On gaining the information desired, we resumed our journey. By eight o'clock we had traversed the rough, broken country lying between Childs's and Hepler's house. We found Hepler on the look out for false Unionists; but as Childs had told us Davis and Tige had been befriended by him—Hepler—we found no difficulty in proving our genuineness to him. Near nine o'clock we took supper at Hepler's table, and after a two hours' talk, we were comfortably lodged in his house. After breakfasting the next morning, having got ready to set forth again on our journey, we bade Hepler's family adieu, and he conducted us to the top of a lofty range of mountains, at the base of which his house stood. Having reached the highest elevation in the mountain, Hepler pointed out to us another range upon which the home of William Lewis was situated. The exact locality of Lewis's house was pointed out, although we could scarcely see it, and were eight and a half miles distant. Hepler told us we could go to Lewis's in day-time without much risk, but it would be impossible for strangers to go over the route by night. He also informed us that it was probable we could get Lewis to guide us a portion of, if not all, the way to the Federal lines. On hearing some further instructions to enable us to find our way more easily, we bade our friend adieu, and left him. It was fully ten o'clock in the day when we set out on our journey to Lewis's house. We crossed two ridges, as many valleys, and many small rivulets of the mountains before reaching our objective point. On commencing the ascent of a third ridge, we found a path of which Hepler had spoken. We then knew we were on the ridge upon which we would find the house of a friend. We took the path as a guide, and followed its devious course. When little more than half-way up the mountain side we met two men and a woman and child. The men were on foot. The woman, with her child in her arms, was on horseback. The largest man was carefully leading the horse down the mountain path. No word was spoken at this meeting, each party maintaining silence and casting suspicious glances at the other. Soon after we gained the top of the ridge, and came in sight of Lewis's house, situated in a bowl-shaped depression in the top of the mountain. We did not wish to go to the house while it was yet day, for fear of finding some Secessionist there, and thus placing Lewis as well as ourselves in an embarrassing situation. We went aside from the path nearly two hundred yards, and hid in the brush. We found we had stopped in a place from which we could watch the house. Our position also commanded a view of the path we had just left, and of persons that might pass upon it.
It was near four o'clock, P. M., when we halted. We kept our eyes at intervals on the house and its immediate surroundings, but saw no person during the evening. One dog, a calf, and a few chickens, were the only living objects visible. The doors of the house were closed, and we concluded Lewis and his family had gone from home; but as smoke was issuing from the chimney, we hoped they would return by dark. We feared the man we had met leading the horse was Lewis with his family, going with a friend to make a visit. If so, we should be delayed, we thought, in our journey, and be compelled to push on without seeing him. We decided to wait until dark in our hiding-place, and see if Lewis would return. Just after sunset the man we had met on the mountain, leading the horse, went along the path to Lewis's premises. He was leading a horse, and was accompanied by two other men, each leading horses. They first put their horses in the stable and fed them. They then chopped some wood at the wood-pile and carried it to the house. Darkness came on, and we saw sparks flying from the chimney top. Feelings of joyous gratitude heaved our bosoms as we felt certain we should soon meet Lewis and enjoy the company and consolations of a native thorough-bred Union man. We were destined to meet with disappointment, however, and to experience difficulties from which a mere allusion to Davis and Tige would not relieve us.
In less than an hour after dark we left our position in the thicket and went to the house. We knocked three times before we were told to come in. With a show of reluctance on the part of the three men, we were furnished seats near the fire. Wood, addressing the largest of the men, asked, "Your name is Lewis, I suppose?"
"No, but Lewis is a brother-in-law of mine," was the answer.
"Well, this is Lewis's house, is it?" Wood asked. "We were told it was."
"Where is Lewis?" inquired Sutherland.
"I don't know," said the man, "he hasn't been at home for several days."
"What's your name?" continued Sutherland.
"My name is Hepler."
"Are you akin to David Hepler?" Sutherland asked.