"Before you go you are to come to the general for instructions. He is just below here, at the Knob, as it is called. You must remember passing the spot."
"Yes, I remember," answered Deck.
It was supper time, but the major did not wait for the meal. Calling a negro orderly aside, he procured a bite and a strong cup of coffee, and having swallowed both, set off on a gallop.
The conference with General Mitchell occupied the best part of quarter of an hour. Deck was instructed to take the road leading to the headwaters of Town Creek, to the northwest of Valley Head. He was to pass over the creek or around it, and note with care all of the approaches to Lookout Mountain in that vicinity. The mission might prove dangerous, and the sharpshooters were to do their best to avoid a capture by the enemy, should the Confederates develop in force and surprise them.
With these instructions well understood, Deck returned to the Riverlawns and summoned Life. The selection of the five sharpshooters was left to the tall Kentuckian, and it is needless to state that the captain picked out the most able fellows his company afforded. The horses had already been watered and groomed, and the men had had supper; so after Deck's own steed was cared for, they set off, the major and the captain side by side, and the sharpshooters by column of twos in the rear.
At about eight o'clock the mountain was passed, and the seven cavalrymen found themselves in a small valley, with rocks upon one side, and a woods backed up by a small creek on the other. The trail lay along the bank of the creek, and was easy to follow, even in the gathering darkness.
"How long do you propose to travel—all night?" asked Life, presently.
"That will depend upon circumstances," answered Deck. "We may as well push along while the trail is as clear as it is here."
"But we can't locate any enemy in the dark."
"I doubt very much if any Confederates are so close to us. I was thinking, however, we might spot a camp-fire before midnight."