Now and then they stopped to pull down fences, but they
still made good speed. Twice they saw at some distance cabins with the
smoke yet rising from the chimneys, but the colonel did not stop to ask
any questions. Those he thought could be asked better further on.
Twice they crossed creeks. One the horses could wade, but the other was
so deep that they were compelled to swim. On the further bank of the
second they stopped a while to rest the horses and to count the men
to see that no straggler had dropped away in the darkness. Then they
sprang into the saddle again and rode on as before through a country
that seemed to be abandoned.
There was a certain thrill and exhilaration in their daring ride.
The smoke and odors of the battle about Donelson were blown away.
The dead and the wounded, the grewsome price even of victory, no longer
lay before their eyes, and the cold air rushing past freshened their
blood and gave it a new sparkle. Every one in the little column knew
that danger was plentiful about them, but there was pleasure in action
in the open.
Their general direction was Nashville, and now they came into a country,
richer, better cultivated, and peopled more thickly. Toward night they
saw on a gentle hill in a great lawn and surrounded by fine trees a
large red brick house, with green shutters and portico supported by
white pillars. Smoke rose from two chimneys. Colonel Winchester halted
his troop and examined the house from a distance for a little while.
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