We rested in the gorge for the space of half an hour. Soon after leaving it we reached the valley. We crossed the valley, and immediately began the ascent of another ridge, and on gaining its summit we could see a town in the distance to the west of us. We ascertained, late in the day, that the town was New Castle, Craig county, Virginia. We went down the mountain-side into another valley, and then changed our course, and followed up the valley in a direction a little east of north. In passing through a dense thicket we came to a dilapidated rail-fence. We crossed the fence, and soon emerged from the thicket into more open ground. We were bearing considerably to the east, following around the thicket, when we suddenly came upon a hut. Three or four children were at play near the door. They saw us and ran into the house immediately, when two women appeared at the door and gazed at us in apparent amazement. As it was growing late, the sun having gone down, we knew the women could bring no harm upon us, and we approached the humble dwelling and entered it without waiting for an invitation. We took seats, and opened the conversation by telling the women to set before us, on the table, what they had cooked, as we were hungry, and had nothing to eat. The women complied, setting out a few slices of cold boiled meat, a couple of corn-dodgers, and four bowls of milk. We sat around the table and eat all that had been placed upon it. After eating we told the women that was the first milk, with one exception, we had drank for many months, and that was the first bread we had eaten for two days.

The women seemed very much astonished, and inquired who we were, and where we were from. We told them we had been prisoners at Danville, Virginia, and were now trying to make our way through the mountains to the Union lines. They then apologized to us for the scantiness of the meal they had given us, saying they thought we were Confederate guards from New Castle. We also apologized to them for ordering them, in so abrupt a manner, to set out supper for us, saying we thought they were "Secesh." The women then called for "Jim" to come out from under the bed. "Jim" immediately came forth. On our approach he had hid under the bed, thinking we were Confederate home guards. Jim was a deserter from Buckner's army in East Tennessee. We told these Unionists of the event of the afternoon; of our being pursued, and of losing one of our number in our flight. They seemed to manifest much anxiety on account of the lost one, and asked us many questions concerning him.

We inquired if there was any good Union man living in the valley of whom we could procure provisions to carry with us. We were told that "Jeemes" Huffman lived four miles up the branch, and could furnish us with provisions. A path was pointed out to us that led up to Huffman's house. Just at dusk we bid our Union friends "good evening" and set out, intending to give Huffman a call. About half the distance had been gone over when darkness fully set in. After dark our progress was much slower in following the strange and devious pathway. Near nine o'clock, P. M., we saw the light of a fire, shining dimly through Huffman's window. We crossed a fence and followed the path a short distance up the mountain-side to the house. The door was standing open, and we entered and stood before Huffman and his wife. They were not a little surprised, and seemed doubtful as to the manner in which they should treat us. We were soon seated before the fire, however, and began to acquaint Huffman with our condition and necessities. Having heard with interest our narrative of the facts in our case the woman asked if we would have supper. We answered in the affirmative, and she went to work, and by ten o'clock, P. M., we sat down to a table bountifully supplied with food.

While eating we learned from Huffman that he lived two and a half miles from New Castle, Craig county. We learned, also, that the home guards at New Castle searched the premises of the mountaineers every two weeks for deserters from the Confederate army. When we first entered the house Huffman supposed we were home guards from New Castle, and the hesitancy on his part to avow, at first, his Union sentiments, was the result. Huffman said it had been two weeks since his house had been searched, and he was in hourly expectation of the guards. As Huffman was engaged in shelling corn, we asked of him the privilege of shelling a few ears to carry with us to eat on the morrow. This favor was readily granted, and some three or four dozens of Irish potatoes were also furnished us.

Near eleven o'clock on that night of March 4th we were ready to set out again on our travels. Huffman gave us directions how to get across Craig's Creek, and how to avoid a certain house, which he described, where a Rebel family lived, and where the home guards sometimes stopped, when out on their semi-monthly rounds. After bidding Huffman and his wife good-night, we left them, and followed, as well as we could, the directions we had received. It had become very dark and cloudy, and before we reached Craig's Creek it began raining, and we found it impossible to follow the directions Huffman had given us. But we pushed on in the darkness, and in the course of an hour we reached the stream. We found we were considerably off the track, having missed the crossing Huffman had described. We spent half an hour or more in wandering up and down the creek, looking carefully for the crossing, but failed to find it. We spent another half hour in procuring a stout staff, or stick, apiece, to be used in the stream while wading it. Having supplied ourselves, we plunged into the waters of the creek, steadying ourselves against the swift current with our sticks as best we could.

It was very dark, and the rain continued falling. To add to the difficulty of crossing, we found that the bed or bottom of the creek was very treacherous, being full of rocks and holes. We found the water very cold, and the current strong and swift. We stumbled often, and came near falling into the water, but finally got safely across, with a thorough and cold wetting. All our clothing was wet, and dripping with water, as we stood upon the bank. We took off our blouses and wrung the water from them. After re-arranging our things, we set out again in a northern direction, following up the valley. We found it necessary to walk briskly before morning, in order to excite warmth of body to dry our clothing. As we had not crossed the creek at the point where we had expected to do so, we had avoided the house which was the rendezvous of the Rebel guards. A road was soon reached, on which we walked with much energy, and the clothing next our bodies soon became dry of the dampening effects of the plunging and stumbling in Craig's Creek. Daylight having broke upon us, we began looking for a hiding-place. Owing to the ill luck attending our first day's travel, we were induced to fall back on the old plan of lying by in day-time. As there were home guards in the country, we thought we should feel safer in trusting ourselves to the friendly shelter of the woods during the day.

Day-break found us on the road where it passed between two high ridges of mountains. There was no alternative but to hide far up in the side of the ridge east of the road. We began the ascent of the ridge, and were not long in gaining its summit; and on its eastern slope we halted for the day, among the huge rocks. In a short time we cleared a space sufficiently large for our bed. Our bedding was a little damp; but as we had lost much sleep in the last twenty hours, that circumstance did not hinder us from sleeping soundly. We slept until late in the day, when we made a fire preparatory to parching corn and roasting potatoes. We eat as much as we wished of the potatoes and corn, and finding we did not much relish such fare, since the excellent though late supper at Huffman's the night before, we determined to have something better to eat the next day, if possible. We resolved that the first house we came to, after setting out, should be the scene of an attempt, at least, to get some provisions. The time of starting having arrived, and all being in readiness, we crossed the summit of the ridge and descended to the road in the valley. We walked leisurely along the road, not wishing to reach the first house too early in the night. Near nine o'clock we came to a house on our left, a short distance from us. We heard music as we halted, and questioned the propriety of entering the house; but finally concluded not to forego our resolution to try our hand at procuring supplies. We crossed the rail-fence a few steps from the house, and went to the door. We opened the door, entered the house, and took seats without waiting to be asked to do so. Four or five children were seated before the fire. The oldest, a boy about fifteen years old, had been playing the violin. As we entered the house the mother of the children stepped out the back door, but did not close it entirely. The mother held the door slightly open, and listened to what we had to say to the children. On finding we talked kindly, she came into the room, and then we made known the object of our call at such a time. The woman represented herself as being very poor, with a sick husband and five children to provide for. She pointed to the bed in the corner in which her husband lay. On looking, we saw the unfortunate man, and conversed with him. We learned he had lost his health while serving in the Confederate army under Buckner. On account of disability, he had been discharged from service, and allowed to return to his family. He now belonged to a home guard company. In the course of the conversation, the sick man claimed he was really a Union man, but had been obliged to yield to the pressure of public opinion, and had been conscripted into the army. He now belonged to the home guards, to keep from being again sent to the front. He said he would gladly give us something to eat, but as it was beyond his ability to do so, he could only direct us to a man who could provide for us. After giving us particular directions how we should find the home of William Paxton, he said no more. We bade the sick man and family "good-night," and left the house. Before we had reached the fence, one of the children opening the door called out to us to wait a minute. We waited, and the boy brought us one corn-dodger. Taking it, we expressed our thanks, and went on our way.

On getting some distance from the house, we debated as to the propriety of seeking Paxton's aid. We feared Paxton was a Rebel. It seemed strange that a late follower of Buckner, and a Confederate home guard, should give directions to escaping Federals; but as he had given us bread from his limited supply and had told us just how to avoid and get around a certain house where Confederate guards often met, we concluded to follow his directions, if possible, and if we found things as represented, we would go to Paxton's.

It was seven miles to Paxton's house, which was situated on the road as it passed over a mountain. After going some four miles on the road, we came to the house where the Rebels congregated. It was near the road, and lights shone from all the windows. We passed some distance south of it, but near enough to hear the noise of revelry. At a point nearly two miles west of this house, we should have gone on the mountain; but owing to the indistinctness of the road, and the darkness of the night, we missed our way. When we found we were off the right track, we retraced our steps for over a mile. As it was near morning we began a careful search for the point where the mountain road led off to the left from the other, and found it just at day-break. We could now do nothing but look out for a hiding-place for the day, Sunday, March 6th.

According to the account of the sick man, we were hid but little more than a mile from Paxton's abode. Our retreat for the day was close to a spring, where we could wash and get water to drink. In the evening, fearing ramblers would come to the spring, we moved further from it. Having eaten our corn-dodger the preceding night, we were obliged to resort for subsistence to the remnant of roasted potatoes and corn left over from yesterday's fare. The day seemed long, but it wore away, and we took up our line of march, near nine o'clock, P. M., for Paxton's house. In less than two hour's time we came to a house answering the description we had received. We passed through the gate in front and approached the door. We rapped gently, and were invited by an old man to come in. As we were being seated, one of our party asked the old man if his name was Paxton. He answered that it was; and wished to know how and where we had learned his name. We told him, and he seemed much surprised, as our informant had been considered by him as a disunionist. All had retired to sleep at Paxton's excepting himself. We told him we wished something to eat, and he immediately called his two daughters to get our supper for us. Paxton knew we were Federals, and made no attempt to conceal his Union sentiments. While waiting for supper, we conversed on war topics, on prison life, and our trip since leaving prison. When supper was announced, we sat down to a table bountifully supplied with food. While we were eating, an old man stopped at Paxton's, who had been out from Fincastle, where he lived, to take a woman to her home in the country. This new-comer did not seem to notice us until we had finished supper and taken seats before the fire. As I was sitting next him, he took hold of my pants at the knee, and inquired rather roughly, "Where do you belong?" Not knowing what answer to make, under the circumstances, to such a question, I merely turned my head, and glanced at my three comrades, who in turn looked immediately to the old man Paxton, who very quickly spoke up saying, "They belong to the 22d, which you know is stationed at the bridge." Paxton immediately added, "They have been home on furlough, their time is up, and they are now on their way to the bridge." The old Fincastle man seemed satisfied with Paxton's explanation. One of our party soon after observed, as he was rising from his seat, "Well, boys, we must be off now; we must put in an appearance at the bridge as soon as possible." We then gathered our things and went out of the house. As we passed out, Paxton was seating the Fincastle man at the supper table. That done, he opened the door, and said to us, "Boys, you'll find it cold traveling over the mountain to-night."

"Yes," said Wood, laughing, "but we'll only walk the faster and get to the bridge sooner."

Paxton then came out, closing the door behind him. He told us the old fellow at the supper table was a notorious Rebel. As Paxton wished to get in the house as soon as possible, to attend to his Rebel guest, thus keeping down suspicion, he told us where and how to find the house of Robert Childs, who lived eleven miles from there. Childs, he said, was a good Union man, and his wife was a true Union woman, who would be glad to help us on our way. On getting over the mountain, and reaching a point about seven miles from Paxton's, we were to turn to our right, and go north four miles to another road, on which Childs lived.

We then set out anew on the night's travel. In two hours' time we had traveled, as we thought, about seven miles, and we called at a house and inquired of a negro how far we were from the road leading north to the mill. We were told it was half a mile east of there; and without delay we hastened back on the road a short distance, and began looking carefully for the turning off place. We soon found it, and also found much difficulty ahead of us. The road, it seemed, was a new one, having been cut but recently through a heavy wood. We made slow progress; we stumbled often over stumps and rocks. The moon was shining, but its light scarcely reached our pathway, as the dense woods closely hedged it in. We trudged slowly on, and reached Childs's Mill before day-break. The mill was near the point where the road we had been following intersected another running east and west. Although it was not yet day, we concluded to call on Childs at his house, tell him our wants, and ask him to show us where we could stop for the day and be safe.

We halted opposite the house, and Sutherland went into the yard and rapped at the door, but no answer came. He next attempted to raise a window, but a woman's voice protested against it. Sutherland then inquired if Childs was at home, and the woman answered that he was not. The woman's tone of voice plainly indicated that she was considerably frightened; so we determined to seek a hiding-place in the forest. When we had found a suitable place, we made our bed and lay down on it to sleep. Morning was faintly appearing when we lay down, and we heard chickens crowing in the distance. In about two hours' time we awoke, and found the sun shining brightly. We consulted briefly as to what we should do, and determined that one of our party should go back to Childs's house, to see if he had got home, and to get something to eat, as we had brought nothing with us from Paxton's on account of the presence of the Fincastle Rebel. Each of us was anxious to perform the errand, and we drew cuts to see which of us should go upon it. It fell to my lot, and I at once started.

As it was early in the morning, I encountered no persons upon the road. On reaching the house I rapped moderately at the door. Mrs. Childs first looked at me through the window, and then admitted me. I first told her I was one of those who had called at the house before day. I then asked her if her husband had got home. She answered that he had not. I asked when she expected him. She answered that he would be at home by ten o'clock in the day. She then inquired what business we were on, and what we wanted with her husband. I told her we had been prisoners of war at Danville, and had been trying for over two weeks to make our way through the Confederacy to the Federal forces. I told her of our stopping at Paxton's, and of his directing us to Robert Childs. At this Mrs. Childs seemed surprised, and remarked that Paxton would better be in other business than giving aid to Federals. Mrs. Childs talked very much like a Rebel, and though I could hardly understand the situation, I felt no uneasiness. After further talking I asked her if she could furnish us something to eat. She said she supposed she could, but wasn't in the habit of feeding roving squads of soldiers. She then asked me to sit up to the table and eat with her; but I declined, telling her if she would allow me to carry a dishful to the woods, and share it with my comrades, I would be thankful. Mrs. Childs and her children eat their breakfast, while I sat by keeping up the talk with her. Shortly after finishing her meal, Mrs. Childs gathered what she had left on a large dish and gave it to me. I thanked her, and told her there must be a mistake somewhere, as we had found things very different from what Paxton had represented.

"Paxton don't know every thing," said Mrs. Childs.

"Time alone will settle the matter," said I. I told the woman where we were hid, and asked her to send her husband to see us when he returned. She answered that she would do so.

"If you will," said I, "we shall have a friendly talk with him, do him no harm, and send your dish back to you."

I then returned to our retreat in the woods. On the way I felt, from some cause, that Paxton was not mistaken in his opinion of Mrs. Childs, and that some recent development had made necessary her avowal of disunion sentiments. We found the provisions furnished by Mrs. Childs very acceptable, whether she was a secessionist or not. After finishing our meal we spent the time in conjecturing the cause of Mrs. Childs's strange conduct, if she was really a Union woman. We became satisfied that, for some reason yet to be explained, she had only pretended to be a devotee of the Confederacy.

Near noon Robert Childs came to us in the woods. He approached us with extreme caution, and looked as if he would rather not see us. We talked with him an hour or more. During the whole conversation he upheld the Confederacy. He could not imagine how Paxton got the impression he was a Union man or a disloyal citizen. We asked Childs if he should take any steps to recapture us. He replied that he would do nothing either to help or hinder us. To this we replied, that we could ask no more from a "Secesh." He started home when we gave him the dish, and told him we were grateful to his wife and to him for what we had received from them. We urged Childs to call on us again before night. He said he would if he had time, and then went homeward.

Near four o'clock, P. M., he came out again to see us, and remained with us until near sunset. The tenor of his conversation was the same as in the morning. He had no word of encouragement to give us, and, of course, offered us no assistance. It was growing late, and we began getting ready to travel. We continued talking with Childs, however, and Smith said to him,

"I suppose you haven't reported us, have you?"

"I've seen nobody to report to," he answered.

"Hasn't any one been to mill?" inquired Smith.

"O, one or two," answered Childs, "but they were in a hurry, and didn't stay long?"

"You didn't say any thing about us, then?" asked Wood.

"I didn't say a word about you to any body," said Childs.

Sutherland then said, "I'll be switched if I don't believe he is a Union man after all."

Childs manifesting some uneasiness, then said in an emphatic manner, "Don't fool yourselves about that, boys."

Sutherland then asked, "Did you ever see or hear of any Yankee prisoners escaping through here before?"

Childs said he had heard of a squad passing through about six weeks before.

"How many were there in the squad?" Smith inquired.

"Only two, I believe," was the reply.

"I'll bet," said Smith, "they were Davis and Tige; they left the hospital about two months ago."

Childs seemed to evince unusual interest in this remark of Smith's. Sutherland then said, "I wonder where Davis and Tige are by this time?"

"O, they've got through before now," I replied.

"Unless they've been caught and sent back," added Sutherland.

Childs then inquired rather anxiously who Davis and Tige were. We told him who they were, where we had known them, and described them particularly. Davis had been steward at the hospital near Danville, and Tige had been a nurse. Childs then recanted his secession doctrines, and confessed he was a Union man, and had harbored Davis and Tige for three or four days. He also explained in full the reasons for his conduct toward us in pretending to be a Rebel.

It seems the Confederate commander in that district—General Echols, I think it was—had adopted a plan of ascertaining who were aiding Federal prisoners in their efforts to escape. He had dressed small squads of his men in tattered Federal uniforms, armed them with weapons concealed about their persons, and had sent them over the country to such persons as were suspected of Unionism; to whom they would apply for food and other assistance in making their way to the Union lines. These squads were called "bogus Yankees" by the Union people, who learned to keep continually on the guard against falling victims to their deceptive practices. Many true Union citizens of the South were made prisoners by the "bogus Yankees," taken from their homes, and imprisoned at Richmond, Atlanta, and other points, for many months.

Childs thought we were "bogus," and was glad enough to help us when he found the contrary was true. Paxton had not yet learned of the "bogus Yankees," and Childs had only been put on his guard a day or two before by hearing of the arrest and carrying off in irons of one of his Union friends, who had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the impostors. Childs said he would take it upon himself to go and see his friend Paxton, and warn him of the danger of playing into false hands. Robert Childs, in treating us as he had, only thought he was evading arrest and a hopeless imprisonment. He first assured himself of our genuineness; then, knowing our actual need of assistance, he did not withhold it. It was purely accidental—perhaps Providential—that our real character became known to Childs. The allusion to Davis and Tige was the merest accident in the world, but proved sufficiently powerful to dispel the mystery we had been unable to solve.

The day, March 7th, was drawing to its close. It was time for us to resume our secret march. Before we set out Childs went to his house and brought us enough provisions for one meal, which was all that we required, as he then gave us particular directions as to how we should find the house of David Hepler, another good Union man, only eight miles away. We then parted with Childs, who had so recently proved our friend, in a better mood than we had anticipated an hour before. We were sorry we could remain no longer with him after he had found us also true, and of the number in whom he could confide.