To my anxious inquiry where I would find General Forrest, “Damn if I know,” said old Abe. “About Franklin, I guess,” was all I could get. The fight at Franklin was just commencing then. I recrossed the river. I had the choice of two routes. The one up the river was shorter, but as far as I could see it lay across soft fields that would force me to ride slowly or kill my horse. The other was a good, hard road that, from the course it ran, I knew must lead into the pike on which General Hood’s army was advancing, a few miles south of Franklin. I chose the latter. I reached the pike just as Hood’s artillery was going to the front under whip and spur. There is nothing more thrilling than to see a well-equipped battery going to the front. As far as I could see up and down the pike they were rushing forward, six horses to each gun, and on the Jump. Cannoneers sitting braced in their places, stripped to the waist, yelling and laughing at everything, as if it were the most joyous thing in the world—fighting. The guns followed each other so close, and were going at such a rapid gait, that I had to watch my chance and slip across the pike. Across the pike, and marching in the field parallel with the pike, was the head of General Stewart’s Corps, just passing, the General riding in front. I knew him by sight, and I thought he might be able to give me some information as to the whereabouts of General Forrest. I slipped across the pike, jumped a wall and saluted General Stewart. The General returned my salute as politely as if I were General Hood. I told him who I was, and asked him if he knew anything about General Forrest. He said no, he had not been to the front yet, and did not know what they were doing. I had turned, and was riding with him. He then inquired of me what the cavalry were doing. I told him about the fight at the river, and added that if we could get the infantry there would be no serious fight at Franklin. He seemed to be greatly interested. Just then a staff officer came flying down the pike, jumped the wall in front of General Stewart, saluted, and said: “General Hood’s compliments; you will please move your command forward at double-quick.” While he was talking to General Stewart, I was sizing him up. He was a young, handsome, dashing looking fellow, finely mounted, and a good rider, but he looked as proud and haughty as if he commanded the whole army. I hesitated some little time before I could muster courage to address such a magnificent creature. Poor couriers did not always get courteous treatment. I think General Stewart noticed my slowness, for he turned to the staff officer, and said: “Here is a young man very anxious to find General Forrest. Can you inform him?” The fellow never even looked at me, but whirled his horse around and said, “Follow me!” He took the wall, into the pike.