Now Dick himself heard what the sergeant had heard perhaps a half minute earlier, that is, the footsteps of two men coming swiftly down the ravine. In another minute they came in sight, Confederate troopers, obviously scouting. Luckily, the ravine being stony and the light bad, they did not see any trail, left by Shepard's troop, and they went on down the ravine. "Shall we go on?" asked Dick. "Not yet, sir," replied Shepard. "They don't suspect that we're up here, and it's likely they're trying for a good view of our army. But I fancy they'll be returning in a few minutes. We'd best be very quiet, sir." Dick cautioned the men, and they lay as still as wild animals in their coverts. In about ten minutes the two riflemen came back up the ravine, and the hidden troopers could hear them talking. "We'll try some other part of the slope, Jack," said one. "Yes, that was a bad view," rejoined the other. "We couldn't tell a thing about the Yankee movements from down there. We can leave the ravine higher up, and I know a path that leads toward the north." "There's not much good in finding out about 'em anyway. That fellow Sheridan is going to press us hard, and they have everything, numbers, arms, food, while we have next to nothing." "But we'll fight 'em anyhow. Still, I wish old Stonewall was here." "But he ain't here, and we'll have to do the best we can without him." Their voices were lost, as they passed up the ravine and disappeared. Then Dick and his little party came out cautiously, and followed. "I gather from what those two said that Early's men are depressed," said Dick. "They've a right to be," replied Shepard. "Their army is in bad shape, besides being small, and now that we have a real leader we are, I think, sure to clean up the valley." "But there'll be plenty of hard fighting." "Yes. We'll have to win what we get." The ravine widened and deepened a little, and they stopped. Sergeant Whitley in his capacity of chief scout and trailer climbed up the rocky side and looked about a little, while the others waited. He returned in two or three minutes, and Dick saw, by the moonlight, that his face expressed surprise. "What is it, sergeant?" asked Dick. "A woman is on the mountain. She passed by the ravine not long since, perhaps not a half hour ago." "A woman at such a time? Why, sergeant, it's impossible!" "No, sir, it isn't. See here!" He opened his left hand. Within the palm lay a tiny bit of thin gray cloth. "There may not be more than a dozen threads here," he said, "but I found 'em sticking to a thorn bush not twenty yards away. A half hour ago they were a part of a woman's dress. A thorn bush grows among the cedars above. She was in a hurry, and when her dress caught in it she jerked it loose." "But how do you know it was only a half hour or less ago?" asked Dick.