dismay. He was obliged to wait in any event, for
his artillery and the bulk of his command had been far outridden. In
this dilemma the problem was solved for him by a country girl who lived
near by, Emma Sanson by name. Near the burning bridge was a little
one-storied, four-roomed house, in which dwelt the widow Sanson and her
two daughters. She had two sons in the service, and the three women,
like many in similar circumstances in the Confederacy, were living as
best they could.

The girl Emma watched with deep interest the rapid flight, the burning
of the bridge, and the headlong pursuit of the Confederate troop. Seeing
Forrest looking with a dubious countenance at the dark stream, she came
up and accosted him.

"You are after those Yankees?" she asked.

"I should think so," said Forrest, "and would give my best hat to get
across this ugly ditch."

"I think you can do it," she replied.

"Aha! my good girl. That is news worth more than my old hat. How is it
to be done? Let me know at once."

"I know a place near our farm where I have often seen cows wade across
when the water was low. If you will lend me a horse to put my saddle on,
I will show you the place."

"There's no time for that; get up behind me," cried Forrest.

In a second's time the alert girl was on the horse behind him. As they
were about to ride off her mother came out and asked, in a frightened
tone, where she was going. Forrest explained and promised to bring her
back safe, and in a moment more was off. The ride was not a long one,
the place sought being soon reached. Here the general and his guide
quickly dismounted, the girl leading down a ravine to the water's edge,
where Forrest examined the depth and satisfied himself that the place
might prove fordable.

Mounting again, they rode back, now under fire, for a sharp engagement
was going on across the creek between the Confederates and the Federal
rear-guard. Forrest was profuse in his thanks as he left the
quick-witted girl at her home. He gave her as reward a horse and also
wrote her a note of thanks, and asked her to send him a lock of her
hair, which he would be glad to have and cherish in memory of her
service to the cause.

The Lost Ford, as the place has since been called, proved available, the
horses finding foothold, while the ammunition was taken from the
caissons and carried across by the horsemen. This done, the guns and
empty caissons were pulled across by ropes, and soon al