"
The three youths responded quickly and with zeal, and Sergeant Whitley,
when he was chosen, too, nodded in silent gratitude. The night was dark,
overcast with clouds, and in an hour Colonel Winchester with his four
departed upon his perilous mission. He was to secure information in
regard to the Southern army, and to do that they were to go very near
the Southern lines, if not actually inside them. Such an attempt would
be hazardous in the extreme in the face of a vigilant watch; but on the
other hand they would be aided by the fact that both North and South
were of like blood and language. Even more, many of those in the
opposing camps came from the same localities, and often were of kin.
Dick's regiment had been stationed at the southern end of the line,
near the little town of Dover, but they now advanced northward and
westward, marching for a long time along their inner line. It was
Colonel Winchester's intention to reach Hickman Creek, which formed
their northern barrier, creep in the fringe of bushes on its banks,
and then approach the fort.
When they reached the desired point the night was well advanced, and yet
dark with the somber clouds hanging over river and fort and field of
battle. The wind blew out of the northwest, sharp and intensely cold.
The snow crunched under their feet. But the four had wrapped themselves
in heavy overcoats, and they were so engrossed in their mission that
neither wind nor snow was anything to them.
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