In the morning he came upon a party of men cutting wood, and found that they were Rebel soldiers outside of the picket line. Paul took an axe and went to work, and so became one of them. When they went into camp he accompanied them, carrying the axe on his shoulder, thus passing the picket as a wood-chopper. He found three or four thousand soldiers at Fort Henry, hard at work, throwing up breastworks, digging ditches, hewing timber, mounting guns. He worked with them, but kept his eyes and ears open, noticing the position of the fort on the bank of the river, and how many guns there were. He found out what troops were there, where they came from, and who commanded them. He learned that a wagon-train was going to Fort Donelson after ammunition. He joined it and passed the picket as one of the train guards. As the wagons were empty, he had a chance to ride, and thus saved a weary walk of twelve miles. The little town of Dover, which is near Fort Donelson, he found alive with troops; regiments were arriving from Arkansas, Mississippi, Texas, and Tennessee. General Pillow was there in command. He was once an officer in the army of the United States and fought in Mexico. General Floyd was there with a brigade of Virginians. He was Secretary of War when Buchanan was President, and did what he could to destroy the Union. He was a thief as well as a Rebel. He was a large, coarse man. Paul despised him, and could hardly restrain himself from knocking the villain from his horse when he saw him ride by wearing the uniform of a traitor. There was not much discipline in the Rebel army, and Paul found little difficulty in going through all the camps, ascertaining what regiments were there. It nettled him to hear the boasts of the soldiers that one Southerner could whip five Yankees, but he said nothing for fear of betraying himself. He obtained food at a sutler's tent. He was very tired and sleepy when the second night came, but he found a place to sleep at a house in the village. "What regiment do you belong to?" asked a girl with a sallow countenance and grimy hands. "I am a scout," said Paul. "Be you a scout? Wal, I hope you will run across Old Abe Linkum. If you do, jest take his _skelp_ for me." (She meant his scalp.) "Wal, if I _cotch_ him, I reckon I'll _skelp_ him," said Paul, flourishing his knife, as if he was ready for such bloody work. "The Yanks are a set of vagabonds; they are the meanest critters on airth," said the woman. "They'll hang you if they cotch you." "I reckon I won't let 'em cotch me," said Paul. "Where be you gwine next?" "Down to Cairo, I reckon; though I go wherever the General sends me." "May be you would do a little chore for me,--get me some pins, needles, and thread?" "It is mighty skittish business, but I'll see what I can do," said Paul.