Leaving my horse, I took to the woods on foot, making direct for Decatur, taking the sun for my guide. The second night overtook me in the woods very near Madison depot, on the railroad between Huntsville and Decatur. I had tried to travel in the night, but was overtaken by a terrible storm, and the darkness was so great that I could not find my way. Being very tired, I slept soundly, with no other bed than the ground, and no cover but my rubber Talma.
I awoke next morning just as it was beginning to get gray in the east, and found I had lain down in a low piece of ground, and the water had run under and around me, until it was about four inches deep. I was cold and wet, and hungry as a wolf. I made the railroad my guide after that, and passed through Madison just as the citizens were beginning to stir about, and I saw four or five rebel soldiers starting at that early hour toward a saloon for their morning drinks. I soon discovered that the railroad was the safest route I could travel, as there were no houses near it, and I followed it till I reached a point near Mooresville, where I stopped at the house of a Union man for breakfast, or rather dinner, for it was about ten o'clock. He took me for a rebel in disguise, sent there to try him and ascertain his sentiments. He gave his name as Porter Bibb, and I gave mine as Gabe Fitzhugh. I was trying to sound him and he was trying to sound me. We spent about two hours in lying to each other, to discover each the other's opinions, but had mutually failed, and when we had commenced lamenting the death of A. Sydney Johnson in the battle of Shiloh, we were interrupted by the entrance of a Quartermaster's sergeant, who I ascertained to belong to Young's 2d Tennessee Cavalry, and that they were guarding the identical bridge I was sent to inspect. I got into a conversation with them, and gave the 8th Texas—Wharton's Rangers—as my regiment. They were without suspicion, and I do not think they had ever seen a Yankee before.
My first business was to get their confidence—the next, to draw them into a conversation respecting the bridge. This was done without exciting the least suspicion as to who I was. They told me all about the bridge and its defenses, and how they were built of cotton bales; and the sergeant gave me a description of how they tried its qualities as a defensive work.
"We took a six pound gun," said he, "and planted it three hundred yards from the fort, loaded with a heavy charge of powder and a solid shot, and then aiming at the fort about breast high to a man, we fired. The ball went through the first wall and turned downward, and struck the ground, glanced upward, struck and went through the top bale, knocking it to pieces, turned downward again and hit the water about the middle of the river, glanced up and struck a house on the opposite side of the river, then went through the walls and fell in the yard near the house."
"Why did not the officers make the fort stronger?" I inquired.
"Well," he said, "I asked that question myself, but the Colonel said it wasn't intended to stand a siege, nor to turn artillery, but merely as a protection against Yankee cavalry; that the 4th Ohio was everywhere, and pitching into everything, and no one knew what day they might come to this section of the country. But let 'em come; we are fixed for 'em now."
He was so explicit in his description that he actually mapped out the fortifications on the floor of Bibb's shop.
While we were talking a rebel Captain came in, who, I suppose, was a relative of Bibb. He was very inquisitive, and wanted to know all about me, adding that he hoped I would take no offense at his questions, as these "were very suspicious times."
"Not at all, sir," was my answer, "an honest man is never afraid of being watched?"