Parting the thick branches he gazed out upon the surrounding country scene for several miles in the clear starlight. Had it been daylight he might have seen distinctly a wide panorama of scenery. As he had expected to do he gazed upon the tents of an encampment of the Federal troops. He knew well enough it was McPherson’s corps lying in wait, undecided as yet whether to move boldly upon Reseca or to retreat. The forces were but a few miles away and fixing the direction in his mind he began to look around him for some avenue of escape, knowing that he had but a few minutes in which to act. Peering down through the matted branches he saw that the Confederates were listlessly waiting his movements. At the least cause for alarm they would be active enough, though evidently they felt certain of their prey. As we have already told the pine stood near to the house, so near in fact that Cavalry Curt had noticed that its branches touched the building. Particularly were they thick together and long at a point objective to the chamber windows. Here was where the scout hoped to escape. Without stopping to take more than a hasty survey from his lofty perch Curt, leaving his slouched hat so it might be seen by those below, cautiously began to descend, hugging closely to the tree. Swiftly yet silently he retraced his course until he stood on the branch that, reaching around the corner of the dwelling, had boldly pushed its way through one of the windows. Hearing nothing as yet from his enemies to alarm him, he glided out along the branch concealed by the matted growth of boughs above and below. “Helloa!” called out Lieutenant Boggs, cautiously, when he was about midway in the passage, “what do you see?” Of course Curt made no reply--only quickened his progress knowing that his time would soon be up. “I say where are you?” called out Boggs a little louder, as he listened in vain for an answer to his first call. “Hang the fool! why don’t he speak!” muttered the officer. Then louder than before he called out: “Are you going to keep us here all night? Come down at once.” At this moment Curt’s hand touched the window-sill, when with the agility of a cat he noiselessly drew himself forward allowing the branch to sway back to its normal position as gently as possible. Still the Confederate received no reply to his appeal and he began to grow first uneasy, then furious. “He is clean, clear to the top,” declared one of his followers, “I can just see his head between the branches. P’raps he don’t hear you, for he don’t move.” “I’ll send a chunk of lead up there if he don’t stir pretty soon,” growled Boggs. “Reckon that’ll fetch him.” The night seemed unusually quiet, and not a sound followed his words. Curt had gained the house and stood within its walls.