The Grizzly had stood with his finger on the trigger, ready to fire if occasion arose; but now judging that Lucius must be past the human obstruction, he noiselessly lowered the hammer of his gun and prepared to make the effort on his own account.
It was more difficult for him than for Lucius, encumbered as he was with his rifle; but Fortune favours the bold, and in ten minutes’ time he found himself once more beside his comrade. They waited till the sound of footsteps told them that the sentry’s back was once more turned to them, and then crawled farther away. In this way they passed a second and a third sentinel, and at length the end of their labours presented itself in the shape of the field which they had crossed in the afternoon. They dared not rise, however, for fear of being seen, and a final crawl of nearly a hundred yards had to be accomplished before they found the safe retreat of the ditch.
‘Thet’s well,’ said Ephraim, contentedly placing his back against the side of the ditch and thrusting his long legs out in front of him. By the time we git ter the end er this, we’ll hev got over a right smart piece er the way.—How d’ye feel, Luce?’
‘I’m all right,’ answered Lucius. ‘Have a cracker? I’ve got a few left.’
‘We may ez well eat ’em,’ said the Grizzly, accepting his share and beginning to munch; ’fer it’s pretty sartin thet ef we don’t breakfast in our own camp ter-morrer, we will in the Yanks’. Ef we don’t reach Stonewall ter-night, we never will.’
‘Come on, then,’ urged Lucius. ‘Another mile and a half ought to take us there.’
‘Right!’ said Ephraim, rising to his feet. ‘Wait a minnit, though.’ Something clanked in his hand as he spoke.
‘What’s that?’ asked Lucius. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Fixin’ my ba’net,’ quoth Ephraim. ‘Ye never know what’ll happen, and it’s best ter be ready. We’ve gone along and come safe through up ter now; but wan er my books says somewhar “the darkest hour’s before the dawn,” and maybe jest ez we think we’re safe the bust’ll come.’
Prophetic words, though Ephraim knew it not. The ditch in which they were had been marked by General Shields as a possible means of exit for any one lurking in the fields, and a thorough search of it had been made. This, of course, led to no result, as the boys were far away at the time; but the general’s astuteness had not ended there, and a sentry had been placed at the end of the ditch remote from the camp—that is, nearest the Confederate lines, with definite orders to shoot any one issuing out of it if he could not give a good account of himself, and that, even though he wore the Federal uniform.