They swam the creek again,
but at another point. Carpenter told them that the Southern army would
cross it on a bridge, and Markham lamented that he could not turn and
destroy this bridge, but such an attempt would have been folly.
They finally turned into the main road along which the Southern army was
coming, although they were now miles ahead of it, and, covered from head
to foot with the red mud of the hills, they urged on their worn horses
toward the camp of Thomas.
"I haven't had much experience in fighting, but I should imagine that
complete preparation had a great deal to do with success," said Captain
Markham.
"I'd put it at sixty per cent," said Warner.
"I should say," added Dick, "that the road makes at least eighty per
cent of our difficulty in getting back to Thomas."
In fact, the road was so bad that they were compelled after a while to
ride into the woods and let their ponies rest. Here they were fired
upon by Confederate skirmishers from a hill two or three hundred yards
away. Their numbers were small, however, and Captain Markham's force
charging them drove them off without loss.
Then they resumed their weary journey, but the rest had not fully
restored the horses and they were compelled at times to walk by the side
of the road, leading their mounts. Sergeant Whitley, with his age and
experience, was most useful now in restraining the impatient young men.
Although of but humble rank he kept them from exhausting either
themselves or their horses.
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