Leaving the river, I directed my steps toward the northeast.  So long as I was in the woods I went as rapidly as I could walk, and the country, even away from the river, was much wooded.  My knowledge of the map placed Lee’s Mill northeast of Warwick, and northeast I went, but for fully three hours I kept on and found no river again.  I felt sure that I had leaned too far to the east, and was about to turn square to my left and seek the river, when I saw before me a smaller stream flowing westward.  I did not understand.  I knew that I had come a much greater distance than three miles; I had crossed two large roads running north; this stream was not down on the map.  Suddenly the truth was seen; this stream was the Warwick itself, and above Lee’s Mill; here it was small, as Nick had intimated.

I turned westward; I had come too far; there must be a great angle in the river below me, and that angle must be at Lee’s Mill.

Not more than a hunched yards down the stream there was a dam, seemingly a new dam made of logs and earth.  At the time I could not understand why it was there.  On the other side of the water, which seemed to be deep, though narrow; I could hear a drum beating.  A road, a narrow country road, ran seemingly straight into the water.  Only a few steps to my left there was an elbow of the road, I moved to this elbow, keeping in the bushes, and looked down on the water.  There was no sign of a ferry; I could see the road where it left the water on the other side, and I could see men passing back and forth across the road some two or three hundred yards away.

For a long time I racked my brains before I understood the meaning of this road’s going into deep water.  What could it mean?  Certainly there was a reason for it, and a strong reason.  The ordinary needs of the country would require a ferry, and there was no ferry.  I had looked long and closely, and was sure there was no ferry, and was almost as sure that there never had been one.  The road before my eyes was untravelled; the ruts were weeks old, without the sign of a fresh track since the last rains; the road was not now used, that was a certainty.

When was this road used? ...  The whole situation became clear; the road had been a good road before the rebels came; when they fortified their lines they rendered the road useless.  They destroyed the ford by building the dam below.

I made my way down the stream, little elated at my solution of what at first had seemed a mystery, for I felt that Nick would have told me offhand all about it.

In less than a mile I came to another road running into deep water.  Now, thought I, if my solution is correct, we shall shortly see another dam, and it was not five minutes before I came in sight of the second dam.

I climbed a tree near by; I could see portions of a line of earthworks on the other side of the river.  The line of works seemed nearly straight, at least much more nearly so than the river was.  To attack the Confederate lines here would be absurd, unless our troops could first destroy the dams and find an easy crossing.