When I got back to Murfreesboro it was necessary to know how many rebels were at Woodbury, and I went from General Rosecrans, under the direction of Captain Swaine, chief of scouts. I left our lines at Readyville, and went a mile or more, when I got an old woman to hide me in her house in a back room, where I slept till the moon went down; and then taking up a branch of Stone river, I slipped into the rebel lines without raising the slightest alarm. It was only about seven miles by the high road, but it was more than ten by way of the creek to my point of destination. I kept constantly in the creek bottom, until I was nearly opposite Woodbury, when I struck off to the hills which surround the town, and from which a full view could be had. I got to a good position on a hill, but could not see all that was going on. I waited till day light, in the hope that I could then see plainer; but I was disappointed in that, and at once resolved to change my quarters to another hill. To do this, I had to go down into a valley and walk across it, and then ascend the other elevation, in plain view of the reserve picket. I had a small glass, and was so near them that I could see the lint on their coats very distinctly, and I discovered they were eyeing me closely. I walked quickly out into the road, took a position, and began to walk a beat, as though I was standing sentinel. Presently a spruce looking old farmer came walking along, and supposing himself inside the pickets, he moved carelessly, and did not stop till the second "Halt," and an unmistakable motion of my gun claimed his attention. He seemed very much surprised to see a guard there, saying: "Nobody stopped me here yesterday."

"Well," said I, "I belong to a regiment which just came in last night, and the officer of the guard put me on this beat and told me to stop all persons going into the town unless they had proper papers." He at once showed me a pass from John Morgan's provost marshal, and I told him he was all right, and could go on. He was highly tickled at the eulogies I bestowed upon him, and before I let him go I managed to draw from him all that he had seen in Morgan's camp on the day before.

When he left, I told him it was probable that I might be relieved before he came back, but that he would find our camp just over the hill there, and pointed in an opposite direction from that I intended to go. I then resumed my walk upon the beat for a minute or two, when I affected to see something suspicious on the hill, which I started to go to, and raising my gun as though I intended to fire, I aimed at a fancied object; then lowering my piece, I pushed rapidly up, while the pickets watched me intently.

When on the top of the hill, I stopped again, and looked intently in the direction of the picket, and then passed around the summit with my carbine raised, as though I expected to see the object every instant; till, in a few minutes I turned the point of the hill, so they could see me no more, when I ran along the side for about half a mile; then climbing nearly to the top, I doubled my track and ran back, till nearly opposite the picket again; then getting down on my hands and knees, I crawled up the hill cautiously, and concealed myself in a hollow log which lay on the top.

I was now enabled to see the rebels in part of their encampment, and everything that passed, either on the Readyville road, or in Woodbury. It was very early in the morning of a tolerably cold day when I got in the log, and by night I was nearly frozen. During the day, I heard something running on the dry leaves outside, and I immediately prepared for a defense, thinking, perhaps, it might be a man who had seen me secrete myself. Suddenly, however, it sprung lightly upon the log and dropped itself through the opening right over my face; it was a coon, but it saw the place was occupied, and politely withdrew. Possibly I was intruding myself into its quarters, but as it did not wait to demand any apologies, I offered none. It was large and fat, and would have made a famous roast; but I had to lay still, for my neighbors on the hill were vigilant, and had they seen me for a second, they would have been after me with a sharp stick, which they would have applied without mercy.

That night I left my log, and took the back track for Readyville. I went across the country till I had passed the last of their picket fires, of which there appeared to be several lines, these being formed by Morgan's men, who was conscripting every man he could find. I passed very close to some of the posts—so near that I could hear the men talking in a low tone. At one place I chased two soldiers out of an old log house, who were inside talking to some females. As soon as I discovered they were in there, I secreted myself behind the chimney, and began "peeping" through the cracks. The fellows seemed to be on very friendly terms with the old man and his three daughters, the latter being very pretty, and at that time, putting on their sweetest smiles. I felt a little anxious to change places with the Johnnies about that time; or, if I had felt entirely assured that they would not have became "unlawful," I would have been content to talk to the odd girl; but that I knew was an impossibility, and I dismissed the idea.

On the table sat a wooden tray filled with cakes, a few of which I knew would do me an immense amount of good at that time, for I was hungry; and I determined, if possible, to have my fill. I, therefore, scrutinized the yard and out-buildings to satisfy myself there were no other men there, and glanced around to see if any picket fires were in that section; and finding all was right, I walked off a few steps, and fired off my gun. The Johnnies jumped out of the house, and as they did so, I screamed: "Run, boys, run; the Yankees are on us!" and away they went, as fast as their legs could carry them. I fired one shot at them as they appeared in the yard, when the women commenced shrieking fearfully, supposing themselves surrounded by those horrid Yankees—the terror of all the chivalry of the South, male and female. I was so near the rebel pickets that I dare not remain long for fear I would get myself into "business," so I put out for the low ground, and at three o'clock the next morning was once more in our lines, where I slept till daylight; after which I proceeded toward Murfreesboro.

When within about six miles of that town, I was walking along the high-road, inside our lines, when I saw a party of eight or ten men coming down from toward Murfreesboro. Thinking they were our own soldiers, I trudged along, confidently expecting a friendly chat when we met; but when they got nearer me, I discovered they were partly dressed in gray. I, however, still could not think they were other than Yankees—perhaps a detail of scouts on some breakneck expedition—and I was still expecting a friendly confab, when I noticed that they stealthily raised their guns. That was enough for me, for I knew that they could not mistake my character, as I was in full uniform, and under arms; and I sprang through the cedar brake as fresh as if I had just started out after a long rest; the sight of an enemy in one's rear generally has a magical effect on the gait even of a wearied man, and certainly it materially accelerated mine.

Running through the densest part of the brake, where they could not follow me on horseback, I felt confident of escape, as they could not see me before I saw them. I heard them crashing through the bushes only for a short time, when I stopped, after a mile heat in the cedars, exhausted. They were now no longer in hearing, and I, therefore, rested myself awhile, and then took a route through the brake, that I knew would bring me out at old Jack Dill's, within four miles of Murfreesboro. Jack was a fair specimen of a backwoods Tennessee Union man; large, sun-browned, and muscular—honest and patriotic. He invited me into the house with a hearty welcome, and told me of a brush he had had with the rebels the day before; and while the old man was recounting his adventures, his pretty daughter Jennie set me out a nice dinner, with fresh butter and new buttermilk, hot biscuits, and venison steak; and who could not enjoy a story under such circumstances?

The rebels had thought to surprise him in his house, and drag him off to the army; but old Jack was roused by the barking of a faithful dog, and took to the brake near his house; and in pursuing him, the rebels exposed themselves to his unerring rifle, and went back unsuccessful—minus one of their men.

On returning to the house they vowed vengeance to his daughter; she told them to go and make their threats to her father himself; but they didn't go. Old Jack was very proud of his gun—a long, full-stocked rifle. Patting it affectionately, he said:

"You see she is so old and is worn so thin, that when I push a bullet down her, she strains and swells out her sides, like a snake swallowin' a toad; but, by hokey, I can knock the spots out of a secesh yet."

From Dill's I took the main road to town, and in an hour I was at headquarters making my report.