sed, and not many stars
were out. Clouds indicated that flurries of rain might come, but he did
not view them now with apprehension. Darkness and rain would help a
herald to Lee. The current was strong, and he did not have to pull hard,
but, observing presently that the far shore was fringed with bushes,
he sent the boat into their shadow.

He did not anticipate any danger from the southern shore, but the old
inherited caution of the forest runners was strong within him. Under the
hanging bushes he was well hidden, but, in some places, the flood in the
river had turned the current back upon itself, and he was compelled to
pull with vigor on the oars.

The clouds that had threatened did not develop much, and while the
forests were dark, the surface of the river showed clearly in the faint
moonlight. Any object upon it could be seen from either bank, and Harry
was glad that he had sought the shelter of the overhanging bushes.
He realized now that in this region, which was really the theater of war,
many scouts and skirmishers must be about.

The bank above him was rather high and quite steep, for which he was glad,
as it afforded protection. A half mile farther down he came to the mouth
of a creek coming in from the South, and just as he passed it he heard
voices on the bank. He held his boat among the bushes on the cliff and
listened. Several men were talking, but he judged them to be farmers,
not soldiers. Yet they talked of the battle that night, and Harry
surmised that they were looking at the lights in the Southern camp which
might yet be visible from the high point on which they stood. He could
not gather from their words whether they were Northern or Southern
sympathizers, but it did not matter, as he had no intention of speaking
to them, hoping only that they would go away in a few minutes and let him
continue his journey unseen.

His hope speedily came to pass. He heard their voices sinking in the
distance, and leaving the shelter of the bushes he pulled down the stream
once more. Then he found that he had deceived himself about the clouds.
If they had retired, they had merely recoiled, to use the French phrase,
in order to gather again with greater force.

During his short stay among the bushes at the foot of the cliff the whole
heavens had blackened and the air was surcharged with the heavy damp and
tensity that betoken a coming storm. The lightning blazed across the
river thrice, and he heard