Their progress through the forest was necessarily very slow, for the band was partly on foot, and the cavalry had to accommodate its pace to the infantry, whom it did not wish to leave behind. The path also was often so narrow and obstructed that they had to march in single file, Captain Bannister leading the way, followed by Colonel Rosenthal and a guard and young Wing, and another guard and Hay, and then the horse and lastly the foot. After marching on in this tedious manner for nearly forty minutes, they came suddenly upon a picket guard so well concealed that though they—the pickets—could command the approach to their station, no one not familiar with their cover could suspect their presence there. All in the darkness, the arriving band was challenged with the usual: “Who goes there?” Captain Bannister answered and gave the pass-word: and then exclaimed: “You are as dark as the Stygian lake here, Griffin! What the d—— do you mean by it? I had nearly ridden over you.” “The orders were to show no lights, Captain.” “Humph! What is the news, Griffin?” “Wiley has captured a sutler’s wagon with a lot of liquor and provisions, Captain. The major will feast you all to-night and give the men double rations, and to-morrow we are to have double rations of food and grog also.” “That _is_ good news indeed, Griffin, to men who have been on short commons as long as we have.” “Hope you’ve had success, Captain. So dark I can’t see who is with you, sir.” “Yes, we have secured the rich prize we went to seek. Good night, Griffin,” said Bannister, passing on his way, followed by all his band. The approach to Monck’s camp was very strongly picketed; they passed several other guards, but all concealed in thick wood and deep darkness, out of which they watched and listened like crouching tigers for their prey. At length the band emerged from the forest and came upon the deep and narrow river, beyond which arose a nearly perpendicular range of mountains, dimly seen in the starlight. Here the officer in command of the party halted and took a whistle from his pocket and blew a shrill blast. It was answered from the other side; and almost immediately the plash of oars was heard, and a ferry-boat was seen to move across the water. It was little better than a scow; but it accommodated the three prisoners with their immediate guard. When they were all in the boat, Captain Bannister told the ferryman to make haste and put them across the river; and the ferryman and his assistants promptly obeyed, laying themselves to their oars with good will. While they were crossing the captain questioned the ferryman: “What news in the camp, Horne?”