Then he mounted
and took as straight a course as he could for General Grant's camp at
Pittsburg Landing.
The boy felt satisfied with himself. He had done his mission quickly
and exactly, and he would have a pleasant ride back. On his strong,
swift horse, and with a good knowledge of the road, he could go several
times faster than Buell's army. He anticipated a pleasant ride.
The forest seemed to him to be fairly drenched in spring. Little birds
flaming in color darted among the boughs and others more modest in garb
poured forth a full volume of song. Dick, sensitive to sights and
sounds, hummed a tune himself. It was the thundering song of the sea
that he had heard Samuel Jarvis sing in the Kentucky Mountains:
They bore him away when the day had fled,
And the storm was rolling high,
And they laid him down in his lonely bed
By the light of an angry sky.
The lightning flashed and the wild sea lashed
The shore with its foaming wave,
And the thunder passed on the rushing blast,
As it howled o'er the rover's grave.
He pressed on, hour after hour, through the deep woods, meeting no one,
but content. At noon his horse suddenly showed signs of great weariness,
and Dick, remembering how much he had ridden him over muddy roads,
gave him a long rest. Besides, there was no need to hurry. The
Southern army was at Corinth, in Mississippi, three or four days'
journey away, and there had been no scouts or skirmishers in the woods
between.
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