dangerous locality.

Reaching a settlement at a distance from the stream, he hired a guide to
lead him to Hankerson's Ferry, on the Big Black River, promising him
fifty dollars if he would take him there without following any road.
They proceeded till near the ferry, when Fontain sent his guide ahead to
learn if any of the enemy were in that vicinity. But there was something
about the manner and talk of