XX. Friday, January 6.
At nine o'clock this morning our host came to the hay-loft and awoke us:
"My troublesome guest is gone; walk down to breakfast."
He was educated, intelligent, and had been a leader among the "Conservative" or Union people, until compelled to acquiesce, nominally, in the war. His house and family were pleasant. But while we now began to approach civilization, the Union lines steadily receded. He informed us that we would find no loyal troops east of Jonesboro, ninety-eight miles from Knoxville, and probably none east of Greenville, seventy-four miles from Knoxville.
"But," said he, "you are out of the woods for the present. You are on the border of the largest Union settlement in all the Rebel States. You may walk for twenty-four miles by daylight on the public road. Look out for strangers, Home Guards, or Rebel guerrillas; but you will find every man, woman, and child, who lives along the route, a stanch and faithful friend."
With light hearts we started down the valley. It seemed strange to travel the public road by daylight, visit houses openly, and look people in the face.
Our way was on the right bank of the Watauga, a broad, flashing stream, walled in by abrupt cliffs, covered with pines and hemlocks. A woman on horseback, with her little son on foot, accompanied us for several miles, saying:
"If you travel alone, you are in danger of being shot for Rebel guerrillas."
More Union Soldiers.
In the evening a Union man rowed us across the stream. On the left bank our eyes were gladdened by three of our boys in blue—United States soldiers at home on furlough. Seeing us in the distance, they leveled their rifles, but soon discovered that we were not foes.