Putting our horses into a gallop, we rushed into the darkness. Splashing through the mud, now fording creeks, now floundering through quagmires, our little band flitted like spectres. Every hour lessened the distance between us and the boys in blue. Daylight would find us within sight of the stars and stripes, if no misfortune overtook us. Our horses were reeking with perspiration. Up hill and down, on and on we galloped. At last a house appeared in sight.
"Halt! Dismount!"
"What is this, Major?" I asked.
"The house of a friend," was the reply. "We are within five miles of your picket lines."
Could it be possible that only five miles divided us from our old comrades—from the "boys in blue," from telegraphic communication with wife and children? Only five miles to liberty? We could hardly restrain our feelings within reasonable bounds. My heart fluttered and my limbs shook with excitement. My voice trembled so that I could scarcely articulate.
"Why do you halt?" I querulously asked the Major.
"We must wait till daylight. It is not safe to approach the picket line at night."
"But, Major, is there not another house nearer the line? Must we stop here? Would it not be safer to get as near the line as possible? Is there not a possibility that we may be attacked even here?"
I poured these questions out without giving him a chance to reply. It seemed as if I could not stop.
"It seems like you were gitt'n' mighty uneasy just now. I reckon we'll have to stop a time, anyhow. You might as well come in and make yourselves comfortable. We will get warmed up, have something to eat, let the horses blow awhile, and then perhaps we will go on to the Widow H——'s. She lives right close to the line, but she's a Reb clean through, and I don't like to trust her any longer than is necessary."