"Well, Mister, I don't know; set your own price." I handed her a silver half-dollar. Her eyes fastened on me. I had made another mistake. "If that is not enough," said I, "you shall have more," showing her a one-dollar Confederate note. "Oh, this is a plenty," she replied; "but I was a-wonderin' to see silver agin." "I have kept a little for hard times," I said. "You have? Well, the sight of it is cert'n'y good for sore eyes." "Can I reach Lee's Mill before dark?" I asked. "Well, I reckin you kin, ef you walk fast enough," she said; "anyhow, you kin git to the camp on this side." "Well, good day, madam; I wish you well," said I. "Good-by, Mister," she said. I had already opened the gate, when I heard her come to the door; she raised her voice a little, and said,-- "When you git to the big road, you'll be in a mile o' the mill." So long as I was in sight of the house I kept in the road, but as soon as I got through the clearing, I struck off to the right through the woods. I was seeking some hiding place where I could eat and sleep. When, early in the morning, I had seen the pickets retire from the post near Warwick, I had thought that the rebels were all withdrawing to their main lines; this thought had received some corroboration from the firing heard in my rear later in the day; I had believed the Union troops advancing behind me; but afterward I had seen other rebels at the woman's house, and I now doubted what I had before believed. Besides, it was clear from the woman's words that there was a rebel post this side of Lee's Mill, and I was yet in danger. The woods wore dense. Soon I saw before me a large road running west, the big road of which the woman had spoken, no doubt. I crept up to it, and, seeing no one in either direction, ran across it, and into the woods beyond. I went for half a mile or more, in a southwest course, and found a spot where I thought I could spend the night in safety. For fear of being detected I dug a hole, with my knife, in the earth, and piled the loose earth around the hole; then I lighted a fire of dry sticks at the bottom. Night had not yet come, but it was very gloomy in this dense thicket surrounded by woods; I had little fear that any reflection or smoke would betray me, for the thicket was impenetrable to the view of any one who should not come within two rods. I broiled my bacon and toasted my bread, and though I fared very well, yet after eating I wanted water and chose to remain thirsty rather than in the darkness to search for a spring or a stream in the woods. I quenched the fire with the loose earth; I raked up leaves with my hands and made a bed. I had no covering, but the night was not cold, threatening rain, and the thicket sheltered me from the wind. Some time in the night I awoke to find that I had dreamed of lying in a mountain brook with my mouth up stream and the water running through my whole body. My mouth was parched. I must have water at any risk.