ntrenchments deserted.

The rain had almost entirely ceased. The night was growing. We had used
up at least an hour's time, and had made an advance of less than two
hundred yards.

I moved forward again--and back--alternately alone and with Allen
forward--until at length I reached a road running across my line
of progress.

After listening again intently and hearing nothing, I got down on my
hands and knees and crawled across the road. I could tell with my hands
that the road was cut up with ruts, and what I supposed were horses'
tracks, but it was impossible for me to know which way the
tracks headed.

Beyond the road the woods continued; I crawled on for thirty or forty
yards, and found nothing.

Then I returned to Allen, and speaking low I asked him, "What do you
think that skirt of felled timber means?"

"It means breastworks over there in the woods," said he.

"But I have been at least thirty yards beyond the road and there is
nothing. I am beginning to believe that there is not a rebel left in
these woods."

"Then," said he, "the timber was cut down with the intention of
fortifying, and afterward the intention was abandoned."

"Or else it was cut down, as a blind," said I; "likely enough its
purpose was merely to keep troops on this road from being seen."

"Still," said he, "they may be back farther in the woods."

I did not believe it. If this felled timber defended the approach to a
rebel line, we were near enough to the line to hear many noises. The
only thing I now feared was some scouting party.

It was necessary to run some risk; even if we should be fired upon, I
decided that we must learn which way the movement on the road had been.
I had Allen take off his cap, and while I lighted a match near the
ground, he held his cap over it, and we both looked with all our eyes,
moving the match back and forth over the road. The tracks all headed to
our right.

Then we both stepped quickly to the farther side of the road.

"Allen," said I, "you must stay here till I return."

"Where are you going?"

"Through the woods."

"How long will you be gone?"

"A very short time. If I am not back in fifteen minutes, you must return
to the pickets and report that there has already been a considerable
movement on the road, and that no enemy is here. I feel certain that
there are no rebels in these woods. They were here, but they have gone.
I want to get to the open ground and see what is there; it will no