In order to understand our real condition at that time and what had saved us from capture, it will be necessary to revert to the place where we had crossed Clinch river, and notice what was transpiring there. As before stated, one-half of our company crossed Clinch river before two o’clock in the morning. But the remainder, numbering about one hundred and fifty, did not do so until near daylight. In consequence they were discovered by a rebel, named Jones, who lived in the vicinity. He gladly hurried off to a rebel camp a few miles below and gave information. The rebels were on the alert, for they had previous notice that a party of Union men were in the neighborhood, and they gave quick pursuit. But fortunately, a Union man hearing that our friends would probably be overtaken by their enemies, hurried along a near way and told them of their danger. Upon receiving this warning, they had but time to hide in a thicket close at hand, when the pursuing cavalry went rushing by at the top of their speed upon the trail the first half of our company had made hours before, without discovering that any of the fugitives were being left behind them. As the cavalry moved with the utmost possible speed, they reached the spot where we had rested, only an hour after we had left it, and where, but for our capture of the spy, they would no doubt have found us. The hour we had, in advance of the troopers, had been well improved and enabled us to find safety from them in the Cumberland Mountains. It was then dark. We had walked rapidly for twenty-four consecutive hours, excepting the two hours of halt. The rain, which had fallen during the whole period, came down in torrents at its close. Every one suffered with fatigue, but some were so overcome by it they could not proceed at all. Soon the darkness became intense; we had almost to grope our way; no one could pick his footsteps, and there were many bruises and scratches of the flesh. But over the rocks and through the brush we had to go in the gloom of that dreadful night. At length the joyful sound of “halt!” was heard. Our guide said that we were five miles from any shelter or habitation. It must have been a dismal spot at all times. On every side arose high hills which would almost shut out the light of the mid-day sun. But in the then impenetrable darkness and pouring rain, the thick forest seemed a fit abode for evil spirits. Yet it afforded security from enemies, and we were glad to rest even there. No one of the company would be apt ever to forget the wretched night we spent at that place. After supper from our water-soaked haversacks, we lay down to rest as best we could, without blankets or other means of protection from the wet ground and drenching rain, having agreed without a dissenting voice that the place ought to be known for all time as Camp Misery!