It was near sunset when we separated from Childs. Just before dark we felt uncertain as to whether we had not got off the route to Hepler's. As there was a house a short distance to our left, we concluded to inquire the way, as we preferred risking a little to getting bewildered in the darkness. We found one young woman and two older ones at the house. On seeing us they seemed badly scared, and were about to forsake their dwelling as we entered it, leaving us in full possession. After some entreaty on our part, the young woman came in cautiously and deferentially, and was followed by the older ones. Our inquiries were principally addressed to the young woman, the older ones standing near gazing in mute astonishment. In the course of the talk we had occasion to acknowledge that we were Yankees, when one of the old women blurted out, "I'd say! I thought they had horns."

"We do have, sometimes," said Wood, "but not lately."

On gaining the information desired, we resumed our journey. By eight o'clock we had traversed the rough, broken country lying between Childs's and Hepler's house. We found Hepler on the look out for false Unionists; but as Childs had told us Davis and Tige had been befriended by him—Hepler—we found no difficulty in proving our genuineness to him. Near nine o'clock we took supper at Hepler's table, and after a two hours' talk, we were comfortably lodged in his house. After breakfasting the next morning, having got ready to set forth again on our journey, we bade Hepler's family adieu, and he conducted us to the top of a lofty range of mountains, at the base of which his house stood. Having reached the highest elevation in the mountain, Hepler pointed out to us another range upon which the home of William Lewis was situated. The exact locality of Lewis's house was pointed out, although we could scarcely see it, and were eight and a half miles distant. Hepler told us we could go to Lewis's in day-time without much risk, but it would be impossible for strangers to go over the route by night. He also informed us that it was probable we could get Lewis to guide us a portion of, if not all, the way to the Federal lines. On hearing some further instructions to enable us to find our way more easily, we bade our friend adieu, and left him. It was fully ten o'clock in the day when we set out on our journey to Lewis's house. We crossed two ridges, as many valleys, and many small rivulets of the mountains before reaching our objective point. On commencing the ascent of a third ridge, we found a path of which Hepler had spoken. We then knew we were on the ridge upon which we would find the house of a friend. We took the path as a guide, and followed its devious course. When little more than half-way up the mountain side we met two men and a woman and child. The men were on foot. The woman, with her child in her arms, was on horseback. The largest man was carefully leading the horse down the mountain path. No word was spoken at this meeting, each party maintaining silence and casting suspicious glances at the other. Soon after we gained the top of the ridge, and came in sight of Lewis's house, situated in a bowl-shaped depression in the top of the mountain. We did not wish to go to the house while it was yet day, for fear of finding some Secessionist there, and thus placing Lewis as well as ourselves in an embarrassing situation. We went aside from the path nearly two hundred yards, and hid in the brush. We found we had stopped in a place from which we could watch the house. Our position also commanded a view of the path we had just left, and of persons that might pass upon it.

It was near four o'clock, P. M., when we halted. We kept our eyes at intervals on the house and its immediate surroundings, but saw no person during the evening. One dog, a calf, and a few chickens, were the only living objects visible. The doors of the house were closed, and we concluded Lewis and his family had gone from home; but as smoke was issuing from the chimney, we hoped they would return by dark. We feared the man we had met leading the horse was Lewis with his family, going with a friend to make a visit. If so, we should be delayed, we thought, in our journey, and be compelled to push on without seeing him. We decided to wait until dark in our hiding-place, and see if Lewis would return. Just after sunset the man we had met on the mountain, leading the horse, went along the path to Lewis's premises. He was leading a horse, and was accompanied by two other men, each leading horses. They first put their horses in the stable and fed them. They then chopped some wood at the wood-pile and carried it to the house. Darkness came on, and we saw sparks flying from the chimney top. Feelings of joyous gratitude heaved our bosoms as we felt certain we should soon meet Lewis and enjoy the company and consolations of a native thorough-bred Union man. We were destined to meet with disappointment, however, and to experience difficulties from which a mere allusion to Davis and Tige would not relieve us.

In less than an hour after dark we left our position in the thicket and went to the house. We knocked three times before we were told to come in. With a show of reluctance on the part of the three men, we were furnished seats near the fire. Wood, addressing the largest of the men, asked, "Your name is Lewis, I suppose?"

"No, but Lewis is a brother-in-law of mine," was the answer.

"Well, this is Lewis's house, is it?" Wood asked. "We were told it was."

"Where is Lewis?" inquired Sutherland.

"I don't know," said the man, "he hasn't been at home for several days."

"What's your name?" continued Sutherland.

"My name is Hepler."

"Are you akin to David Hepler?" Sutherland asked.

"Yes, David Hepler is my father," replied the man, at the same time turning very pale.

Judging Hepler was fearful some great calamity had befallen his father through the agency of "bogus Yankees," I said, "You think we are Rebels," and Smith immediately added, "We have not harmed a hair of your father's head."

We assured Hepler we were real Union soldiers, honestly endeavoring to make our way from prison to our lines.

"I don't know so well about that," said Hepler, "but as for myself, I belong to the Confederate army."

We then told him we knew he belonged to the Confederate army, and knew, too, that he was a Union man, having been informed of those facts by his father. David Hepler had told us how his son, in the earlier months of the war, had hid himself among the rocks and caverns of the mountains for more than eighteen months, and how at last he was caught by the Rebels and conscripted into the army.

We spent some time, two hours at least, in trying to convince young Hepler we were not "bogus," but all in vain. He said he knew what he was, and supposed we knew what we were, and was going to have nothing to do with Federal prisoners, unless it would be to catch them and take them to Jim Crow's. As he spoke thus he directed our attention to a stack of guns in the corner.

"There's as many of us as there is of you," suggested Wood, "when it comes to that."

"Jim Crow's" was a small town a few miles distant, as we afterward learned.

We became satisfied that our efforts to procure assistance, or derive information from young Hepler and his associates would prove unavailing, as they refused to answer our questions as to the roads, the streams, or the nature of the country west and north of us, and refused us the shelter of the house until morning. We, however, understood the situation perfectly, knowing that the only difficulty with us was our inability to furnish satisfactory proof of our genuineness as real "Yankees." Hepler having been absent in the service, knew nothing of Davis and Tige, or of the aid his father had rendered them, and our telling him of them was of no avail. We could not establish our character as escaping Federals to the satisfaction of those who, we knew, would have been our friends could we have done so, but were compelled to leave them under the impression we were really soldiers of the Confederacy.

Near eleven o'clock that night, March 8th, we left the house of Lewis not a little discomfited. Where we had expected assistance and encouragement we met only with disappointment and defeat. We felt our defeat more keenly in consequence of the certainty we felt that Hepler and his associates would have been quite willing, even anxious, to aid us on our way had they been assured beyond a doubt as to our real character.

After we had gone out of the house we halted at the fence, a few steps from the door, and consulted briefly as to the course to pursue. Our situation was critical in the extreme. We were in Alleghany county, in the midst of the rugged and barren mountains, where the country was thinly inhabited. We had no supplies with us, as we had left David Hepler's expecting to get food at Lewis's. We soon determined to return to David Hepler's, tell him of the situation at Lewis's house, and see if he could give us other directions to follow. Smith suggested that young Hepler might be willing to go with us to his father if we should wait until morning. Smith called to him to come out, saying, "We wish to talk with you."

Hepler did not come out; but on being called the third time he came to the door and said, "Kill me in the house if you want to; I sha'n't come out there to be killed."

We were trying to assure him that we would do him no harm when he closed the door in our faces and barred it. We then started away from the house, going about a mile east of it. Near the mountain top we halted until daylight of March 9th. The sky was overcast with clouds, threatening rain, when we stopped, and we felt very much disheartened. Our hopes were exultant before going to Lewis's house. We expected to get assistance there, and possibly a guide to conduct us on our way; but all had failed. We felt we had been turned empty away from the house of a friend, and Nature it seemed was about to frown on us. We came near regretting the start we had made from prison. One consolation, however, was left us; if there was any change in our prospects it would be for the better.

We made preparations for sleep, but there was little sleep for us that night. Before day rain commenced falling, and we were obliged to fold our blankets, to keep them as dry as possible. We leaned against trees, and so disposed our coats over our shoulders as to shed most of the rain off until daylight. As soon as we could see our way plainly we set out on our return to David Hepler's. We had a very disagreeable time in walking over the mountains in a drenching rain shower. We reached Hepler's just at twelve o'clock. We found him at home. He was very much surprised, even astonished, at seeing us again. He even dreaded to see us, as he at once concluded his time had come to surrender himself a prisoner into the hands of sham Yankees, his country's worst enemies. We soon explained to him the reason for our return, telling him all that had transpired since separating from him the morning before. He immediately conjectured that Lewis had fallen a victim to "bogus Yankees," and said he would go to-morrow to see his son, with whom we had met at Lewis's house, and ascertain what had become of him. After taking dinner with Hepler's family we went some distance up the mountain-side and hid ourselves among the rocks. The rain continued; but we could not shelter under Hepler's roof, as it would not do, either for Hepler or ourselves, to be found there by Rebel citizens. Near night our suppers were brought to us by Hepler. Soon after dark we took refuge from the storm in a small log hut near the road, which passed through Hepler's premises. Early in the morning of March 10th we breakfasted at Hepler's table, and soon after hid for the day among the rocks of the mountains. At noon our dinner was brought to us by Hepler's wife and daughter.

At night Hepler brought our suppers out, and reported the information he had received from his son concerning Lewis. As had been conjectured, a squad of Confederates had called at Lewis's house, and solicited his services as a guide to conduct them to the Union lines. As they were dressed in blue, and represented themselves as Federal prisoners trying to escape, Lewis consented to conduct them as far as Greenbrier River. After the necessary preparations, he started with them from his house, and, when only a few hundred yards away, these "bogus Yankees" suddenly presented their revolvers and made him their prisoner. His captors conducted him to White Sulphur Springs, and from that place he was sent, in company with three or four others, under a strong guard, to Richmond.

David Hepler's son was a brother-in-law of Lewis. At the time we were at Lewis's house, young Hepler and those with him had come there to get the household goods belonging to the family, intending to carry them over the mountain on horses the next morning. It was young Hepler, with Lewis's wife and child, accompanied by another person, that we had met on the mountain. Mrs. Lewis and her child, and the plunder, were moved to her father's house, to remain during her husband's captivity, or longer if he died. Had young Hepler known we were not "bogus," and not trying to deceive him, we could have had all the provisions we desired when at Lewis's house, and could have been sheltered there until morning. But, unhappily, we had been unable to convince him of our honesty of purpose, and as he was determined to avoid the calamity which had befallen his brother-in-law, he felt obliged to deny us all "aid and comfort."

In the evening of March 10th the rain ceased and the weather became cooler. On the morning of the 11th the mountains were covered with snow. During the day the snow melted away, and the mountain streams became swollen and almost impassable. While waiting for the waters to subside, we mended our shoes and other clothing, and washed our shirts. The pegs and other materials for cobbling were furnished by Hepler. We parched a quantity of corn, to carry with us on going forth anew on our journey. During our stay Hepler tried to procure a guide to conduct us to the lines, but failed. One man whom he tried to enlist in our behalf, although a good Union man, refused to have any thing to do with us, alleging we would yet prove spurious. Hepler would have guided us as far as the Greenbrier River, had not his aged parents, who were in a feeble condition, been under his care.

On the morning of March 12th we took leave of Hepler and his family. In our most cheerless hour of adversity we had found with them a harboring place. They befriended us when we were encompassed by enemies and suspected by friends. During the days of rain and snow, and swollen streams, we incurred a debt we can not easily repay. We are under lasting obligations to them. Having been provided with sufficient food to last us two days, we set out for the lines afresh. Hepler could send us to no one who could direct us on our way, and we went westward until we came to Lewis's house. We reached it before three o'clock in the evening. We watched in its vicinity for over an hour, and saw no one; not even the dog, the calf, or smoke curling from the chimney, could be seen as when we had watched it before. We went to it, and finding the doors securely fastened, we judged there was something inside worth looking after. We thought we might get a supply of provisions that would partially compensate us for the disappointment of our first visit to the house. We entered it through the window, and levied on all we could find that would do to eat. A small sack nearly full of meal, a cup of salt, a part of a ham of meat and a ham of venison, were obtained as the fruits of our seizure. We got out of the house with our commissary stores, taking an iron pot with us, and went west about a mile into a gorge through which ran a small stream of water. Here we halted, built a fire, and made mush by the quantity. After eating to our satisfaction, we had enough left for breakfast the next morning. By ten o'clock that night we had made our arrangements for a comfortable sleep. We rested well.

With the first dawning of morning light on the 13th, Wood and Sutherland returned to Lewis's house and got four case-knives, one for each of our party, a file, and a tin cup. The file we thought would be of use in loosening canoes or in opening smoke-houses as a last resort in procuring food. We completed our preparations for the day's travel, and were on our way shortly after sunrise. The country traversed was very rough and mountainous, being little more than a barren waste. It would have been impossible for us to have made our way over it in the night-time. We saw no person during the day. When following high ridges we occasionally saw huts and houses in the valley on either side below us. Sometimes we could see smoke when the house or chimney from which it came was concealed. Just after sunset we halted in a depression of the ridge we had been following, prepared our suppers, and made ready for the night's rest. As near as we could estimate, we had traveled during the day about fourteen miles in a north-west course. The night was passed in quiet sleep.

On the morning of the 14th we awoke before day. On getting up we rebuilt our fire, and hastily prepared our breakfast. Soon after we were equipped for our day's journey. We were in excellent spirits. We could but contrast our feelings with those we had experienced in the early morning, after our signal disappointment at Lewis's house. Then we were discouraged and baffled, now we were cheerful and hopeful. The sky was clear, the air was pure and bracing, and we made good progress. We traveled quite fifteen miles in a direction a little north of west, over the ridges, valleys, and streams of the mountain districts. At night we halted in the valley, where water was convenient. After making a fire, we spent an hour or more in preparing and eating our suppers. Our sleep during the night was refreshing.

Before sunrise on the 15th we had finished our breakfast. Our provisions were not yet exhausted, and there was no need of running any risks in replenishing our stock. We traveled only about six miles before discovering that the country became more open and more thickly settled. It was prudent for us to go no further in day-time. We accordingly looked about for a safe retreat for the residue of the day. After finding a place in the woods in which we thought we could trust ourselves, we devoted the greater part of the day to sleep, as we expected to travel at night. Just at dark we were ready to move. The first thing necessary on setting out was to find a road on which to travel. Our journeyings of the past three days had been off the roads, across mountains and valleys, in a rough, broken country, almost inaccessible to travelers except on foot or on horseback. We found much difficulty in finding a road that would lead us aright. We kept on the move, however, taking care that our steps should be toward the goal we wished to gain.

A little after midnight we halted, as the sky became cloudy, and we could not see our way plainly before us. We went some distance north of the last road we had been following, and made our bed in the woods. Very soon after lying down we fell asleep. On waking up on the morning of the 16th, we found the ground covered with snow. Getting up we found the air very cool. We set about collecting suitable material for building a fire, but on searching for our matches we found we had lost them. As it was too cool for comfort without briskly exercising ourselves, we determined to set out in a northern direction.

After getting our things in readiness we started through the woods. We had proceeded but little more than a mile before we reached an open space. In crossing it we noticed not far to our left, just beyond the crest of a hill, a small log cabin. Smoke was issuing from the mud and stick chimney and curling gently upward. After a moment's deliberation we concluded we should hazard little in visiting the tenants of this humble abode and warming at their fire. We did so, and found the two women and one boy whom we found there to be friendly and disposed to make us comfortable. While waiting half an hour for a warm breakfast we learned we were in Greenbrier county, and within three miles of the Greenbrier River. Having ascertained that the folks were Unionists, we questioned them concerning the people in the surrounding country. We learned that the Rebel element held sway and that the few Union people were obliged to keep their sentiments to themselves.

Breakfast over, we set out again on our travels. Before leaving the cabin we discovered that snow had commenced falling. We had not gone far until the large flakes almost blinded us as they fell. We felt certain no one would be out on such a wintery day, and we thought we should incur but little risk in pushing forward to the river. Near ten o'clock we reached it, and began looking up and down the bank for a canoe in which to cross. After the snow had almost ceased falling, we were passing through a sugar-camp and came suddenly to two women, who were turning the troughs over. As they had seen us plainly, we being within a few yards of them when we first noticed them, we did not try to avoid them. We approached nearer the women, and one of our party made some observation on the state of the weather, and Sutherland added, "It's a bad day to be out." One of the women, smiling, answered, "I'll guess you are out a good piece from home."

On being questioned further, we told the women who we were, where we were from, and the point we were aiming to reach. They told us their "men folks" were in the Kanawha Valley, which was within the Union lines. We were not long in assuring ourselves that the women, as well as their "men folks," were strong Unionists. We were invited to the house. We accepted the invitation, and were soon seated before the fire, where we remained for a few minutes. Just before noon the women told us they were poor and unable to furnish us a meal, but Mrs. Mann, who lived about a mile back from the river, was not only able, but willing to keep us over until the following night, if we wished to stop so long as that. The eldest woman had already gone to Mrs. Mann's to see if any Secessionists were there. She soon returned, accompanied by two of Mrs. Mann's little boys, who were to conduct us by an obscure way to their mother's house. As no one was at Mrs. Mann's, we started immediately to her house, her boys leading the way. These boys were quite young—aged about nine and eleven years—but seemed to understand perfectly the necessity of our keeping out of sight of the Rebels.

We arrived at the house of Mrs. Mann by one o'clock. A little after two o'clock we took dinner. The dinner reminded us of the days gone by, and made us think we were almost home again. After dinner we conversed at length with Mrs. Mann and her family, treating mainly of the war as it affected the Union people of the South. Mrs. Mann had been despoiled of much property during the war by Confederates; and soon after the breaking out of hostilities her husband had been arrested because he would not forsake his Union principles. He had been imprisoned at Richmond, where, after lingering a few months, he died.

In the evening a man was seen approaching the house. When he was near enough to be recognized it was ascertained that he was a Rebel, and we were sent upstairs forthwith, to remain there until he should leave. We were detained nearly an hour upstairs, when the "Secesh" having taken leave, we were permitted to come down, and were interrupted no more that evening.

A little after dark we had supper. Soon after supper we began our preparations for setting forth on our way, but Mrs. Mann urged us to stop until the following night. As we were considerably worn and fatigued, we decided, after a short consultation, to do so. We passed the night of March 16th in Mrs. Mann's haymow. We could not stop in the house for the reason that a Rebel doctor from Frankfort was expected there that night to see a sick child. On the morning of the 17th, after the doctor had gone, we returned to the house for breakfast, and remained there during the day. When any one was seen coming we went upstairs, being very careful not to leave any caps behind to excite inquiries.

About four o'clock, P. M., a young man called at Mrs. Mann's, who belonged to a Union family west of the river. He offered to conduct us, after dark, to a man who would guide us some distance on our way, and give us directions to follow which would lead us to Gauley River. We eagerly accepted the offer. Our delay of twenty-four hours, it seemed, was going to prove profitable. We had supper just at dark, and soon after our preparations for the journey were complete. Our haversacks were filled with food sufficient to last us two or three days. We tendered our sincere thanks to Mrs. Mann and family for generous treatment received, and bade them farewell.