After riding five minutes slowly on, I came to a small field on the right of the road; in the field was a cabin. I paused, and considered. The cabin, no doubt, was deserted; but if it were occupied, what should I fear? I was in citizen's dress. If any one was now in the cabin, I might get information; if it was deserted, I could explore the ground about it, for I hoped that some path connected this place with other fields and perhaps other roads to the north. I dismounted and approached the door and knocked. There was no response. I pushed the door, and it opened; the place had been vacated. I searched the grounds; there was a well in the back yard, and I lost the hope that I should find a path leading to a spring, and perhaps beyond. I diligently and painfully continued my search, and at length was rewarded by seeing a stile in the back fence. I went back and mounted, and rode round the little field to the stile, and took the path leading from it due north. I reached the woods, and was compelled to dismount, for the branches of the trees overhung the path and constantly barred my way. Leading my horse, I continued on and came to a larger field where, at the fence, the path connected with, a narrow plantation road which I knew, from the ruts, wagons had used. I went to the right, no longer dismounted, and going at a fast trot. My road was running in a northeast course, but soon the corner of the field was reached, and then it branched, one branch going to the north, the other continuing northeast Which should I take? I could not hesitate; I rode north, and kept on pursuing this narrow road for nearly a mile, I supposed. Where I was I did not know, but I felt sure that I was flanking the rebels who had stopped the black horse. I considered the plan of trying now to get back into the main road again, but rejected the thought, for no doubt Johnston's army was stretched along this road for many miles; no doubt it was only the rear-guard picket that had turned back my unknown friend who had preceded me. I would keep on, and I did keep on, getting almost lost sometimes, passing farms and woods and streams, forsaking one path for a worse one, if the latter favoured my course, until at last, after great anxiety, and fatigue of body and mind, I reached a wide road running northwest. I had come, I supposed, four or five miles from the stile. Now I no longer feared the rebel army. That was at my left in the road to Richmond. This road I was on led up the York. The map was worthless now. Of course, I might run foul of scouts and flying parties; those people I must watch for. I supposed it was one o'clock, and that I yet had fifteen miles to go, for I had made my route much longer than the main road; but I counted that I had gained greatly, for I was in comparative safety, and had five hours yet. The road ahead I knew nothing about, but it was running in the correct course for Eltham's Landing high up on the river.