When the sun was nearly an hour high, we were aroused from our slumbers by a loud and incessant racket in the woods. We did not uncover our heads at first. A squad of cavalry-men was the first thing of which we thought, but on uncovering our heads and raising up on our elbows, we found it, was the noise of wood choppers that had disturbed us. We looked all around us, but could see nobody. The chopping continued, and from the noise we judged several axes were being used. We at once concluded that a party of negroes were at work not far from us, and that we would have an opportunity of procuring supplies. The prospect pleased us. Had we known our conclusion was correct we should have been in an ecstasy of gratitude.

About one hundred yards south of us was a high ridge extending east and west. East of us, about seventy yards distant, was another ridge or spur putting out due northward from the main ridge. We judged from the sounds that the wood choppers were east of us and the ridge last described. By consent of our party, Sutherland and I got out of bed and walked eastwardly to the ridge, striking it not far from the point where it was lost in the level ground. We then crept along on our hands and feet, keeping close together so that we could talk to each other and be understood without speaking loudly. Soon we got around the point of the ridge to a thicket of brush, where we halted. We could see the colored folks at work, plying their axes vigorously. We waited and watched anxiously a few minutes, to see if any whites were with them. We saw none, and were glad of it; we returned to our comrades and made report. We were in a blissful state of mind, and comforted ourselves on the cheering prospect before us. Our feelings no doubt were similar to those of weary travelers in the desert on approaching an oasis.

Our determination to consult with the negroes, and make overtures for food and such other assistance as they could give, was soon made. It was agreed that Sutherland and I should go upon this delicate mission. We went, and soon reached the point from which we had watched the negroes before. We again watched them closely, and assuring ourselves that no whites were near, we emerged from the thicket, and walked briskly toward them. As we approached one of the negroes noticed us. He immediately called the attention of the others to us. Instantly all chopping ceased, and quiet succeeded. At the same moment we halted, and Sutherland put his hand to his mouth and asked if any whites were about? The negro nearest us answered, "No, sah; massa was heah dis mornin', but he done gone home now." We then advanced to the fires, around which the negroes had collected to the number of ten or a dozen, large and small. Our wants were immediately made known to them. They were quite willing, even anxious to respond to our call for food. They offered to divide with us at noon, when "missus" brought their dinner out. We told them they would not have enough to spare, as there were six of us, and we were very hungry. The oldest negro or "boss hand," as he was called, then sent one of the younger ones to bring us something to eat. The negroes were all deeply interested in us, and were anxious to learn where our four comrades were hid. We told them, and inquired if that was a safe place. We were informed it was safe enough, but there was a better place south of it, across the ridge. We told the boss we would cross the ridge and look out a good hiding-place. He promised to bring our dinner to us as soon as it was brought to him where he was at work.

Sutherland and I then returned to our comrades and informed them it would not be long until we should have something to eat. In accordance with the advice received from our colored friends we gathered our things and moved across the ridge. We had passed the summit of the ridge and were going down its southern declivity when we came to a bench or level place, where we concluded to stop and make our bed. We had intended to go to the level ground near the base of the ridge, but on reaching the bench we knew of no reason why we should not stop there for the remainder of the day. We made our bed anew, and then washed our hands and faces, using the water from our bucket and canteen for that purpose. We then seated ourselves upon our bed, and quietly awaited the approach of the "boss" with our dinner. We had waited a short time, probably a half hour, when we saw him with a large bucket in hand near the base of the ridge hunting for us. One of our party rolled a small stone down hill toward him to let him know where we were. He soon discovered us, and climbed the hill-side, and delivered to us our dinner. We began eating immediately, and found we had been bountifully provided for. A bucket full of eatables, consisting of fried ham, fried eggs, boiled beans, and corn-dodgers, was furnished us. We had a keen relish for such fare, and devoured it all. When we had finished eating, the negro took his bucket and returned to his work; first telling us he would see us again in the evening. Our appetites were fully satisfied, and we covered ourselves in our bed and went to sleep.

We had slept but a short time before our rest was disturbed by a considerable noise. It was the noise of cavalry-men, without doubt, we thought, or of horses running at their utmost speed. We uncovered our heads and raised them slightly. On looking southward we saw two hounds pass near the base of the ridge. They ran swiftly, and were hot in pursuit of game. They were closely followed by three or four white citizens on horseback. The hounds and horsemen were soon out of hearing, and we felt greatly relieved. Just then the excitement of the chase was not agreeable to us. We were heartily glad we were not the objects of pursuit. Had we gone to the level ground, at the base of the ridge, before halting, as was at first intended, we would most likely have placed ourselves directly on the trail. The result to us in that case would have been unfortunate. As our hiding-place was on the steep side of the ridge, almost surrounded by small trees and brush, we thought it a safe one, and again gave ourselves over to rest. We slept well until late in the day. When we awoke the first object almost which met our vision was our colored benefactor sitting near us whittling a stick. He informed us we should have another meal at dusk. We told him any thing good to eat would be acceptable to us, and place us under lasting obligations to those who furnished it. We told him, too, that we had some Confederate money, and would buy as much provisions as he could deliver to us at dark, if it was not more than we could carry. He promised to see if we could be supplied, and told us to come up where they were at work after sunset.

As the day was already far spent, we began to fit up for another night's journey. On completing our preparations, we waited a few minutes longer for the sun to disappear in the west. Soon it had shed its last ray over us for the day, and we picked up our things and started from our retreat. By the twilight we made our way through the woods to the place where the negroes had been at work during the day. Just before dark we reached them. They had ceased from their labors and were expecting us. Some fruit pies fried in grease were furnished us for supper. While we were eating, the negroes asked what kind of provisions we could carry most of, or most conveniently. We told them we could do best on meat, salt, and meal. Two or three of them then went to bring us a supply of those articles. In due time they returned with a ham of meat, a little salt, half a bushel of meal, and half a dozen corn-dodgers. Wood had with him a clean pillow-slip, brought from the hospital. In it we put the corn-meal. The ham was cut in pieces and put in our haversacks. The salt was carried by one of our party in a blouse pocket.

On setting out we had the corn-dodgers, for which there was no room in our haversacks; and as, on account of their size, we could not get them into our blouse pockets without breaking them, we carried them in our hands until midnight. The ham had cost the negroes three dollars a pound, and it weighed twelve pounds and a half. We paid them thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents for it in Confederate shin-plaster. For the meal, salt, corn-bread, and what we had eaten during the day, we gave them twenty-two dollars and fifty cents. We paid them sixty dollars in all. It was not necessary, they did not exact it, but we had the scrip and were made no poorer by parting with it. It was current there at the time, and was much below par in the country we hoped to reach ere long.

We conversed briefly with the colored people before leaving them. We learned from them that we had traveled twenty-three miles the previous night, and that it was about forty miles to Rocky Mount Court-House, in Franklin county. It was growing late. The moon had risen, and was advancing in its course. Every hour of the night was precious to us and must be improved. We expressed to our benefactors our obligations. We thanked them heartily and sincerely. We told them they had no idea of the value of the service they had performed. It was a service to us; it was also a service to the cause in which we had struggled and suffered much. We could not pay them adequately, but hoped in the end they would have their reward in the results of the war.

We bade them good-night and left them, and sought the road immediately; on reaching it we could but contrast our feelings with those we had experienced on leaving it early in the morning. Our minds were at perfect ease on the question of supplies, as our pillow-slip was full, our haversacks were full, and each of us had a corn-dodger in his hand besides. We thought we should make a long stride toward our lines before our supplies should be exhausted. The meal in the pillow-slip was carried by turns. As we had eaten a great deal during the day we did not feel like walking rapidly. We put in the whole time, however, until after midnight, when we stopped to rest and eat some bread. A few minutes' rest sufficed, and we resumed our travels.

As no incident in our travels particularly interesting, or worthy of record, transpired for two or three nights or days, we pass on to the events of a subsequent date. We will say, first, that during the interval of time over which we pass without noting every circumstance of our journey, we were very cautious. In the night-time, while passing houses near the road, we maintained the strictest silence. We walked carefully, and even then the dogs often discovered us, and made the night dismal with their howling. We made it a rule not to allow daylight to find us upon the road; but before we go much farther in our narrative we will give an instance in which it did so find us. The first rays of the sun generally shone upon us in our bed asleep. During our waking hours in day-time, when hid in the lonely woods, we were careful not to talk, or laugh out boisterously, knowing the liability to be heard at a distance. We did not stand up or walk about a great deal. When we had supplies there was no occasion to incur risks, or purposely come in contact with any persons, black or white. We always hid, if possible, where water would be convenient to us. We had fire in day-time with which to broil our meat and make mush. During the day we prepared our midnight lunch. When we were in a secure retreat for the day we generally prepared a quantity of mush, for fear our hiding-place next day would be in a place too much exposed to admit of fire or smoke. In all our movements we tried to exercise the utmost caution. As the distance between us and our prison became greater we became, if possible, more cautious. The farther we got from prison the greater would be our disappointment in being caught and taken back.

The early morning of February 24th found us upon the road, which led through an open country. Cleared and fenceless lands bordered it on either side. We pushed on, in the hope of reaching woods, until broad daylight. At length the rays of the rising sun began to illuminate the face of Nature. We were then obliged to leave the public highway. The road had led us northward the last two nights, and still led us in that direction. We looked to our right, where the lands were hilly or a little broken. We went in that direction, thinking we could hide behind a knoll, or rising ground. Soon we gained a point or crest, from which the ground sloped gently to the east. A hundred yards or more ahead of us we saw the tops of scattering trees projecting above a bluff. We pressed on, and soon stood upon a precipice, and looked beyond it, over a narrow wooded valley. We clambered half-way down the precipice to hide among the rocks. We had laid our blankets, haversacks, and bag of meal aside. We were going to make our bed, but found the space in which we stood was not large enough for all of us. We would be hampered by the rocks. Smith and I had unrolled our blankets; Sutherland, Wood, Trippe, and Taylor had gone a little farther down among the rocks to find more room. About the same time we saw a smoke rising through the trees in the valley. We were sure a house was there, although we could not see it. It was south-east of us, apparently half a mile distant.

We were about beginning the preparations for our daily rest when the noise of an ax resounded in our ears. The noise was so unexpected and so near us that we were startled, and at first looked around wildly, and in amaze. We soon recovered from the shock of astonishment and surprise, and peered cautiously around the rocks and looked below us. Not more than a hundred yards from us, in the woods near the base of the precipice, we saw a single white man wielding his ax. His dog was near him. On account of the dog we lay low. If he had got a glimpse of us his master would have become aware of our presence. We could not make our bed; we could do nothing but keep still. Smith and I had near us all the blankets, and all the provisions belonging to our party. Our comrades were about thirty feet below us, almost under us. Smith ventured to drop their blankets to them, after which we all kept quiet. We slept but little. As long as the ax was used we felt no fear of being seen by the man, but every half hour we peered out from the rocks to see if the dog was near him.

About noon, or a little later, the man ceased chopping. We thought we should have a short respite while the man went to dinner, and would embrace that opportunity to eat our own. We looked out to see him leaving. We were greatly disappointed. A woman—his wife perhaps—had brought his dinner to him, and he was eating. She was accompanied by another dog. The two dogs then pranced and prowled about in the woods, and we watched them closely. We were fearful they would go around, and get above and behind us, but they did not do so. We were in a very restless and impatient mood; each moment seemed an hour almost. We would have parted with jewels, if we had possessed them, to have been away from there. When the man had finished eating, the woman took her bucket and went away, followed by the dogs. We were highly pleased to know the dogs were gone, for they had annoyed us greatly. The man resumed his toil unconscious of our presence. As he chopped almost incessantly, and could, therefore, look around but little, we felt a little safer. Smith and I opened our haversacks and took out some meat. We cut off a few thin slices and sprinkled them with meal. On raw meat and meal we made our dinner. While eating, Smith and I exhibited ourselves to our comrades below us. They looked up wishfully, and signified their desire to eat. As Smith and I had all the commissary stores we continued eating, to tantalize our comrades. At length we put some meal and a chunk of meat in a haversack and dropped it to them.

The day had been a long one to us. Our rest had not been refreshing. We were in constant apprehension and suspense. The loss of sleep and comfort, in consequence of having no bed, had its effect upon our bodies. We felt chilled and sore, and we longed for the approach of night. Near four o'clock, P. M., the wood chopper ceased from toil and went off with his ax on his shoulder. Erelong the sun went down, and, as soon as we got every thing ready, we climbed the precipice and went directly to the road. Early in the night we found we were about entering the suburbs of a town. It was Rocky Mount Court-House, Franklin county. We approached it on a road which bore a little west of north. We fell back a few paces and began our circuit around the place. On leaving the road we first climbed a fence and went across the corner of an inclosed tract of timber lands. We then climbed a second fence and entered open fields, in which we continued until the road north-west of the place was reached. In making our circuit we were guided by the lights in the town, which were yet burning. Near midnight we halted and eat some meal and meat, upon which, with an occasional swallow of water, we made a respectable supper.

On the morning of February 25th, as on the previous morning, we were in an open country. At daylight we looked ahead of us on the road, but saw no woods. A house, however, was discernible in the distance. As we dared not pass it, we left the road which had been leading us westward. South of the road, about half a mile, we saw a space of ground covered over with numerous rocks, large and small. To it we directed our steps, in the hope that the rocks would afford us shelter for the day. We soon reached the place, but did not much like it, and were loath to remain in its inadequate protection. But as the sun was up, we could not look for a better or more secure hiding-place without incurring even greater risks than there would be in making our bed, and keeping it during the day, where we were. We cleared the small rocks from a space sufficiently large for our bed and spread it upon the ground. We then lay down to sleep. Our heads were near the base of a large rock which was between us and the road we had left a few moments before, and it hid us from view in that direction. To our right and left and at our feet were many rocks of smaller size, which partially concealed us as long as we lay low. On lying down we looked all around us, but scarcely a tree or bush was visible. Nothing but a waste of barren ground with an undulating and rocky surface could be seen. South of us, perhaps a little west, and nearly a mile distant, was higher ground. Beyond and above it, a few of the topmost branches of the tallest trees projected. The chief feature of the country immediately surrounding us was barrenness and nakedness. We could not resist the impression that our hiding-place was poorly chosen. A feeling of insecurity crept over us. The primeval forest of Virginia, with only the exception of the previous day, had hitherto protected us from the view of the rebellious citizens of the State. Near three hours of undisturbed repose was granted us.

Near ten o'clock, A. M., we were awakened by a clattering noise. Taylor looked out cautiously and discovered it was made by a wagon passing over a stony road. It was not on the road we had left in the morning, but on one just west of us, which crossed or intersected it. It was nearly two hundred yards from us. The man in the wagon was driving north-east, having come on the road from the south-west. On stopping in the morning we had not noticed the road, as the surface of the ground was a little broken, and many rocks and knolls intervened between it and ourselves. It had washed and worn considerably below the level of the ground. On finding we were so near a public highway, we felt uneasy, and still more dissatisfied with our hiding-place. We did not leave it yet, however, as the wagon had passed on out of hearing.

We again essayed to sleep. We fell into a kind of dozing sleep, from which we were soon aroused by the hum of voices. We looked westward and saw several persons, mostly women and children, walking on the road. They were a great while passing, it seemed to us, and were disposed to loiter by the way. We felt in an exceedingly disagreeable and unsafe position. At length the hum of voices died away and we tried to feel at ease, but could not. Very soon another rattling on the stony road disturbed our equanimity and patience. We looked and saw a cart on the road driven by a negro. It was a one-horse concern, and was followed by a white man on horseback. We judged we were not far from town, and resolved to flee our hiding-place, for fear some strollers, or home guards, or somebody should come upon us and report us, and take measures to recapture us.

We waited and watched until nearly noon, when, concluding there would be no passing on the road, we put our things in convenient shape for our first day-time traveling. Just as we had completed our preparations, we looked westward and northward to see if any persons were upon the road. We saw none. We immediately started southward, bearing slightly to our left. We did not run, but walked rapidly, without looking behind us. When we had gone about a mile, we reached a point from which we could look down an inclined plane into woods. We halted and looked all around us, but saw no one. We judged we had not been seen, and deemed our movement a successful one. We were glad to see woods once more, and pushed on until we stood in the midst of forest-trees.

We sat down on a large rock to rest and watch awhile. We were on a wooded hill-side, which sloped gently to the south-west. Trippe got up from his seat and went in a south-east course on the hill-side, to look for a place in which to hide. He was gone some time, and we became impatient for his return. We did not wish to leave the place where he had left us until he came back, as he would not know where to find us. Nearly a half hour passed before we saw Trippe returning. He was walking slowly and hesitatingly. He occasionally looked back in the direction he had gone. Before he reached us we discovered something wrong had happened; or if nothing wrong, something at least which we would rather had not transpired.

Trippe was vexed and almost spiritless. He had been recaptured once, and now he thought his time had come to be caught again and taken back to prison. He told us the cause of his discouragement. He had gone south-east of us, an eighth of a mile, or more, along the hill-side. He had turned directly south to go down hill, when he saw a man clad in "butternut" coming up hill. Trippe thought, and hoped, he had not been noticed by the citizen, and stood still to see if he would pass. The citizen came on up hill. His foot slipped, and he caught hold of a little tree to keep from falling. In getting around and above the tree his head turned slightly, and he noticed Trippe, about twenty steps from him. As soon as he recovered from his surprise he approached Trippe, and asked what he was doing there. Trippe said he was just looking through the woods a little. Other questions were asked, and answered by each party. Trippe tried at first to equivocate, but found it useless, as his uniform was plainly that of a Federal soldier. He told the citizen he had been a prisoner at Danville, and with others was trying to make his way to the Union lines. He also told him where we were, and how many there were of us in all. The citizen feigned sympathy with Trippe, and expressed a hope that he would get home all right. Trippe had very little faith in him. He advised Trippe not to fight any more against the South, and at the same time offered his hand. Trippe took the hand in his own with not the slightest confidence in its possessor. The Rebel pledged to Trippe his word and honor not to lay a straw in his path, and immediately turned and went directly back on his trail. Trippe watched him, and soon saw that he hurried himself, as if suddenly imbued with a new purpose.

When Trippe related the circumstance to us we became intent on getting away from there, as quickly and as far as possible. We placed no reliance in the promise of the Confederate not to lay a straw in our path, but thought he would take measures to interpose greater obstacles in the way of our progress. Our things being already in compact marching order, we started immediately. The meal in the pillow-slip, though not heavy, being more than two-thirds used, was all the surplus thing we had to carry. All else was in our haversacks. We went south-east, and soon reached the spot where the citizen had been encountered by Trippe. We then turned to our right and went south-west. On reaching the base of the ridge we found we would emerge from the woods and cross cleared lands, in a narrow valley, or change our course. There was no time for debate, and we pushed ahead.

Near the outskirts of the woods two little boys and a little girl were playing. As we passed, the largest boy cried out, "Uncle Jim has gone for the guards to catch you uns with." We hurried forward, scarcely taking time to thank the children for the information. If we had to be hunted we were glad to know it. A short distance ahead of us was a house. We passed near it, leaving it a little to our right. When we were just opposite the house, a woman came to the door and exhorted us to hurry. She said her brother-in-law was a "mean man," and had gone to report us to the home guards. As time was gold to us just then, we did not halt, but heeded the exhortation so earnestly given. As we crossed the branch which traversed the narrow valley we heard the woman say her husband had been killed in the war. She talked on, but we were soon out of hearing.

As we approached the upland, on the opposite side of the valley, we began to think about obscuring our trail. We noticed where a hollow, or ravine, entered the valley from the wooded hill-side. We got into the hollow and followed on its rocky bed, where we made no tracks, until we got some distance into the woods. A portion of the time we went on the double-quick, and sometimes, when on level ground or going down hill, we went even more rapidly. It was two o'clock, or a little later in the day, when we first halted to listen for "Uncle Jim" and his guards. We did not hear them, nor did we wish to; so we pressed on. We had so far traveled three miles or more, mostly in a western direction.

A point had been reached from which we could look across fields and open country in all directions, except south, south-west, and east—the course we should take in retracing our steps. As we did not wish to cross fields, or go back on our trail, we turned southward. In that direction we proceeded until we had gone over a mile, when we turned to our right, and again pushed rapidly westward, through a heavy wood. Soon we came to a branch of clear running water. As we were tired we concluded we would wade in the water, following the stream down, and thus obscure our trail. As we had made tracks in the wet soil near the branch on approaching it, we pushed on across it, going some distance until the solid ground was reached. We then got back to the branch, walking on scattering rocks, sticks, and logs, so as to leave no traces behind us. If the guards were on our trail, we hoped, when they reached the branch, they would cross it, and push on westward as speedily as possible.

We followed down stream in a south-west course for more than a mile. When in the water we traveled at a moderate gait, as the branch traversed a very narrow, thickly wooded valley, and we could not be seen at a distance. A point on the branch was at length reached where a road crossed it. The road had the appearance of being traveled a great deal, and we looked up and down it to see if any body could be seen. On seeing no one we crossed to the south of the road, still wading in the water. After getting a short distance into the woods, south of the road, we left the branch and pushed rapidly westward. Our feet had become wet, and we resorted to brisk walking to get our socks dry. We would have taken time to take our socks off and wring the water from them, but, should the guards come upon us, we did not wish to be barefooted.

Our flight was continued until sunset. We had intended traveling on a line parallel with the road, but found it necessary to bear southward occasionally to avoid crossing open fields. When the sun had gone down we called a halt. The country was very rough and broken where we halted; heavy woods and brushy undergrowth were all around us on all the hill-sides. We took refuge in a thicket, near a considerable bluff. No sounds of pursuers could be heard; every thing was still. We rested well, and slept a little. Our feet were worsted by the wetting they had received and our subsequent rapid walking. On a few scraps of meat dipped in meal we made a scanty supper. We dared not build a fire after dark or we would have made some mush and taken a fuller meal.

Before the moon arose it was very dark. We waited half an hour or more for its appearance above the horizon. At length its light shone dimly through the woods. The sky was a little clouded and the woods were dense, but the moon served to guide us upon our course, if its light did shine imperfectly and at intervals. We gathered our things and started. We steered northward. When obliged to turn aside, or vary from that course, we varied to the west. Many difficulties beset us. Our hurried march in the day had considerably taxed our powers of endurance; our rest at dark was brief, only, long enough for our limbs to stiffen; our feet were sore; we were hungry; our hasty meal at dark had not sufficed. It was the first we had eaten since midnight of the night before, on getting around Rocky Mount Court-House. The country was hilly; we got over and down one hill only to begin the ascent of another; the woods were dark, and logs and brush obstructed our pathway and impeded our progress. We persevered, however, and pressed on. One of our party went in advance and pushed the brush aside; the other five of us followed just behind him, in "close order."

Fully an hour passed before we emerged from the brush and woods into more open ground. We climbed a fence and crossed a field. On getting out of the field we struck a road running east and west. We followed it at a moderate gait until we had gone a mile, when we reached a cross-road. We then turned to our right and went due north. On going two miles or more we called a halt. We were much fatigued; nearly worn down, in fact, and, besides, we were faint and hungry. The road we were following seemed not to be much traveled. We had passed no house since dark. We had stopped on the road, where it was winding along the side of a ridge, which was heavily wooded. We determined to look for a retreat where we could rest awhile, build a fire, and make some mush. We left the road and went up hill west of it. Soon we gained the top of the hill or ridge. We then went down the hill on its western slope, and in the bushes near the foot of it we halted. The noise of rippling or running waters could be distinctly heard. Two of our party took our canteen and bucket and went to fill them. While they were gone we built a fire. A blanket was unrolled and spread on the bushes above the fire to partially conceal its light. Our bucket was then made three times full of mush. Small, thin slices and bits of meat were cut off and put in the mush as it was cooking. Soon our hunger was appeased, and our weariness hung not so heavily upon us. We put up our things, scattered our fire, sought the road, and resumed our journey.

Near midnight, and just after we had crossed a branch, we were startled by hearing a solitary shot in the woods. We immediately halted. Seemingly the sound of the shot came from a point not very far ahead of us, but some distance to our left. Our first conjecture was that we were in the vicinity of a cavalry bivouac. Two or three of our party thought the home guards had been posted on the roads, and were about to hem us in. There was no time to be lost in parleying, and we determined to go on slowly and slyly. Before going two hundred yards we came to a turn in the road. The road had been leading us northward, but on going around the turn it led us west. We again halted, thinking it was possible there was a guard on the road, as it led in the direction from whence the sound of the shot had proceeded. Trippe proposed going on a few paces to see. He did so. We followed him at the distance of fifty or sixty paces. In this way we advanced fully half a mile, when we reached a point where the road passed between fields. Trippe waited until we came up, when he pronounced the road clear, as far as pickets were concerned.

We then pushed on, and discovered we were about passing a house on the left of the road. We checked our speed and passed the house with care and celerity. When we had got about twenty steps beyond the house, and just as we were becoming careless again, the dogs began a lively barking. We proceeded a dozen steps further when we noticed the sparks of a fire flying upward. The fire was about twenty steps ahead of us, on the left of the road. It was near the corner of the rail-fence, where the lane terminated. We stopped instantly, but said nothing. We watched the fire closely for a moment. The dogs kept up their howling. In the light of the fire, which soon blazed up, we distinctly saw several covered wagons ahead of us near the road side. We knew, or thought at least, that we were about running into a supply train. We hardly knew what to do. The dogs continued barking furiously, and would soon arouse somebody, to see what disturbed them. We could not go forward, as the guards, or teamsters, with the train would discover us. We did not wish to go back by the house, as there was danger of being observed by persons within, or about it. There was no time for deliberation. We climbed the rail-fence to our right on the north of the road. We were careful not to make any noise; although the dogs made hubbub enough to drown any noise we should make.

We had left tracks on the road, and found on getting into the field that its surface was moist and impressible. We determined to make a trail that would mislead any person who might have the curiosity to follow us. On reaching a point in the field about a quarter of a mile due north of the road we turned east. In that direction we traveled half a mile. We then turned south and crossed the fence at the corner of the field. On getting into the road we followed it east nearly a quarter of a mile, when we went some distance in a south-east course. By so doing we got into thick woods where the ground was covered with leaves, where we could leave only very indistinct traces behind us. We then turned and traveled directly west, keeping parallel with the road, and a little more than a quarter of a mile south of it. The dogs at the house still kept up their howling; and as the train and those with it were just at hand, we kept off at a safe distance. The shot we had heard an hour before, we judged had been fired by some one with the train.

When we had gone far enough, in a western direction, to reach a point directly south of the house, where the dogs were still barking, we bore considerably to our right, and went north-west. We continued in that direction until we struck the road some distance west of the wagon train. After going something more than a mile further on the road, in a direction a little north of west, we halted. It lacked an hour or more of being daylight, but as we were very tired, having traveled many miles in the last twenty-four hours, we determined to look out for a secure hiding-place for the day. We accordingly left the road and penetrated some distance into the woods on the north of it. Just after crossing a small branch we halted, and made our preparations for a refreshing sleep. We fell into a sound slumber immediately on lying down on our bed.

About mid-day we awoke and found ourselves very stiff and sore all over. We felt very little like moving about. We had pulled off our shoes on lying down, and on getting up we found our feet were so very sore that we could hardly get them on again. The sky was overcast with clouds, threatening snow. Our stock of provisions was getting very low, and other circumstances seemed to conspire in making the woods around us and the prospect before us quite cheerless. That we had not fallen into the hands of the home guards was the only circumstance that afforded us consolation. After getting our shoes on, we set about building a fire. We went to the branch near us and washed our hands and faces; afterward feeling some better. Our vessels were filled with water at the branch, to be used in making mush. When we had dispatched our dinner we had some meal left, also a little salt, but no meat. The meal was emptied from the pillow-slip and made into mush, which, with the exception of the last bucket full made, was put into the pillow-slip. The last mush made was left in the bucket. When the mush became cold it sliced off nicely, and was ready for our midnight meal.

Shortly after noon one of our party wandered out northward from our hiding-place some distance, and spied a man engaged in plowing in an old field. It was early in the season, we thought, for plowing, but as we had seen plowing near Danville in January, we knew it was nothing unusual for that country. Sutherland and I went out and lay close to the fence which inclosed the field, to watch the man who was plowing, and see if we could determine whether he was white or black. It so happened that he did not plow on out to the fence near which we were hid, as a strip of sod or grass land intervened between him and the fence. We were somewhat disappointed, as we could not make out at that distance whether the man was white or black. If we had been assured he was a black man, we would have made an effort to procure more food.

Near the close of the day we went to the branch and bathed our feet thoroughly, hoping, if it did not improve them, it would keep them from getting sorer than they were already. We then lay down and slept about an hour, and on waking we found that our blankets and the ground were covered with snow to the depth of an inch. We got up and shook the snow from our blankets, and put every thing in order for the night's marching. Awhile before sunset the snow ceased falling, the clouds began to clear away, and the weather was perceptibly cooler. No clouds obscured the sun as it shed its last rays over us for the day, and sank from view in the west.

Just at dark we left our hiding-place and went directly to the road. It was quite dark, as the moon had not appeared; but as our feet were sore, we could only advance slowly any how, and we pushed on. In the road, where there were no leaves, the snow had melted, making the walking slippery and slavish. When the moon arose we walked at the side of the road, and got along some better. Early in the night Taylor began to fall behind. Sore feet, we judged, was the cause of his slow progress. He fell behind several times, and we waited as often for him to come up. We asked him no questions, only supposing that his feet were sorer than our own. About ten o'clock, or a little later in the night, we struck a pike running north-east and south-west. The road we had been following did not cross it. As we had to change our course, and as Taylor was some distance behind, we waited for him to catch up. When he had caught up we waited awhile longer for him to rest.

On renewing our travels we followed the pike in a north-east course toward Lynchburg. Before going very far on the pike, we passed one house on the left. We went nearly half a mile beyond the house, when we discovered an obscure road leading westward. We changed our course, as we wished to reach and cross the Blue Ridge Mountains as soon as possible. Taylor had kept up with us while following the pike, but again fell behind on leaving it. The road was a poor one. Its clay surface had been considerably moistened by the melting snow, late in the day and early in the night. Before midnight the mud began freezing, and it stuck tenaciously to our shoes. The country was rough and broken, and the road led us over a succession of ridges and hollows. In breaking the frozen crust of mud our feet were continually slipping backward or forward, or sideways, as we went up and down the hills, making our march extremely fatiguing and wearisome. We were obliged to keep the road on account of the trees, logs, and brush near it on either side. Our way, however, was plain before us, as the road looked black in contrast with the snowy woods.

We trudged on in the difficult and lonely way, and, though our progress was slow, Taylor had fallen far behind. Near midnight we were on the point of stopping to eat some mush, but concluded to move on slowly for awhile, and give Taylor a chance to catch up with us or gain on us. We slackened our pace considerably, and, on going half a mile, we halted at the road side. Taylor had not caught up with us, neither was he in sight or hearing. We sat on a log, and waited patiently for his approach. Several minutes passed while we were waiting. We took the mush from our bucket and cut it in slices ready for eating. While so doing Taylor came dragging himself along the road. We called to him, and he turned aside to join us in the woods. He was lame and weary. On reaching us he sank almost exhausted to the ground, sitting in the snow and placing his back against the log upon which we sat. We made no inquiries of Taylor as to the cause of his lameness, supposing he could not tell us more than we knew already.

One or two observations were made respecting the bad condition of the road, after which we began eating our midnight lunch. When we had finished eating we gathered our things and started. Trippe and I were ahead, and had reached the road and gone on it a few steps. Wood and Sutherland were closely following us. Sutherland looked back and saw Smith coming, but did not see Taylor. Sutherland then asked, "Smith, where is Taylor? an't he coming?" Smith answered, "I thought he was following me;" and then looked behind and called aloud, "Come on, Taylor." Smith not understanding Taylor's reply, went back to him. On being asked why he had not started, Taylor said he was unable to go any farther, as his broken leg had failed him. Smith at once called to us to come back to the place where Taylor was. We did so. It was painfully apparent that he could go no farther that night. We learned for the first time that he had been wounded in the leg, and had one of its bones broken. He was not a Chickamauga prisoner, but had been wounded and captured at or near Leesburg, Virginia, in a cavalry engagement, early in July, 1863, at the time of the battles of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. During our four or five weeks' association with him it so happened we had not learned of his wound.

We at once concluded that our travels for that night were at an end, and began looking around for a place in which to lie over until the following night. When Taylor heard our determination he objected, saying he felt sure he would not be able to travel by the following night, and might not be able to renew the journey for a week. He would not consent that we should remain with him until the next night, unless he knew he would be able to go on with us by that time. We insisted on waiting with him as long as that, as we should lose only three hours' time by so doing. Taylor still objected, saying he would not detain us a single hour, and if we failed in reaching the lines, it should not be laid to his charge. We determined to remain, when Taylor assured us he could not travel for at least three or four nights, and was unwilling to feel himself responsible for the consequences that might ensue from so long a detention of our party. We then offered to divide our party, to leave two with Taylor, and let the other three go on. But he objected to this proposal also, saying he would not delay a single one of us, and probably be the cause, immediate or remote, of the return of that one to prison. He would rather take his chances of ultimately reaching the lines alone, and feel clear of responsibility for any accident or disaster that might overtake us than to do otherwise.

We had offered fairly, as we thought, and concluding Taylor knew the nature and extent of his disability much better than we did, we determined to leave the case to him. If he said remain, we would cheerfully do so; or if he said for us to go on and leave him behind, we would do that regretfully. Taylor then said for us to lose no time on his account, but to push on to the Union lines, and make our escape good. It required but a few moments to arrange for resuming our journey, and to advise Taylor as to the best course to pursue; to say to him the parting good-by, and leave him behind. The mush in the pillow-slip, all the provisions we had, except a little salt, was then taken out and divided into six parts. The largest part was given to Taylor. The other five parts were put in our haversacks. Nearly or quite half of the scrip on hand was given him, as he was going to tarry awhile in the Confederacy, and might use it to advantage. A portion of the salt was also given him. The canteen which had been used by our party so far on the trip, and which belonged to Taylor, was left with him. He had a watch and a supply of scrip to barter for food, or for the services of a guide, to conduct him to the lines, or both. With these, and with his canteen and haversack, we left him alone in the woods, wrapped in his overcoat and blanket. It was a sad and melancholy scene we witnessed in parting from Taylor. It was painful and trying to us to shake his hand, and say to him "good-by." Our feelings were similar to those occasioned by the fall of a comrade on the battle-field. We had left Taylor, and were getting into the road when we heard him say, "Company G, 2d Massachusetts Cavalry," giving his address, and asking us to write to him if we reached the lines. We each of us then gave him the name of the company and regiment to which we respectively belonged, so that he might write to us if he got through all right.

The substance of the advice we gave to Taylor was to remain where he was until daylight, at which time he could move to a better or more secure hiding-place, if able to do so, where he could command a view of the road, and see persons that might pass upon it. The first negro, or party of negroes, he saw passing, if no whites were with them, he was to hail, and beckon them to him and make his condition known, and get them to harbor him, or take him to some house where he could be harbored until he was able to renew his journey. If he saw no person pass during the day, he was to go in the evening in search of a habitation where assistance might be given him. When able to travel, he was to secure, if possible, the services of a guide, to conduct him to some point within or in the vicinity of the pickets or outposts of our army. He could reward his guide, if fortunate enough to secure one, with his watch and Confederate money.

It was the night of Friday, February 26, 1864, that we left Taylor behind. We left him within six miles of the Blue Ridge Mountain, at a point between eighty and one hundred miles south-west of Lynchburg, Va., and nearly three miles west of the pike leading to that place. We must have left him somewhere near the boundary line between Franklin and Bedford counties, Va., in the north-west corner of one, or in the south-east corner of the other. If it was trying to us to part with Taylor and leave him, it must have put his resolution and self-denial to a severe test to persist in being left alone in his crippled and almost helpless condition. On stopping he was warm, as the road was bad, and he had exerted himself to catch up with us. By sitting down in the snow, he cooled suddenly, and his lame leg became stiff and useless. His condition was critical and unenviable, as he was unable to move about with ease or comfort, and his supply of food was small in quantity and poor in quality. No house was near him. We had not passed a house since leaving the pike. The weather was cold, as the snow and mud was freezing. He was in a bleak mountain country alone. No friend was near him. We had been his friends and comrades, and were his friends still, but had forsaken him. His prospect was cheerless. His desponding heart had little on which to predicate a hope. He dreaded to meet a man of his own color, for fear of meeting an enemy, and in the mountain districts the blacks were few. The woods around him were dreary, although the ground was covered with snow, and the moon shone brightly. The trees with their leafless branches and skeleton shadows could be dimly seen, but were poor companions for a maimed and wearied traveler in an enemy's land. It was a touching, but a necessary or unavoidable incident of our journey to leave Taylor behind in the Winter, and in the wilderness, as a lonely and solitary sentinel in the silent watches of the night. But we could do no better, as our supply of provisions was nearly exhausted, and we could not recruit it, or seek assistance for him without jeopardizing his safety as well as our own. So we left him to whatever fate might fall to him in the merciful dispensation of Providence.

I have never heard from or of Taylor to this date, December, 1869. Whether he got able to travel, and succeeded in making his escape from the Confederacy, or whether he was recaptured and returned to prison, is not known to me. He may have perished from starvation where we left him, on account of inability to get away from there.