"The Confederate army is so crippled for the want of horses and mules that it can move only at a snail's pace," answered Deck. "A company could be sent over"-- "Quite impossible!" exclaimed the general. "We have no boats, though they might be obtained farther down the stream." "A couple of scouts, then," added the lieutenant. "Whom could I send on such an errand?" asked the commander with a smile. "Me for one; and I should be willing to go alone if I knew the country," replied Deck very promptly. "My horse Ceph would take me over the river." "Have you forgotten the dead horses that strewed the shores of the stream, and the four men who were drowned in trying to cross in a boat?" "Those men were no boatmen, and I have had some experience in that line. I am willing to take my chances of getting over, sir." The subject was discussed for a full hour longer, and Deck carried his point; but he concluded that he was unwilling to risk the loss of Ceph, and would go over in Cuffy's boat, and find a horse on the other side. It was decided that he must have some one with him who was acquainted with the region they were to visit, even to a considerable distance into the State of Tennessee. Life Knox was sent for; and he informed the general that he had travelled all over the country mentioned several times when he was buying horses for a trader, though it was many years before. He was willing to go anywhere and do anything with Deck. "I suppose you know very well, both of you, that if you were caught, and your mission understood, you would be hung or shot without benefit of clergy," said General Woodbine impressively. "We shall come back, and with the information you want, in forty-eight hours," replied Deck confidently. "Do you intend to go over in the full uniform of a staff-officer?" inquired the general. "I think not, sir. If you will leave the matter to Life and me, we will manage all the details." "Very well; you will perhaps find my command at Burkesville when you return," added the general, rising from his seat at the table; and taking the hands of the scouts, he wished them a safe return, and they left the tent. They walked back to the shanty of Cuffy, and found him seated in his kitchen. Not a word was said to Major Lyon about the enterprise of his son; and Deck could not bid good-by to his father, his brother, or to the many friends he had in the squadron. Both of them were in uniform, and they had no difficulty in passing the guards. Cuffy was not only a ferryman, but a river-driver. He made a business of picking up whatever floated down the stream, not excepting the dead bodies of men and horses, the former for their clothing and whatever their pockets contained, and the latter for the saddles and bridles on them. He buried the bodies of the men in a pit he had made for the purpose, drying and storing in his house portions of their clothing.