be at least a half-hour before they found the trail and his strength
would be restored fully then. His sinking of the canoe had been in
reality a triumph, and so he remained at ease, watching the ford.

He was quite sure that when his trail was found the little man would
be the one to find it, and sure enough at the end of a half-hour the
weazened figure led down to the ford. Dick might have shot one of them
in the water, but he had no desire to take life. It would serve no
purpose, and, refreshed and strengthened, he set out through the forest
toward Jackson.

He came to a brook soon, and, remembering the old device of Indian times,
he waded in it at least a half-mile. When he left it he passed through a
stretch of wood, crossed an old cotton field and entered the woods again.
Then he sat down and ate from his store, feeling that he had shaken off
his pursuers. Another examination of his map followed. He had kept
fixed in his mind the point at which he was to find Hertford, and,
being a good judge of direction, he felt sure that he could yet reach it.

The sun, now high and warm, had dried his clothing, and, after the food,
he was ready for another long march. He struck into a path and walked
along it, coming soon to a house which stood back a little distance from
a road into which the path merged. A man and two women standing on
the porch stared at him curiously, but he pretended to take no notice.
After long exposure to weather, blue uniforms did not differ much from
gray, and his own was now covered with mud. He could readily pass as a
soldier of the Confederacy unless they chose to ask too many questions.

"From General Pemberton's army?" called the man, when he was opposite the
house.