to
smoke, but the cold whipped his blood into a quicker torrent. He hummed
snatches of the songs that he had heard Samuel Jarvis sing, and went on
mile after mile through the high hills toward the low hills of Kentucky.

Dick did not pass many people. The ancient name of his state--the Dark
and Bloody Ground--came back to him. He knew that war in one of its
worst forms existed in this wild sweep of hills. Here the guerillas
rode, choosing their sides as suited them best, and robbing as paid them
most. Nor did these rough men hesitate at murder. So he rode most of the
time with his hand on the butt of the pistol at his belt, and whenever
he went through woods, which was most of the time, he kept a wary watch
to right and to left.

The first person whom he passed was a boy riding on a sack of grain to
mill. Dick greeted him cheerfully and the boy with the fearlessness of
youth replied in the same manner.

"Any news your way?" asked Dick.

"Nothin' at all," replied the boy, his eyes enlarging with excitement,
"but from the way you are comin' we heard tell there was a great battle,
hundreds of thousands of men on each side an' that the Yankees won. Is
it so, Mister?"

"It is true," replied Dick. "A dozen people have told me of it, but the
armies were not quite so large as you heard. It is true also that the
Yankees won."

"I'll tell that at the mill. It will be big news to them. An' which way
be you goin', Mister?" said the boy with all the frankness of the hills.

"I'm on my way to the middle part of the state. I've been looking after
some land that my people own in the mountains. Looks like a lonesome
road, this. Will I reach any house soon?"

"Thar's Ben Trimble's three miles further on, but take my advice an'
don't stop thar. Ben says he ain't goin' to be troubled in these war
times by visitors, an' he's likely to meet you at the door with his
double-barreled shotgun."

"I won't knock on Ben's door, so he needn't take down his
double-barreled shotgun. What's next beyond Ben's house?"

"A half mile further on you come to Hungry Creek. It ain't much in the
middle of summer, but right now it's full of cold water, 'nough of it to
come right up to your hoss's body. You go through it keerful."

"Thank you for your good advice," said Dick. "I'll follow it, too.
Good-bye."

He waved his gauntleted hand and rode on. A hundred yards further and
he glanced back. The boy had stopped on the crest of a hill, and was
l