hills and clear streams, but here the ground lay low, the soil was soft
and the waters dark and sluggish. But his instincts as a woodsman were
fortified by much youthful training, and he felt that he could find the
way.

It gave him now great joy to leave the army and ride away through the
deep woods. He was tired of battle and the sight of wounds and death.
The noises of the camp were painful to his ear, and in the forest he
found peace.

He was absolutely alone in his world, and glad of it. The woods were in
all the depth and richness of a Southern spring. Vast masses of green
foliage billowed away to right and left. Great festoons of moss hung
from the oaks, and trailing vines wrapped many of the trees almost to
their tops. Wild flowers, pink, yellow and blue, unknown by name to Dick,
bloomed in the open spaces.

The air of early morning was crisp with the breath of life. He had come
upon a low ridge of hard ground, away from the vast current and low,
sodden shores of the Mississippi. Here was a clean atmosphere, and the
forest, the forest everywhere. A mockingbird, perched on a bough almost
over his head, began to pour forth his liquid song, and from another far
away came the same song like an echo. Dick looked up but he could not
see the bird among the branches. Nevertheless he waved his hand toward
the place from which the melody came and gave a little trill in reply.
Then he said aloud:

"It's a happy omen that you give me. I march away to the sound of
innocent music."