"Yes, ye dam skunk, you maybe mighty glad them ain't home guards. If they was, you'd catch Jerusalem, I tell ye what, ye black rascal!" The darkey did not appear to comprehend, but dared not speak. "Whither bound, boys?" asked Hayward. "Well," replied the leader, "we are going to scout around the federal camp a little, to find out what we can. I suppose we can get in, as we shall go separately, and if surprised, we shall pass as home guards. I fancy no difficulty, as you mistook us for such." "Still, you must be very careful. These Yankees are very sharp, I am informed," replied Hayward. "Well, if we are attacked we must do our best, of course. But we may not go as far as Warsaw. Our principal object is, to get some kegs of powder, which are buried on the Osage, just above--let me see." The officer took a card from his pocket and read aloud: "_Just above Rapid creek, on the west bank, near a large oak tree, which is marked C. S. A._" "Powder! good! We are in need of it," answered Hayward. "By the by, I am out of powder--so are our entire party. Have you any to spare?" "Oh! yes, here is a flask." Hayward reached for his second pistol, and then looking up with surprise, he said: "Why, I lost one of my weapons. Ah! I remember where we stopped, _about two miles back_, in the brush, by the river's side. Elsler, you have not ridden as far to-day as I have; won't you ride back and get it for me. You probably will find it on the ground where I was sitting. We will ride slow, so that you can easily overtake us." "With pleasure, captain," replied Elsler, as he turned his horse, and rode rapidly away. "I would go with you, captain," said Hayward, "were it not that I have important information to impart to General Price. By the by, captain, is my friend Branch with you now?" "Yes--but you must have been absent some time not to be aware of his presence." "Oh! I have not been with the general since the Lexington affair. I just came up from McIntosh's command. But why would I be particularly aware of his presence. Has Branch got himself into trouble?" "Yes--he's caught a tartar!" "Will a duel be the result?" asked Hayward, with apparent solicitude. "Oh! he's already shot!" "Injured badly?" "O! no, that is, not mortally. He was only shot, as Mercutio says, 'with a white wench's black eye.' That's all." "I don't exactly understand you," replied Hayward, feigning ignorance.