The chase had continued some three miles, when the road became narrow and lined with bushes on each side. Jerry saw his opportunity; he knew the pursuit must be checked, or his whole band would be captured or dispersed. As it was, he had already lost six or seven men. He dashed to the head of the column and quickly gave orders. As the men passed him, three would spring from their horses and disappear in the brush, the fourth one riding on with the horses. The road through the brush was a winding one, and Jerry was in hopes the Federals might not see what was being done and ride into the trap. Mounted men would have but little chance in that narrow road against an enemy concealed in the brush. But Lawrence was not to be caught. He saw the opportunity afforded for just such a move; not only this, but he caught sight of the last of the guerrillas as they were disappearing in the brush. "Halt!" he ordered. His men drew rein, wondering why they were halted. When the column closed up, Lawrence ordered half of the men to dismount, form a skirmish line on each side of the road and to advance cautiously. This was done, and soon the crack of the carbines and revolvers showed that the guerrillas had been aroused, and then the cheers of his men told Lawrence the enemy were retreating. Jerry had failed to draw the Federals into his trap, but he had saved his gang, for night was now near at hand and it would have been madness for Lawrence to continue the pursuit in the darkness. Lawrence went into camp near a farmhouse, where he noticed there was plenty of provender for the horses. The house was tenanted by a woman and three children. At the sight of the Yankees the children shrieked in terror and ran cowering behind their mother, who tried to preserve a brave front, but could not conceal her fears. By questioning, Lawrence became convinced her husband was one of Jerry's band, but he quieted her fears by saying, "There is no reason for you to be alarmed. Your house will not be disturbed. I will see that no soldier enters it. What feed the horses need I will take. I also see some fat pigs. I shall let my men kill one. Some sweet potatoes may be dug and a few chickens killed, but nothing will be taken that we do not actually need, and nothing will be destroyed. But for all I know we may be attacked. My advice is to go into the house, bar the door and keep quiet." Lawrence had had two men wounded in the _mêlée_ and they were as tenderly cared for as possible. The men were soon busy preparing supper, and chicken, fresh pork and sweet potatoes added to their rations, made, as they thought, a banquet fit for a king. All were in the highest spirits as they discussed the incidents of the day. "I tell you," said one, "that young Captain of ours is a good one. Not many would have discovered that ambuscade, and we would have ridden plumb into it."