I thought that I had reached the enemy's flank.
A troop of cavalry rode by, going to their front.
I felt sure that I was right. I looked and found the north, star through the branches of the trees. I was right. This road ran north and south. The picket-line doubtless reached the road, or very near it, and bent back; but how far back? If the enemy depended upon cavalry for their flank,--and this flank was toward their main army at Richmond,--my work would be easy.
I crossed the road, and crept along it toward Hanover. More cavalry rode by. I kept on, doubting more strongly the existence of any infantry pickets.
An ambulance went by, going north into camp.
I went thirty yards deeper into the woods. I took everything out of my pockets, stripped off my uniform, and covered it with leaves as well as I could in the darkness. Then I put on the gray clothes and twisted the gum-blanket and threw it over my shoulder. I had resolved to accompany any ambulance or wagon that should come into the rebel camp.
Taking my station by the side of the road, I lay down and waited.
Again cavalry rode by, this squad also going to the front. I was now convinced that there was no picket-line here; this flank was protected by cavalry. Now I was glad that I had not tried the left flank of the rebel line.
I heard trains rolling, and they seemed not very far from me. I could hear the engines puffing.
From down the road toward Richmond came the crack of a whip. I saw a team coming--four or six mules, I could not yet tell in the night.