The love-story of a "gray-jacket," at the close of the Civil War, filled with extraordinarily stirring scenes and situations.
e a huntin' after oughter run somewhar out yonder." He pointed forward into the night.
"I supposed from the map it would be found farther back and considerably to the right of us," I ventured doubtfully.
"Never saw no map, Cap," he returned, with the easy familiarity of a scout on service. "But if I recollect clear, it sure used ter run mighty close ter the east edge. I reckon it ain't changed none to speak of, an' so it'll have ter be somewhere just along thar."
He spoke with such an air of certainty that I felt any controversy useless.
"Very well; hand me your rein, and see what you can discover out there on foot. Sitting here isn't apt to mend matters, and we surely cannot afford to cripple our horses among those rocks."
The Sergeant, a gaunt, tireless mountaineer, slipped silently from his saddle, swung his light cavalry carbine from his back to the hollow of his arm, and in another moment was lost to sight in the darkness. A snake could not have slipped away more stealt