, who, since his
association with Mr. Rosenbaum, had gotten some idea that stealth and
cunning were efficient war powers. "We kin jest slip around out
here somewhere, and if there is any rebels, find 'em, and git more
information than the whole regiment kin."

"I'm not so thirsty for information and rebels{95} as I am for some
fresh buttermilk," said Shorty. "Somehow, I've been hankering for
buttermilk and cornpone for days. I hain't had any for a coon's age, and
it'd go mighty good as a change from camp rations. Buttermilk and rebels
sometimes grow near together. You look for one, I'll look for the other.
Mebbe we kin git both."

"I wouldn't mind havin' some buttermilk an' cornpone myself," said Si.
"But I'd like much better to drop on some rebels somewhere, and bring
'em into camp, and show that we kin git more information than the whole
regiment kin."

"All right," assented Shorty; "ask the Captain to let us go. I'll be
bound we'll find something worth goin' for, if it's no more'n a chicken
for the Captain's supper. I'd like to take in one for him. He's been
mighty good to me and you in several ways, and I'd like to show him that
we appreciate it."

As the regiment had gone as far as ordered without discovering anything
that in the least threatened the peace in that portion of Tennessee, it
would start on its return, after the men had rested and had dinner.
Si and Shorty, consequently, had no difficulty in securing the desired
permission.

They cut off through a side-road, which gave promise of leading into a
better-settled part of the country than that they had been traversing. A
mile or so of walking brought them in sight of the substantial chimneys
of a farmhouse showing above the trees. A glimpse of a well-fenced field
roused warm hopes in Shorty's heart.

"Now, I think we're comin' to a better thing than we've ever struck
before," said he, as they stopped{96} and surveyed the prospect. "We've
got out o' the barren plateaus and into the rich farming country. That's
likely a farm jest like they have up in Injianny, and it's way off where
they hain't knowed nothin' o' the war. No soljer's ever anigh 'em, and
they've jest got lots and plenty o' everything. They've got a great
big barnyard full o' chickens and turkeys, pigs and geese and guineas.
There, you kin hear the guineas hollerin' now. There's cows layin' in
the shade chawin' the cud, while their calves are cavortin' around in
the sun, hogs rootin' in