night overtook us in midst of a mountain solitude. The scouts had discovered a spring at the bottom of a rocky hollow, and there Fox reluctantly ordered camp to be made, the horses finding scant pasturage beyond. The night was chill, but there was nothing to cook, and no fires were lighted, the men munching at whatever they had in their haversacks, and endeavoring to extract some warmth from their thin blankets. The grumbling and cursing soon ceased, however, and those not on duty slept fitfully. I made the round of the sentries with Fox, slipping and stumbling over the rough way, through the darkness, until we again found refuge beside the spring. The night was black and still. We could hear the restless movements of the horses, the mournful cry of some wild bird. The captain was but a dim shadow barely outlined in the gloom.
"This weird place gets on the nerves," he said, as if half ashamed of the confession. "Do you know, Raymond, I have felt for the last hour as if we were riding into some trap." He glanced nervously behind him. "I don't believe there has ever been a Federal detachment down as far as this before. We're in old Ned Cowan's country."
"Confederate?" I asked, interested at once by the name.
"Heaven knows! To the best of my belief the
