He studied his map again, noting the great number of water courses,
which in the spring season were likely to be at the flood, and, for
the first time, he realized the extreme difficulty of his mission.
Mississippi was in the very heart of the Confederacy. He could not
expect any sympathetic farmers to help him or show him the way. More
likely as he advanced toward Jackson he would find the country swarming
with the friends of the Confederacy, and to pass through them would
demand the last resource of skill and courage. Perhaps it would have
been wiser had he put on citizens clothes and taken his chances as a spy!
He did not know that Colonel Winchester would have ordered the disguise
had the one who rode on this most perilous mission been any other than he.

The realization brought with it extreme caution. Growing up in a country
which was still mainly in forest, not differing much from its primitive
condition, save for the absence of Indians and big game, he had learned
to be at home in the woods, and now he turned from the path, riding among
the trees.

He kept a course some distance from the road, where he was sheltered by
the deep foliage and could yet see what was passing along the main artery
of travel. The ground at times was spongy, making traveling hard,
and twice his horse swam deep creeks. He would have turned into the road
at these points but the bridges were broken down and he had no other
choice.

The morning waned, and the coolness departed. The sun hung overhead,
blazing hot, and the air in the forest grew dense and heavy. He would
have been glad to turn back into the road, in the hope of finding a
breeze in the open space, but caution still kept him in the forest.