General Jackson held a brief council, and, when it was over, summoned Harry and Dalton to him.
“You are both well mounted and have had experience,” he said. “You understand that the army before us is not by any means the only one that the Yankees have. Shields, Ord and Fremont are all leading armies against us. We can defeat Saxton’s force, but we must not be caught in any trap. Say not a word of this to anybody, but ride in the direction I’m pointing and see if you can find the army of Shields. Other scouts are riding east and west, but you must do your best, nevertheless. Perhaps both of you will not come back, but one of you must. Take food in your saddle bags and don’t neglect your arms.”
He turned instantly to give orders to others and Harry and Dalton mounted and rode, proud of their trust, and resolved to fulfill it. Evening was coming as they left the army, and disappeared among the woods. They had only the vague direction given by Jackson, derived probably from reports, brought in by other scouts, but it was their mission to secure definite and exact information.
“You know this country, George, don’t you?” asked Harry.
“I’ve ridden over all of it. They say that Shields with a large part of McDowell’s army is approaching the valley through Manassas Gap. It’s a long ride from here, Harry, but I think we’d better make for it. This horse of mine is one of the best ever bred in the valley. He could carry me a hundred miles by noon tomorrow.”
“Mine’s not exactly a plough horse,” said Harry, as he stroked the mane of his own splendid bay, one especially detailed for him on this errand. “If yours can go a hundred miles by noon to-morrow so can mine.”
“Suppose, then, we go a little faster.”
“Suits me.”
The riders spoke a word or two. The two grand horses stretched out their necks, and they sped away southward. For a while they rode over the road by which they had come. It was yet early twilight and they saw many marks of their passage, a broken-down wagon, a dead horse, an exploded caisson, and now and then something from which they quickly turned away their eyes.
Dalton knew the roads well, and at nightfall they bore in toward the right. They had already come a long distance, and in the darkness they went more slowly.
“I think there’s a farmhouse not much further on,” said Dalton, “and we’ll ask there for information. It’s safe to do so because all the people through here are on our side. There, you can see the house now.”
The moonlight disclosed a farmhouse, surrounded by a lawn that was well sprinkled with big trees, but as they approached Harry and Dalton simultaneously reined their horses back into the wood. They had seen a dozen troopers on the lawn, and the light was good enough to show that their uniforms were or had been blue. A woman was standing in the open door of the house, and one of the men, who seemed to be the leader, was talking to her.
“Yankee scouts,” whispered Harry.
“Undoubtedly. The Yankee generals are waking up-Jackson has made ’em do it, but I didn’t expect to find their scouts so far in the valley.”
“Nor I. Suppose we wait here, George, until they leave.”
“It’s the thing to do.”
They rode a little further into the woods where they were safe from observation, and yet could watch what was passing at the house. But they did not have to wait long. The troopers evidently got little satisfaction from the woman to whom they were talking and turned their horses. Harry saw her disappear inside, and he fairly heard the door slam when it closed. The men galloped southward down the road.
Harry heard a chuckle beside him and he turned in astonishment.
“I’m laughing,” said Dalton, “because I’ve got a right to laugh. Here in the valley we are all kin to one another just as you people in Kentucky are all related. The woman who stood in the doorway is Cousin Eliza Pomeroy. She’s about my seventh cousin, but she’s my cousin just the same, and if we could have heard it we would have enjoyed what she was saying to those Yankees.”