"No. There was only us fourteen there last night."
"The old man Pruett told me yesterday that there was, that we had three brigades of cavalry at the White Church on Wolf River."
"The old man was mistaken. There is none of our forces nearer than Tupelo, except the three regiments that you saw to-day, and a few of the same company that I belong to, that are scattered about the country on the same business that we are on."
In the morning our operations of notifying the planters was renewed, and our route lay along the bottoms of Davis Creek, toward the head-waters of the creek. About noon we very unexpectedly found a Yankee forage party.
"There is some of the Yankee sons of b—hes now!" said the Lieutenant.
"Where?" said I.
"There, up on top of the hill to the left," said he, pointing toward them.
I looked, and sure enough there they were. There was about thirty of the Yankees, and eight teams. They had halted to feed, and had stacked arms. They did not see us. We moved along a little further to a cow-path that led to the right up a ridge of ground parallel to the one occupied by the Yankees. The hollow that intervened was filled with a growth of bushes extending to the path which we were in, which screened us from view and enabled us to approach within fifty yards of the Yankees without being seen.
I now recognized the detachment as belonging to my own regiment, and one of the men was my own bunk-mate!
The Lieutenant told us to be quiet and not to speak a word, and if the Yankees ventured away from their arms, we would make a dash upon them and capture their arms and mules, and burn the wagons. Little did they mistrust the relation that I bore to these Yankees. I determined, if a dash was attempted, to do what execution I could upon my butternut companions with my revolver, hoping to dispose of four or five of them before my true relation was discovered. It was a moment of fearful suspense as we watched those Federal soldiers; but my butternut companions were too deeply interested in the watch to observe any feelings that my actions might have betrayed.