The independent Virginia farmer had anticipated Tom’s intention to part company with him, and, by this time, perhaps, had passed through the Gap.  The soldier boy was not quite ready to dispense with the services of his guide, inasmuch as he did not even know where the Gap was, or in what direction he must travel to reach it.  While he was debating his prospects, an enterprising rooster, in the distance, sounded his morning call.  This assured him that he must be near some travelled road, and, taking the direction from the fowl, he resumed his journey.

A short walk brought him out of the woods, and, in the gray light of the dawn, he discovered a house.  As he did not care to make any new acquaintances, he avoided the house, and continued his travels till he arrived at a road.  As it was too early in the morning for people to be stirring, he ventured to follow the highway, and soon perceived an opening in the mountains, which he doubted not was the Gap.

At sunrise he arrived at another house, which suddenly came into view as he rounded a bend in the road.  Near it were several negroes engaged in various occupations.  As he passed the house, the negroes all suspended operations, and stared at him till he was out of sight.  He soon reached the Gap; but he had advanced only a short distance before he discovered a battery of light artillery stationed on a kind of bluff, and whose guns commanded the approaches in every direction.

Deeming it prudent to reconnoitre before he proceeded any farther, he also ascertained that the Gap was picketed by rebel infantry.  Of course it was impossible to pass through under these circumstances, and he again took to the woods.  The scanty supply of food which he had purchased from Mrs. Burnap was now produced, and he made an economical breakfast.  Finding a secluded place, he stretched himself upon the ground, and went to sleep.  Though he slept till the sun had passed the meridian, the day was a very long one.

When it was fairly dark, he resolved to attempt the passage of the Gap, for he was so tired of inaction that peril and hardship seemed preferable to doing nothing.  Returning to the road, he pursued his way with due diligence through the narrowing defile of the mountains, till he suddenly came upon a sentinel, who challenged him.  Before he started from his hiding place, Tom had carefully loaded the revolver which he had taken from the rebel soldier; and, as he walked along, he carried the weapon in his hand, ready for any emergency that might require its use.

The guard questioned him, and Tom replied that he had fought in the battle down below, and had a furlough to go home and see his father, who was very sick.

“Where’s your furlough?” demanded the soldier.

“In my pocket.”

“Let me see it.”

“Here it is,” replied Tom, producing an old letter which he happened to have in his pocket.

The sentinel took the paper, unfolded it, and turned it over two or three times.  It was too dark for him to read it if he had been able to do so, for all the rebel soldiers are not gifted in this way.