Having parted with Taylor, our travels were resumed through the later hours of the night. Once or twice in traveling the distance of four, or four and a half miles, we almost concluded to return to him, but feared disaster might come upon us if we turned back. It soon became evident that daybreak was at hand, but we proceeded a mile farther before turning into the woods. The sun was just rising when we began making our bed, for the 27th of February, in a place surrounded by woods and brush. On lying down we fell asleep. We awoke about the middle of the afternoon. Shortly after arousing from our slumbers, we eat the last of our mush. A little salt was all we had left of the supplies we had received from our negro friends in Henry county. When, where, and how our next supply of food should be secured we did not know. We judged we should cross the mountain during the approaching night, and determined to give ourselves no concern on the score of rations until the valley on the other side was reached.

The sad event of the previous night formed the subject of our conversation for the evening. "It wouldn't surprise me a bit," said Wood, "if Taylor should beat us to the lines yet."

"He may," said Trippe, "if he lives through the first night or two, does well, and is lucky enough to secure the services of a good guide to take him through by the short cuts."

"Our lines will be down this way some of these days," said Smith.

"The only difficulty with Taylor," remarked Trippe, "will be in avoiding Rebel citizens and finding a true Union friend to care for him a few days."

"He must have nothing to do with any body but a negro," said Sutherland, "or he's a goner." "Boys," he continued, "supposing it should become necessary for us to separate into two squads, how'll we divide?"

"Draw cuts," answered Wood.

"If it should become necessary for us to separate," remarked Trippe, "it will most likely be under such circumstances as will forbid drawing cuts."

"Yes, boys," answered Wood, "we'll have to draw cuts now, and have the thing understood."

Five small sticks were accordingly prepared. They were of two different lengths. It being understood how the division should stand, we drew cuts. It was decided that Smith, Wood, and Sutherland should go in one direction, while Trippe and I should go in another. We determined, however, never to separate unless no other alternative would answer, and to push on and endeavor to reach our lines together.

At sunset we began arranging our things for journeying. As soon as it was dark we sought the road, and on reaching it we heard voices. We retired a few paces into the bushes and waited until a half dozen or more persons, mostly if not all colored, had passed by. "Now, boys," whispered Wood, as the women and children were passing, "here is a good chance to get something to eat." But we had decided to cross the mountains before looking after food, and allowed the opportunity to pass. We then set out on our ninth night of travel, and had gone but little more than a mile when we came to a considerable branch. We crossed it with but little trouble, and soon after passed near a house on the road whose occupants had not retired for the night. We got by the house without attracting attention, or at least without exciting curiosity. On following the road a little further, we found it commenced its winding ascent of the mountain, passing through a gap near the boundary line between Franklin and Bedford counties, Va. We had heard before leaving prison that the Blue Ridge Mountains were infested with bush-whackers. We had a wholesome dread of these, and advanced cautiously up the road, hoping, if there were any, we should hear or see them before they should hear or see us.

In little more than an hour's time we reached the highest point in the gap, over which the road passed. We met with no one to dispute our progress, and the descent of the western slope was immediately commenced. We had followed the road but a short distance down the mountain-side, when, on making a turn in the road, we saw a light ahead, apparently about one hundred yards distant from us. Judging it to be the light of a torch, or small fire, we halted, and, on doing so, we heard voices engaged in conversation. Trippe at once proposed going ahead alone a few yards to see what might be seen. We consented, and he did so. A few minutes of intense anxiety to us passed, as we imagined the reports concerning bush-whackers were about to be verified. Before Trippe returned we heard a door shut, the fire or light at the same time disappearing. We then knew there was a house, or hut of some kind, near the road, not far from us; but of the number and character of its occupants we were not so well informed.

On coming back to us Trippe reported a house down there, and the light we had seen was the light of a fire in the house. Trippe said, further, that some one was just leaving the house, and, as soon as that person had started off down the road, the conversation ceased, and the door of the house was closed. We waited a few minutes for the folks in the house to get to sleep, and for the person on the road ahead of us to get out of our way, when we again started forward. On coming to the house we found it a very small one, situated within a few steps of the road. Passing it without discovery, we slowly walked on, and in due time reached the valley below.

Near the foot or base of the ridge was what appeared to be a considerable stream of water; but on reaching it we found it to be more wide than deep. We went a short distance down stream and found four foot logs, from sixteen to twenty feet long, extending across the stream. On these we crossed, and on reaching the opposite side we halted for awhile to rest before proceeding to the road.

"If we only had some meat and bread," said Smith, "now would be a good time to eat it."

"This would be a good place, too," added Sutherland, "as water is handy."

"I guess we wouldn't be particular as to the place," observed Smith, "if we only had something to eat."

Being reminded of the fact that we were out of rations we resolved to try our luck at the first house that came in our way. We were not long in reaching one, probably not more than half an hour. As we had crossed the mountain without difficulty; as we felt glad we had not met with guerrillas—felt considerably hungry, and were, withal, much emboldened, we were not overcautious in our movements. Each of our party of five entered the yard through the gate in front, and on reaching the house—an old two-story frame house, unpainted—we rapped violently at the front door. There was no answer from within. We called and rapped repeatedly, but with the same results. We then passed around the house to its south side, where we found another door. Sutherland knocked loudly on it, but no response came. He then put his mouth to the string-hole and asked, "Is any body at home?"

A man inside answered, in a tone of voice indicating fright, "I guess there's somebody about."

"Why don't you get up, then?" asked Sutherland. "Nobody's going to hurt you."

"What do you want?" inquired the man.

"We want something to eat, and want you to get up and set about getting it forthwith," said Sutherland. He refused to even get out of bed, whereupon Sutherland demanded, "Shall we burst your door down?" and Wood added, "and come in and burst your noggin?"

The man said, "That rests with you," and inquired, "Who are you, and where are you going?"

"We are soldiers going to Rocky Mount Court-House," Sutherland answered.

"Go on over the mountain, and you will be fed in the morning," returned the man.

Preferring to risk our chances at the next house to doing any very rash or violent acts, we left this one, telling the man he showed a very poor quality of patriotism.

"If it was any other time, if it twas daylight, I might do something for you."

"We don't have to stand picket in the night-time; we don't have to march, skirmish, and frequently fight in the night-time, I suppose?" retorted Sutherland, in a very unamiable voice.

"And skedaddle in the night-time from such rusty Butternuts as you are," added Smith, in a tone just loud enough not to be heard by the man, as we were withdrawing from the yard.

We passed out of the yard through the gate to the road as quickly as we could, intending to hurry on our way. As Sutherland closed the gate he threatened the man with, "We shall report you when we get to Rocky Mount, mark that."

On starting forward on the road Wood observed, "We commenced too heavy on the gentleman: we got him so badly scared he didn't know what to do, or how to do it."

We kept up our conversation, dwelling chiefly on the causes, real and supposed, of our failure in procuring food, and of the method to be resorted to in supplying our necessities. It was agreed that Wood and I should try our hands at the next house. It was after midnight, and should we not reach the next house soon we decided not to disturb its inmates, as we must have time to get out of reach after so doing before hiding for the day.

In a few moments we halted in front of a house on the south of the road at a distance of sixty or seventy yards from it. Wood and I entered the yard and approached a door in the one-story part of the house, supposing the darkies slept there. On knocking slightly at the door, and hearing no answer, we jerked the latch string once or twice. A voice inside—which was undoubtedly that of an elderly white person—remonstrated strongly against being disturbed at so late an hour. Wood seeing the smoke-house a few steps to his left, went to examine it, and proceeded from thence to the yard south of the house.

At the same time I stepped upon the porch in front of the two-story part of the house, and walked on it until I discovered a pair of steps or stairs. On going up the steps I found the porch had a second story also. Just at the top of the steps was a doorway to the second story of the main building. I found the door fastened, when I called out, asking if any one was inside. A voice, plainly that of a negro, answered there was. I told him to get up, and come out doors, as there were some folks at the road who would like very much to see him. The negro declined, saying, "You can't come dat game on dis chile: Ise not coming out dar."

"Get out of bed and come to the string hole," said I, "I want to speak to you." He did so, when I said, "Put your ear to the string-hole." He complied; and in a loud, distinct whisper, I pronounced the word "Yankees." As soon as the negro could draw on his clothing, the bar of the door came down and he and I descended the steps into the yard.

On seeing us, Wood approached, saying to the negro, "Where did you come from?"

"Ise from Knoxville," was the answer.

"But just now, where did you come from just now?" asked Wood.

"From up in the loft," was the negro's reply.

"Come out to the road, old fellow," said I, "there's some more Yankees out there."

"Lord, massa! golly! dat so?" ejaculated the astonished negro.

We then went to the road accompanied by the negro. On rejoining Trippe, Smith, and Sutherland, at the point where we had left them, the last named, on seeing the negro, remarked, "You don't expect us to eat that fellow, do you?"

We lost no time in telling the negro what was wanting; that we were hungry and had no provisions. The negro said the cellar and smoke-house were locked, and the old master had the keys. We asked him how soon he could get something for us to eat. He replied, "In the mornin', 'fore massa and mistress gits up."

"How about the keys; don't the whites get up and unlock?"

"No, sah; we gits de keys, onfastens, and gits breakfast 'fore de white folks gits out o' bed," replied the negro.

On ascertaining beyond doubt that provisions would be furnished us in the morning, we had the negro conduct us to a safe hiding-place for the day, which was near at hand. He took us to a secure retreat in the midst of a large grove of heavy oak timber situated about a mile from the house, on the north of the road. In all directions from our hiding-place for the day—Sunday, February 28th—were open fields. The woods or grove we were in covered three or four hundred acres of land. Our camp for the day was close to a rivulet, and was immediately surrounded by tall dead grass; and a little further from us were numerous small trees and bushes. The negro told us he would fetch us breakfast by ten o'clock, and then hurried home.

It was an hour or more before day when we made our usual preparations for sleep. Soon after lying down we were lost in slumber. Near nine o'clock, A. M., we awoke from our slumbers and got up and washed our faces at the rivulet. Our toilet completed, we had not long to wait for the appearance of our negro friend, with a small basket of eatables, a pitcher of milk, and a mug of molasses. We fared sumptuously on wheat cakes, fried bacon, potatoes, molasses, and milk. When we had finished our meal the negro took the molasses and milk pitchers in his basket and went homeward. While eating we learned from the negro that we were in Roanoke county, and that the nearest town on the road we expected to travel was Big Lick, a station on the East Tennessee and Virginia Railroad.

Shortly after noon the negro came out and talked quite a while with us. He wished to know when we would have another meal brought out. We expressed our willingness to receive another meal at any time before sunset. We asked the negro how much provision he could furnish us to carry with us. He replied that he had not a good chance in day-time to get at the meat, flour, and potatoes, without being seen by his master or mistress, and at night he had no chance at all to secure any thing, as the cellar and smoke-house were always locked at dark by the whites, who kept the keys until morning.

The man on whose provision we were subsisting was named Schooler, or Schuyler. Being an original secessionist, he left Knoxville, Tennessee, and settled in Roanoke county, Virginia, where he would be less troubled with Federal troops. The negro had also lived in Knoxville, and had before seen Yankee soldiers. When he left us he went home, and soon returned with another supply of food for our present consumption. While we were eating, the negro informed us that Schooler, his master, had seen the man at whose house we had attempted to get rations on the previous night. The man told Schooler of the demonstrations we had made at his house before leaving it to go on over the mountain. Schooler in turn told the man that he, too, had been interrupted during the night, but the disturbers of his sleep had done no harm, and gone on, he knew not where.

Our supper finished, we had an understanding with the negro as to the place where we should receive the corn and meat. He then left us, and we rolled up our blankets and made other needful preparations for our tenth night's travel. Just at dark we started for the point designated to receive what provisions our negro host could provide for us. As we found him there with the corn and meat, we were not long delayed. We were told it was seven miles to Big Lick, and that Salem Court-House was nine miles west of that place. I gave the negro one of my blouses as a slight compensation for his services to us, and as a token of remembrance. We thanked the negro heartily for befriending us in the hour of need, and then put the corn, which was shelled, in our haversacks, and the meat in our pillow-slip, and started for the road, accompanied that far by the negro.

On reaching the road we bade our negro friend farewell and left him. We found the road better than we expected, and pushed forward rapidly, hoping to get around Big Lick by midnight. We had thought of bearing to our right and passing east of the place. As soon as we thought we had gone six miles we saw a few small houses not far ahead of us, and concluded to pass them before commencing our circuit around the town. When we were just opposite the first house, Wood supposed it to be the domicile of a negro family, and went to the door, opened it, and asked how far it was to Big Lick. "You are there now," was the answer given. Closing the door without asking any more questions, Wood hastily rejoined us at the road.

On finding we were in town we pushed on through it, walking silently and briskly. Near the railroad depot we halted, and after consulting briefly concluded to leave the road, so as to elude pursuers, fearing the man we had inquired of might be a white Rebel, and might collect a party to look after us in the morning. After leaving the road we reached in a few minutes' time the railroad bridge. We passed under the bridge, walking partly in the waters of the little stream which it spanned until we gained the woods north of the railroad. We then traveled due northward until the sky became cloudy, when it grew much darker, and we found great difficulty in making our way through strange woods, with no road to guide us.

Before morning it began raining, and the night became black and dismal in its last hours. We could scarcely proceed, but we kept on the move. Just at daylight we came to a road running east and west. It seemed to be a very public one. As it was raining hard we thought we should not be seen, and we crossed the road and pushed on northward something more than a mile, when we halted in the midst of a considerable forest of pines. Through this forest was a string of rail-fence, and as it was raining hard, so that we could not make our bed down on the ground, we placed rails across from one panel to another, on which we sat with our coats and blankets disposed about us so as to shed the water off as much as possible. In this manner we occupied two corners of the fence; three of us in one corner and two in the other.

Near noon we were compelled by the severity of the storm to seek shelter. We started and kept close to the fence on its north side, going in an easterly direction. In a few minutes we came to another fence, running north through open fields. We changed our course, and followed it until we came to a branch running in a south-east course. As the ground was much lower near the branch we could follow it and at the same time be screened from view. Soon we came in sight of a lone building to our left a short distance, in the edge of the woods. We went directly to it, and found it to be a tobacco-house. In it we found shelter from the rain, as the roof was good. We then took off our coats and blankets, and wrung the water from them. As there was a lot of corn-blades tied in bundles stacked in one corner of the room, we soon had a good resting-place. A small lot of tobacco leaves, hanging above our heads, soon attracted our attention, when the following conversation took place:

"There's some tobacco," said Smith. "I'll bet there will be somebody out here before night to look at it."

"Not while it rains this way," said Trippe.

"Well, let them come," said Wood, "it belongs to nobody but a darkie, any how."

"And when he comes out here we'll only have him to furnish us with more rations," said Sutherland.

"I'm only afraid he won't come," added Trippe.

There was no floor in the tobacco-house, and we cleared the corn-blades and straw from the center and built a fire. For fuel we used tobacco sticks, of which there was a large quantity piled up in a corner of the building. After burning enough sticks to make sufficient coals and ashes for the purpose, we went to parching corn. This we did by scattering the corn near the fire and raking hot ashes and coals over it. When the corn was parched sufficiently, we raked it from the ashes with small sticks. After eating all we wished of parched corn and broiled meat, we parched a lot of corn for future use.

The rain continued falling, and the day was far spent, when we came to the conclusion we should be compelled to lie over for the approaching night—February 29th. At dark we stretched our blankets on sticks around the fire, for the twofold purpose of drying them and concealing the fire. Soon we were obliged to allow the fire to go down, as its light shone against the roof and through the cracks of the building between the logs. We had seen but one house during the evening from where we were, and that was away some distance to the north of us. But for fear somebody would be passing, and see the light of our fire, and thus discover us, and publish the fact of our presence in the vicinity, we put it out entirely. Becoming reconciled to the necessity of stopping over for the night and following day, we thought we would make the best of it, and rest, and recuperate as much as possible in that time. So, taking time and pains, and a goodly quantity of corn-blades, we made us a good bed. A roof over our heads and the pelting rain-storm without were conducive to sleep, and the night was passed in quiet and repose.

We waked up shortly after daylight in the morning, but did not get out of bed until about eight o'clock, A. M. The rain had ceased, but clouds still overspread the sky, causing us to feel doubtful about getting off even that night. We went out one at a time to the pools of water, and washed our hands and faces. Soon after we built a fire and began parching corn, and broiling meat for breakfast and dinner. While thus engaged, Sutherland, looking through a crack between logs, espied an old negro approaching. As he was alone he gave us no concern, and we were not averse to his coming. Approaching nearer and nearer the building, the old negro finally came upon our trail and noticed our tracks. He followed them a few steps, when, discovering they led to the tobacco-house, he came to a halt. He watched the house closely for a moment or two, when hearing or seeing us, he turned to go back. Sutherland opened the door and said, "Hullo, old man! that'll never do; come in here, we'll not hurt you."

The old man turned about, and after further entreaty approached the house and entered it. He had come out to examine his tobacco. He was well stricken in years, being ninety years of age, having children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. On account of his age he was slow of speech and comprehension. We had trouble in getting him to understand who and what we were, and the situation in which we were placed. He did not seem, at first, to correctly understand the meaning of the term Yankee, but soon came to it, inquiring, "Is you uns some of them fellers that's penned up in the 'backer-houses in Richmond?" We answered that we were. We found it necessary to impress on his mind the necessity of keeping secret from the whites the fact of our presence in the country. Our need of procuring provisions from time to time was also explained to the old man. We urged the old man to either bring or send us some meat of some kind, if nothing else, and to have it at the tobacco-house by sunset. He promised to do so, and shortly after examining and arranging his tobacco, he went slowly on his way home. We finished our breakfast, and continued parching corn for awhile. A little before noon we laid-ourselves down, and slept until about three o'clock in the evening.

On getting up we finished parching corn, and then all the provisions we had with us were ready for eating. When we first got up the sky was partially clear, and by sunset it was cloudless. Just after sunset the old negro arrived with some six or eight pounds of meat, mostly boiled beef, the remainder being a small piece of side meat. A couple of corn-dodgers were also furnished us, which we set apart for our midnight meal. Having got our baggage, quartermaster and commissary stores, ready for the trip, we expressed our obligations to the aged negro who had befriended us, and bade him good-by. He then started home, and soon after we set out on our eleventh night's journey, March 1, 1864.

Finding the ground soft and well saturated with water, we thought we should do well if we trudged through eight or ten miles that night. On reaching the road, which had been pointed out to us by the negro, we found the walking much better than we expected, as the water could not so easily penetrate its hard surface. In a short time we passed the house where lived the owner of the plantation to which the tobacco-house in which we had been sheltering belonged. The house was near the road, and the lights in it were burning brightly. While we were passing the house the dogs began a lively barking, and kept it up until we had gone some distance, and crossed a creek, when we heard no more of them. Near midnight we halted at the road side amid a cluster of small trees, and eat some beef and corn-bread.

We soon resumed our travels. As we could not walk very rapidly, owing to the condition of the road, we put in the whole time until day-break, so that we could have it to say that we were at least eight or ten miles nearer our goal than when setting out. The road we were traveling bore northward in its general direction, but as the country on either side was covered with unfenced woods, it frequently deviated from its general course. At length day-break came, and we went to the left of the road in search of a secure hiding-place for the day, March 2, 1864.

The distance gone over during the night had not been more than eleven miles, or twelve at the furthest, but we were that distance further north, which was a gratifying feature of the night's journey. The ground being yet very damp, we were compelled to seek an open space in which to make our bed, and a quantity of brush and leaves on which to make it, so that our bedding should not get damp or muddy. A suitable hiding-place having been found, we collected leaves and brush from the adjacent woods, and made our bed on them, and retired to sleep for the day. We went about a mile from the road before locating our camp. It was further than may have been necessary, as the road was not a very public one, judging from appearances, and the country was very sparsely settled.

Some time in the evening we awoke and got up, finding the sky clear, and the weather mild for the time of year. We found we had not stopped convenient to water, but on looking around a little we found water not far off sufficient for our needs. As we had no use for fire we built none, but made a meal on parched corn and beef, and quietly awaited the approach of night. The evening was spent in conversation, dwelling chiefly on our trip, past and prospective. We talked of things that had taken place, which, if we had them to do over again, we should do differently; of some fork of the road or cross-road, where, if we were only there again, we would take a different course. Sometimes we would imagine certain things to happen us, and decide in our minds what we should do, should the event actually transpire. Our minds seemed always occupied, either with thoughts and reflections on the journey, so far as completed, or with plans and expedients for the journey yet before us.

At dark our luggage was fitted up in readiness for starting out on the twelfth night of our travels, being the thirteenth night out. In a half hour's time we were on the road, wending our way northward. We found the road had improved under the day's sunshine, and we were enabled to make better progress than we had made on the previous night. On coming to a cross-road near midnight we stopped a few minutes to eat a little and consult as to the course to take, north or west. It was evident that, no matter which course we took, we should soon reach the first ranges of the Alleghany Mountains. As we had previously determined to travel in day-time across the ridges, gorges, valleys, and barren wastes of those mountains, we thought we would turn west and reverse, as soon as possible, the order of our times of sleep and travel, sleeping at night and traveling in day-time. We accordingly turned our faces to the west. By so doing we did not reach the mountains as soon as we should have done had we continued in the northward course.

We spent another night and day, March 3, 1864, in the valley between the Blue Ridge and Alleghany Mountains. Nothing deserving of particular notice transpired during that day. An hour or more before day, on the early morning of March 4th, we came to a considerable stream, washing the base of one of the principal ridges of the Alleghanies. We had been traveling the greater part of the night over a very rough and hilly road, and were getting tired and sleepy. As we expected to begin traveling in day-time over the mountains on the day then approaching, in accordance with our previous programme, we determined not to cross the stream that night, or morning rather, and followed the road back a short distance to where the woods bordered it on the south. We then left the road and entered the woods, going in a south-east course a little more than a half mile. In a spot surrounded by small trees and bushes, where the surface of the ground was covered with rock large and small, we halted for the day, March 4th. We cleared the rocks from a small space, sufficiently large for our bed. We then made it and went to rest for a few hours.