It was not perfectly dark, for there was a moon beyond the clouds, and, as I heard a wagon approaching, I stepped to the bushes beside the road and accosted the driver. His voice assured me that he was a negro, and I made bold to get from him as much information as possible. Words cannot describe the flood of disappointment, vexation, and anger that swept over my bosom when I found I was within four miles of Chattanooga,--that town which I regarded as the lion's mouth! So far as I had a plan it was to leave this place far to my right, and strike the Tennessee River twelve or fifteen miles farther down-stream. I hoped to do this, and to cross over the river by floating on some dry branch of a tree before morning. If the stars came out, so that I could travel a straight course, this hope was not unreasonable. But near Chattanooga, however, all the river would be watched and the country around strictly patrolled. But if discouraged by the manner in which I seemed attracted towards the rebel headquarters, despair was useless; so, learning the direction both of Ringgold and Chattanooga from the negro, who, like all of his color, was ready to do anything for fugitives, with whom he had a fellow-feeling (though I did not make my true character known to him), I pressed forward through the rain and mud. As the road did not lead in the right direction, I again travelled in the fields and woods. For some time I felt sure of having the right course in my head and hurried on. But when I had crossed a large field of deadened timber I was completely lost. Soon, however, I reached a road which seemed to lead right, and followed it with renewed vigor for several miles. At length I met three men on horseback. It was too dark to tell whether they were negroes or white men, but I ventured to ask them,-- "How far is it to Chattanooga?" "_Three miles!_" "Is this the right road?" "Yes, sah, right ahead." These, probably, were men sent out to search for the railroad adventurers, and they did not try to arrest me because I had accosted them so boldly and was going directly towards Chattanooga. But it was evident I was again on the wrong road. Indeed, so hopelessly bewildered was I that it seemed impossible to travel any but the wrong road. As soon as the horsemen were out of sight I turned and followed them three or four miles, until I came to a large road running at right angles with my own, which terminated where it entered the other. I deliberated some time as to which end of this new road I should take. These mountain-roads are fearfully crooked, and the one I had been travelling bent too often to give me the direction even of the dreaded Chattanooga.