"They bear supplies for the Southern army," said Captain Markham.
"We can cut off the passage of boats on this river and for that reason,
so General Thomas concludes, the Southern army is going to attack us.
What do you think of his reasoning, sergeant?"
"Beggin' your pardon, sir, for passin' an opinion upon my general,"
replied Sergeant Whitley, "but I think his reasons are good. Here it is
the dead of winter, with more mud in the roads than I ever saw before
anywhere, but there's bound to be a battle right away. Men will fight,
sir, to keep from losin' their grub."
A man rode forward from the ranks, saluted and asked leave to speak.
He was a native of the next county and knew that region well. Two miles
east of them and running parallel with the road over which they had come
was another and much wider road, the one that they called the big road.
"Which means, I suppose, that it contains more mud than this one,"
said Captain Markham.
"True, sir," replied the man, "but if the rebel army is advancing it is
likely to be on that road."
"That is certainly sound logic. At least we'll go there and see.
Can you lead us through these woods to it?"
"I can take you straight across," replied the man whose name was
Carpenter. "But on the way we'll have to ford a creek which is likely
to be pretty deep at this time of the year."
"Show the way," said Captain Markham briskly.
They plunged into the deep woods, and Carpenter guided them well.
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