“Guess we can go back now with some peace and comfort,” said Abe, coming up, and alluding to the cessation of the firing in their front. “That last round took all the fight out of them hell-hounds across the field.”
“Some of you had better go over to the camp there and get our axes. We'll have to cut a road through the cedars if we take these guns off,” said Harry, tieing a handkerchief around the gaping saber wound in his temple. “The rest of you get around to the right, and keep a sharp look out for the flank.”
So they worked their way back, and a little after noon came to the open fields by the pike.
As the wagon rolled slowly down the pike toward Nashville Rachel, in spite of anxiety, fell asleep. Some hours later she was awakened by the driver shaking her rudely.
“Wake up!” he shouted, “ef ye value yer life!”
“Where are we?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.
“At Stewart's Creek,” answered the driver, “an' all o' Wheeler's cavalry are out thar' in them woods.”