It is not a pleasant situation,—­on a prairie alone and at night, not knowing where you are going or where you ought to go.  Zimmermann himself never imagined a solitude more complete, albeit such a situation is not so favorable to philosophic meditation as the rapt Zimmermann might suppose.  I employ my thoughts as well as I am able, and pin my faith to the sagacity of Spitfire.  Presently a light gleams in front of me.  It is only a flickering, uncertain ray; perhaps some belated teamster is urging his reluctant mules to camp and has lighted his lantern.  No,—­there are sparks; it is a camp-fire.  I hearken for the challenge, not without solicitude; for it is about as dangerous to approach a nervous sentinel as to charge a battery.  I do not hear the stern inquiry, “Who comes there?” At last I am abreast of the fire, and myself call out,—­

“Who is there?”

“We are travellers,” is the reply.

What this meant I did not know.  What travellers are there through this distracted, war-worn region?  Are they fugitives from Price, or traitors flying before us?  I am not in sufficient force to capture half a dozen men, and if they are foes, it is not worth while to be too inquisitive; so I continue on my way, and they and their fire are soon enveloped by the night.  Presently I see another light in the far distance.  This must be a picket, for there are soldiers.  I look around for the sentry, not quite sure whether I am to be challenged or shot; but again I am permitted to approach unquestioned.  I call out,—­

“Who is there?”

“Men of Colonel Carr’s regiment.”

“What are you doing here?”

“We are guarding some of our wagons which were left here.  Our regiment has gone forward at a half-hour’s notice to reinforce Zagonyi,” said a sergeant, rising and saluting me.

“But is there no sentry here?” I asked.

“There was one, but he has been withdrawn,” replied the sergeant.

“Where are head-quarters?”

“At the first house on your right, about a hundred yards farther up the road,” he said, pointing in the direction I was going.

It was strange that I could ride up to within pistol-shot of head-quarters without being challenged, I soon reached the house.  A sentry stood at the gate.  I tied my horse to the fence, and walked into the Adjutant’s tent.  I had passed by night from one division of the army to another, along the public road, and entered head-quarters without being questioned.  Twenty-five bold men might have carried off the General.  I at once reported these facts to Colonel E.; inquiry was made, and it was found that some one had blundered.

There is no report from Springfield.  Zagonyi sent back for reinforcements before he reached the town, and Carr’s cavalry, with two light field-pieces, have been sent forward.  Captain R., my companion this afternoon, has also gone to learn what he may.  While I am writing up my journal, a group of officers is around the fire in front of the tent.  They are talking about Zagonyi and the Guard.  We are all feverish with anxiety.