Who Goes There? eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 587 pages of information about Who Goes There?.

Who Goes There? eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 587 pages of information about Who Goes There?.

To make sure that he was fast, I waited awhile; then I rose and made my way back to a spot near the wagon train, far in the rear.  It must have been after three o’clock.  The teamsters had finished feeding their mules.  Soon two of them began to hitch up their teams; then, with much shouting and rattling of harness, they moved off.  I stole along beside the second wagon for some distance, and had almost decided to climb into it from behind when I thought that possibly some one was in it.  There seemed little danger in going out behind the wagons, especially as there was no light of day as yet, although I expected that the cavalry pickets on the road would be looking straight at me, if I should pass them, and although, too, I fully understood that these wagons would be escorted by cavalry when on any dangerous part of the road to Richmond.  But my plan was to abandon the wagon 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?”

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Who Goes There? from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.