After a stop of an hour he remounted and rode on again, but the horse
was still feeling his great strain, and he did not push him beyond a
walk. He calculated that nevertheless he would reach headquarters not
long after nightfall, and he went along gaily, still singing to himself.
He crossed the river at a point above the army, where the Union troops
had made a ferry, and then turned toward the camp.
About sunset he reached a hill from which he could look over the forest
and see under the horizon faint lights that were made by Grant's
campfires at Pittsburg Landing. It was a welcome sight. He would soon
be with his friends again, and he urged his horse forward a little
faster.
"Halt!" cried a sharp voice from the thicket.
Dick faced about in amazement, and saw four horsemen in gray riding from
the bushes. The shock was as great as if he had been struck by a bullet,
but he leaned forward on his horse's neck, kicked him violently with
his heels and shouted to him. The horse plunged forward at a gallop.
The boy, remembering General Buell's instructions, slipped the letter
from his pocket, and in the shelter of the horse's body dropped it to
the ground, where he knew it would be lost among the bushes and in the
twilight.
"Halt!" was repeated more loudly and sharply than ever. Then a bullet
whizzed by Dick's ear, and a second pierced the heart of his good horse.
He tried to leap clear of the falling animal, and succeeded, but he fell
so hard among the bushes that he was stunned for a few moments.
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