“You are to be a cavalryman for a while, Dick,” said Colonel Winchester.  “So much has happened recently that we scarcely know how we stand.  Above all, we do not know how the remaining Southern forces are disposed, and I have been chosen to lead a troop toward Nashville and see.  You, Warner, Pennington, that very capable sergeant, Whitley, and others whom you know are to go with me.  My force will number about three hundred and the horses are already waiting on the other side.”

They were carried over the river on one of the boats, and the little company, mounting, prepared to ride into the dark woods.  But before they disappeared, Dick looked back and saw many lights gleaming in captured Donelson.  Once more the magnitude of Grant’s victory impressed him.  Certainly he had struck a paralyzing blow at the Southern army in the west.

But the ride in the dark over a wild and thinly-settled country soon occupied Dick’s whole attention.  He was on one side of Colonel Winchester and Warner was on the other.  Then the others came four abreast.  At first there was some disposition to talk, but it was checked sharply by the leader, and after a while the disposition itself was lacking.

Colonel Winchester was a daring horseman, and Dick soon realized that it would be no light task to follow where he led.  Evidently he knew the country, as he rode with certainty over the worst roads that Dick had ever seen.  They were deep in mud which froze at night, but not solidly enough to keep the feet of the horses from crushing through, making a crackle as they went down and a loud, sticky sigh as they came out.  All were spattered with mud, which froze upon them, but they were so much inured to hardship now that they paid no attention to it.

But this rough riding soon showed so much effect upon the horses that Colonel Winchester led aside into the woods and fields, keeping parallel with the road.  Now and then they stopped to pull down fences, but they still made good speed.  Twice they saw at some distance cabins with the smoke yet rising from the chimneys, but the colonel did not stop to ask any questions.  Those he thought could be asked better further on.

Twice they crossed creeks.  One the horses could wade, but the other was so deep that they were compelled to swim.  On the further bank of the second they stopped a while to rest the horses and to count the men to see that no straggler had dropped away in the darkness.  Then they sprang into the saddle again and rode on as before through a country that seemed to be abandoned.

There was a certain thrill and exhilaration in their daring ride.  The smoke and odors of the battle about Donelson were blown away.  The dead and the wounded, the grewsome price even of victory, no longer lay before their eyes, and the cold air rushing past freshened their blood and gave it a new sparkle.  Every one in the little column knew that danger was plentiful about them, but there was pleasure in action in the open.