The three youths responded quickly and with zeal, and Sergeant Whitley, when he was chosen, too, nodded in silent gratitude.  The night was dark, overcast with clouds, and in an hour Colonel Winchester with his four departed upon his perilous mission.  He was to secure information in regard to the Southern army, and to do that they were to go very near the Southern lines, if not actually inside them.  Such an attempt would be hazardous in the extreme in the face of a vigilant watch; but on the other hand they would be aided by the fact that both North and South were of like blood and language.  Even more, many of those in the opposing camps came from the same localities, and often were of kin.

Dick’s regiment had been stationed at the southern end of the line, near the little town of Dover, but they now advanced northward and westward, marching for a long time along their inner line.  It was Colonel Winchester’s intention to reach Hickman Creek, which formed their northern barrier, creep in the fringe of bushes on its banks, and then approach the fort.

When they reached the desired point the night was well advanced, and yet dark with the somber clouds hanging over river and fort and field of battle.  The wind blew out of the northwest, sharp and intensely cold.  The snow crunched under their feet.  But the four had wrapped themselves in heavy overcoats, and they were so engrossed in their mission that neither wind nor snow was anything to them.

They passed along the bank of the creek, keeping well within the shadow of the bushes, leaving behind them the last outpost of the Union army, and then slowly drew near to the fort.  They saw before them many lights burning in the darkness, and at last they discerned dim figures walking back and forth.  Dick knew that these were the Southern sentinels.  The four went a little nearer, and then crouched down in the snow among some low bushes.

Now they saw the Southern sentinels more distinctly.  Some, in fact, were silhouetted sharply as they passed before the Southern fires.  Northern sharpshooters could have crept up and picked off many of them, as the Southern sharpshooters in turn might have served many of the Northern watchers, but in this mighty war there was little of such useless and merciless enterprise.  The men soon ceased to have personal animosity, and, in the nights between the great battles, when the armies yet lay face to face, the hostile pickets would often exchange gossip and tobacco.  Even in a conflict waged so long and with such desperation the essential kindliness of human nature would assert itself.

The four, as they skirted the Southern line, noticed no signs of further preparations by the Confederates.  No men were throwing up earthworks or digging trenches.  As well as they could surmise, the garrison, like the besieging army, was seeking shelter and rest, and from this fact the keen mind of Colonel Arthur Winchester divined that the defense was confused and headless.