Then he increased his speed a little and rode without stopping until he
came to the main road to Jackson. There he examined his map upon which
were marked many rivers, creeks, lagoons and bayous, with extensive
shaded areas meaning forests. In the southeastern corner of the map was
Jackson, close to which he meant to go.

He rode on at a fair pace, keeping an extremely careful watch ahead and
on either side of the road. He meant to turn aside soon into the woods,
but for the present he thought himself safe in the road--it was not
likely that Southern raiders would come so near to the Union camp.

His feeling of peace deepened. He was so far away now that no warlike
sound could reach him. Instead the song of the mockingbird pursued him.
Dick, full of youth and life, began to whistle the tune with the songster,
and his horse perhaps soothed too by the rhythm broke into the gentle
pace which is so easy for the rider.

It was early dawn, and the west was not yet wholly light. The east was
full of gold, but the silver lingered on the opposite horizon, and the
hot sun of Mississippi did not yet shed its rays over the earth. Instead,
a cool breeze blew on Dick's face, and the quick blood was still leaping
in his veins. The road dipped down and he came to a brook, which was
clear despite its proximity to the mighty yellow trench of the
Mississippi.

He let his horse drink freely, and, while he drank, he surveyed the
country as well as he could. On his left he saw through a fringe of
woods a field of young corn and showing dimly beyond it a small house.
Unbroken forest stretched away on his right, but in field as well as
forest there was no sign of a human being.