Who goes there?

by B. K. Benson

"That is true," I replied, "but some accident might happen to both of us out there, and neither of us be able to report to General Grover. Stay where you are."

I tried to go forward in a straight line so that I should be able to turn square about and make my way back to Allen. The woods became more open as I went. The rain had ceased, and I could see much better. I reached the edge of the woods, and looked out. A few stars were shining between broken clouds near the horizon in front of me--west, I thought. Toward the north, and northwest the clouds reflected some distant light, and had a reddish glow. I could distinctly hear the sounds of great movements, the rumblings of wagon, trains or artillery. The ground seemed open before me for a long distance.

I went rapidly back toward Allen, whistling. He came to meet me.

"Now, Allen," said I, "your part of this business is about over. Go back to Captain Brown and ask him to report at once to General Grover that the road shows clearly that the rebels have already moved along it to their left, our right; and that there is nobody here, all gone; gone to our right, their left, and that I have been entirely through the woods, and have found nothing, but that to the northwest there are the sounds of great movements, and that I am going to see if I cannot find out more."

"Then what am I to do after that?" he asked.

"Nothing; remain with your company. I shall not need you, for I doubt if I get back before day, and there is nothing for me to fear in this place."

Allen started one way and I another. It was now about two o'clock, I thought; the sky was almost clear, and I could see about me. I passed rapidly through the woods again and into the open ground, climbing a rail fence, and went up a very gentle slope that rose before me, an "old field," or abandoned farm, which was scattered over here and there with clumps of stunted growth. Once I paused in terror. A bush had taken, to my fancy, the form of a man. The illusion lasted but for a moment.

When I had reached the highest part of this undulation, I could see many lights--some of them in motion, but most of them stationary. The sounds of a moving army were distinct; I could hear shouts, like those of teamsters, and once I thought I could catch the command to close up.

I went on, down a gentle descent, and into a ravine which was difficult to cross, and up the rise beyond. Between me and the red glare I could distinguish objects, and I knew that if there were rebels in line before me, I should be able to see them before they could see me, so I went on without great fear, and crept to the top of this second swell of the ground.

Here there could be no doubt that the rebels were retreating. The road was full of them not four hundred yards from me. Fires were burning on both sides of the road; men and wagons were hurrying westward. Almost in front of me was a cluster of houses, which I took to be Williamsburg; fires were burning in the streets; a great throng was passing on west between the fires and between the houses. I had little doubt that I could mingle, without great danger, with the rebels, seeing that my gum-blanket would hide my uniform, and was tempted to do so; the thought was rejected, however; time was lacking; it would soon be day; I knew enough already; I could not hope to learn from the rebels much more than I now knew, and every step farther away from our lines would doubly delay my report. So I turned my back upon Williamsburg and hurried toward our pickets.