At one time, when much bewildered in the shadowy woods, in night time, we began to despair of success. We sat down to contemplate our condition and our cheerless prospect. Had an enemy been approaching us we could have well-nigh welcomed him, so he brought deliverance. At length the stillness and thick darkness of the night made our loneliness oppressive, and we groped on. Soon we found a road, and realized that the "darkest hour is just before day." Knoxville, East Tennessee, was the point at which we first aimed, but on nearing the line of the East Tennessee and Virginia Railroad we learned Longstreet's forces were in Bull's Gap. We then bore northward. On first setting out on our trip we were extremely cautious. During the first nights and days, after starting, we talked only in whispers. We passed houses with the utmost care, as dogs were at almost every house, and their acuteness in discovering our presence was astonishing, in view of the caution we exercised. Early in our trip, one night near eleven o'clock, as we were nearing a house, a dog barked savagely at us. Instantly the front door opened, and by the light of a fire in the fire-place we saw a woman in her night clothing, watching us pass. Late one night, after midnight, we met a citizen on the road. He was on horseback, moving slowly along. He gave the road, at the same time checking his horse slightly. When he had passed by, the way he made his horse scamper was lively, to say the least. "He must be after the doctor, the way he goes," observed Trippe. "He took sick mi'ty sudden," rejoined Wood. "The sight of us at this time is enough to make him sick," put in a third. We were walking in Indian file, and had our blankets drawn loosely over our shoulders and dragging almost on the ground. Doubtless we were scary looking objects, especially as Smith had his bed-quilt hung over him. Thinking the man had possibly gone for re-enforcements with which to "gobble" us, we hurried forward. The night of our discovery of the cavalry horses, being much wearied, and feeling we were going to be "hard pressed" for food, we climbed into a corn field to hunt for corn that might have been left on the stalks. Each of our party followed two rows across the field and two back, but not a "nubbin" could be found. Not finding a grain of corn on two dozen rows, and the corn blades being also gone, we concluded, as Taylor observed, "They gather their nubbins clean in the Confederacy." "Yes," added Wood, "they can't hold out much longer."