One morning, "Runaway Dick" was not to be found. He had run away once more. It was not difficult to divine whither--to California. In this, his latest flight, he appeared to give some proof that he had still a little honesty left: for he did not take along with him either his horse, or his rifle. I overheard some of the officers speaking of him after he was gone, one of them pronounced him "a damned fool" for not taking the horse--so necessary to him upon the long journey he would have to perform, before reaching his destination. On hearing this remark, I registered a resolve, that, when my turn came to desert, they should not have occasion to apply the epithet to me, at all events, not for the same reason that Runaway Dick had deserved it. Whether Dick's example had any influence on me, I do not now remember. I only know that I soon after determined to desert, and take my horse with me. I had served the Government of the United States once before; and did not think myself any too well rewarded for my services. I might probably have believed that "Uncle Sam" was indebted to me; and that by dismissing myself from his employ, and taking with me some of his property, it would be only squaring accounts with him; but I did not then take the trouble to trifle with my conscience--as I do not now--to justify my conduct by any such excuse. To carry off the horse would be stealing; but I required the animal for the journey; and I did not like to leave my officers under the impression that I was a "damned fool." "Every one who robs a government is not called a thief," thought I, "and why should I win that appellation when only trying to win Lenore?" I could not afford to squander the best part of my life in a wilderness--standing sentry all the night, and working on fortifications all the day. It was absurd for any one to have enlisted an intelligent-looking young fellow like myself, for any such occupation. Was I not expected to take French leave on the first favourable opportunity? And would I not be thought a "fool" for not doing so? These considerations did not influence me much, I admit, for the true cause of my desertion, was the knowledge that neither my relatives nor Lenore would ever be encountered in the middle of the great American prairie, and that to find either I must "move on." One night I was dispatched on patrol duty, to a place some two miles distant from the fort. The sky was dark at the time; but I knew the moon would be shining brightly in an hour. A better opportunity would perhaps never occur again; and I resolved to take advantage of it and desert. By going through the wilderness alone, I knew that I should have many dangers and hardships to encounter; but the curiosity, of learning how these were to be overcome, only added to my desire for entering upon them.