Tom stood upon the bank of the Shenandoah.  The negro had told him that he was about thirty miles from Harper’s Ferry, which he knew was in possession of General Patterson’s forces.  Attached to a tree on the shore was a small flat-bottomed boat, which attracted the attention of the soldier boy.  Tom was accustomed to boats, and the sight of this one suggested a change of programme, for it would be much easier to float down the stream, than to walk the thirty miles.  This was a point which needed no argument; and unfastening the painter of the boat, he jumped in, and pushed off.  Seating himself in the stern, with the paddle in his hand, he kept her head with the current, and swept down the rapid stream like a dreamy youth just starting upon the voyage of life.

Like the pilgrim on the sea of time, Tom was not familiar with the navigation of the Shenandoah, and he had neither chart nor compass to assist him.  The current was very swift, and once in a while the bateau bumped upon a concealed rock, or bar of sand.  Fortunately no serious accident occurred to him, though he found that the labor of managing the boat was scarcely less than that of walking.

There was one consolation about it; he was in no danger of missing the road, and he was not bothered by Confederate soldiers or inquisitive civilians.  His light bark rushed on its way down the stream, without attracting the notice of any of the inhabitants, if any were abroad at that unseemly hour of the night.  The difficulties of the navigation were overcome with more or less labor, and when the day dawned, Tom made up his mind that he had done a good night’s work; and choosing a secluded nook by the side of the river, he hauled up his boat, intending to wait for the return of darkness.

The place he had chosen appeared to be far from any habitation, and he ate his breakfast in a very hopeful frame of mind.  Though he was not very tired or very sleepy, yet for the want of something better to do, he felt compelled to go to sleep, hoping, as on the previous day, to dispose of the weary hours in this agreeable manner.  His pastime, however, was soon interrupted by loud shouts and the tramp of men, not far from the spot where he lay.  A hurried examination of the surroundings assured him that he had chosen a resting place near one of the fords of the river, over which a rebel regiment was then passing.

CHAPTER XXI.

The problem of rations.

The ford over which the rebel regiment was passing was only a few rods distant from the place where Tom had concealed himself and his boat.  When he discovered the soldiers, he was thrilled with terror; and, fully believing that his hour had come, he dropped upon the ground, to wait, in trembling anxiety, the passage of the troops.  It was a regiment of Virginia mountaineers, clothed in the most fantastic style with hunting-shirts and coon-skin caps.  They yelled and howled like so many wildcats.