Now that Zina don’t know which side she is on. But she’s a sharp sprout though. Ye never know what she’s doin’ till she does it. Tried ter interview her about her feller. She was the most surprised thing I ever looked at. She don’t know nothin’ about courtin’. I wonder where her fun comes in? She is the bluest thing out of a grave yard. By gorry, I ain’t goin’ ter die till the time comes. I went over ter see her yesterday, and she was down on the floor cryin’, and she didn’t know what for. The old General thinks she’s got the devil in her. If she has, he’s an awful mild one. Sometimes you could knock her down with a feather. The old General don’t like women. He’s the first man er that kind I ever see. Poor little Zina, she’s always in trouble. When she heard General Halcom was took, she was jist crazy. In less’n two hours she was missing, and the guard don’t know how. I’ll bet ye tew dollars that girl is off for a fuss, or else things is deceivin’. If I was going ter give any advice, I should say, that anything that weighs less than a ton, had better get off the track. (_Firing away to R._) By gorry, there’s another fight. (_Dashes off, R. U. E._) SCENE 2. _Night._ Thunder storm rising. Flashes of lightning in the distance. Heavy forest back. A river running through at rear, half hidden among the trees. A flat-roofed log hut in rear centre. A hole cut in the roof 2½ feet square, near front, and covered with short boards nailed at one end, and so weakened by hewing that a woman’s strength might be able to break them. A rope fastened overhead, where it would dangle over rear of hut, then guyed to hang over the hole, and drawn up out of sight. A door at R. end of hut, and bar behind it. (_Gen. Halcom disc. asleep on the floor of the hut, wounded in the head. A rebel sentry pacing outside the door._) (_Enter Gen. Hood, Keele Brightly, D’Arneaux, and others, R._) BRIGHTLY. General, I have called your attention to this matter at midnight, because the circumstances admit of no delay. In yonder cabin a Major General of the union army is confined as a prisoner of war. He owes allegiance, and is a native of the state of Tennessee. As a traitor to his native state, I would suggest that he be tried at once by a drum-head court-martial, and shot as he deserves. HOOD. Why so urgent? BRIGHTLY. The federals are rapidly forcing our positions. He might be recaptured. It would be a direful calamity if he should escape. HOOD. He is but one man against us. BRIGHTLY. A hundred men, sir. A devil, without restraint. It was his division that first broke our lines at Lookout Mountain. That robbed us of our victory at Chickamauga. His men are goaded to fight like devils, while he plunges into the thickest of the fight, hewing his way through the men as if they were dummies. D’A. Such bravery merits our consideration. HOOD. For a traitor? D’A. Yes, sir, for a traitor. Though he wears the traitor’s garb, he is still one of the iron hearts of Tennessee.