“If we can only reach the pines we shall be all right.  There the ground will be dry and soft and you can get some rest.  I’m afraid, my boy, it will go hard with you if you don’t.”

“I don’t mind what happens if we can only come up with Jack.  There, do you hear that?”

Yes, both could plainly hear voices ahead of them on the margin of the pond.  They were talking in low tones, and the words were undistinguishable.

“We must crawl back toward the bush, and get as near those folks as we can,” Jones whispered.  They made their way easily into the high bushes and stole forward in the direction of the voices.  But as they had to guard against breaking twigs or hurtling branches, which would have betrayed them, their advance was slow.  When they reached the vicinity where they had fancied the voices to be, all was silent.

“Sound the call; perhaps that will lead to something,” Jones whispered in Dick’s ear.

But, unnerved by the trying experience of the night, or worn out by fatigue, Dick’s call was far from the significant signal he had practiced with Jack.  He repeated it several times, but there was no response.  There was, however, something more startling.  A few rods beyond them a flame suddenly shot up, lighting a group of cavalry patrols standing beside a fire just kindled.

“Rebels!” Jones whispered.  “Now we must be slippery as snakes.  If they have no dogs, we are all right.  If you hear the whimper of a hound, follow me like lightning and plunge into the water.  That’ll break the trail.  Stay here and let me reconnoitre a bit.  Have no fear.  I’ll go in no danger.”

Jones crept away, leaving Dick by no means easy in his mind, but he no longer felt the terror that numbed him in the deep wood.  Here there was companionship.  By pushing the branches aside he could see the figures lounging about the fire; he could see the dark vault of the sky, and was not oppressed by the hideous shapes and shadows of the dense jungle.  Jones meanwhile had pushed within earshot of the group.  He flattened his body against a friendly pine and listened.

“I reckon they ain’t the Westover niggers, for they were traced to the Pamunkey; these rascals are most likely from the south side—­”

“If Jim gets here with the dogs in an hour, we can be back to the barracks for breakfast.”

“Ef it hadn’t been for that blamed fire in the swamp, we should have had them before this.  The rascal that fired at Tom wasn’t a musket-shot from me when the smoke poured out and hid him.”

“They’ve gone into the swamp.  The dogs’ll soon tree them.  I’m going to turn in till the dogs come.  One of you stay awake and keep a sharp eye toward the creek.”

“All right, sergeant.  You won’t have more’n a cat-nap.  Bilcox’s dogs are over at the ford, I know, for they were brought there’s soon as the news of the Yankee escape came.”

“I hope they are; but I’m afraid they are not.  If they are, we shall soon hear them.”