"Then you will find your camp just in this direction," said I, pointing to the rear and left. He slunk away, seemingly well pleased to be quit at so cheap a cost.
Fearing that our voices had been heard by the pickets, I plunged through the bushes directly toward the east, and ran for a minute without pausing. Again the cold sweat was dropping from my face; again I had felt the mysterious mental agony attendant upon a too violent transition of personality. Perhaps it was this peculiar condition which pressed me to prolonged and unguarded energy. I went through thicket and brier patch, over logs and gullies, and when I paused I knew not where I was.
After some reflection I judged that I had pursued an easterly direction so far that Jones was now not to the northeast, but more to the north; I changed my course then, bending toward the north, and before sunrise reached the creek which, on the preceding night, I had crossed after leaving Jones. I did not know whether he was above me or below, so I crossed the stream at the place where I struck it, and went straight away from it through the swamp.
After going a long distance I began to fear that I was missing my course, and I did not know which way to turn. I whistled; there was no response.
No opening could be seen in any direction through the swamp. My present course had led me wrong; it would not do at all to go on; I should get farther and farther away from Jones. If I should assume any direction as the right one, I should be likely to have guessed wrong. I spent an hour working my way laboriously through the swamp, making wide and wider sweeps to reach some opening or some tree on higher ground. At last I saw open ground on my left. I went rapidly to it, and found a field, with a fence separating it from the woods,--the fence running east and west,--and saw, several hundred yards toward the west, the corner of the field at which I had stationed Jones.
At once I began to go rapidly down the hill toward the place. As I came near, I saw both horses prick their ears. Jones was sitting on the ground, with his gun in his lap, alert toward the west; I was in his rear. Suddenly he, too, saw the movement of the horses; he sprang quickly to a tree, from behind which I could now see the muzzle of his gun ten paces off. I whistled. The gun dropped, and Jones advanced, frightened.
"I came in an ace of it," he said, in a loud whisper; "why didn't you signal sooner?"
"To tell you the truth, I did not think of it in time, Jones; I am glad to see you so watchful."
"I should never have recognized you in that plight," said he; "what have you done with your other clothes?"
"Had to throw them away."