My commander was much pleased with my report, which proved to be extremely accurate and valuable.  The disguise he had failed to penetrate did not deceive my comrades of the Ninth Kansas, and when I passed them they all called me by name and asked me where I had been.  But my news was for my superior officers, and I did not need the warning Colonel Herrick gave me to keep my mouth shut while among the soldiers.

General Smith, to whom I later made a full detailed report, had spoken highly of my work to Colonel Herrick, who was gratified to know that his choice of a scout had been justified by results.

It was not long before the whole command knew of my return, but beyond the fact that I had been on a scouting expedition, and had brought back information much desired by the commander, they knew nothing of my journey.  The next morning, still riding the same mare and still wearing my Tennessee clothes, I rode out with the entire command in the direction of Forrest’s army.

Before I had traveled five miles I had been pointed out to the entire command, and cheers greeted me on every side.  As soon as an opportunity offered I got word with the general and asked if he had any further special orders for me.

“Just keep around,” he said; “I may need you later on.”

“But I am a scout,” I told him, “and the place for a scout is ahead of the army, getting information.”

“Go ahead,” he replied, “and if you see anything that I ought to know about come back and tell me.”

Delighted to be a scout once more, I made my way forward.  The general had given orders that I was to be allowed to pass in and out the lines at will, so that I was no longer hampered by the activities of my own friends.  I had hardly got beyond the sound of the troops when I saw a beautiful plantation house, on the porch of which was a handsome old lady and her two attractive daughters.

They were greatly alarmed when I came up, and asked if I didn’t know that the Yankee army would be along in a few minutes and that my life was in peril.  All their own men folks, they said, were in hiding in the timber.

“Don’t you sit here,” begged the old lady, when I had seated myself on the porch to sip a glass of milk for which I had asked her.  “The Yankee troops will go right through this house.  They will break up the piano and every stick of furniture, and leave the place in ruins.  You are sure to be killed or taken prisoner.”

By this time the advance guard was coming up the road.  General Smith passed as I was standing on the porch.  I saw that he had noticed me, though he gave no sign of having done so.  As more troops passed, men began leaving their companies and rushing toward the house.  I walked out and ordered them away in the name of the general.  They all knew who I was, and obeyed, much to the astonishment of the old lady and her daughter.

Turning to my hostess, I said: