Concealed in the Timber

Alfred wore a civilian black hat, ordinary grey shirt and wool pants under a common army blanket, but no distinctive uniform beyond a pair of cavalry top-boots in one of which he had stuck my army six-shooter such as almost everyone had picked up by that time from battlefields or friends in the cavalry. He said he had planned if discovered to pretend he belonged to the column on the road and was holding me prisoner, or if only one of them came upon us he would motion him, down with the pistol and hold him prisoner. I have always thought in either case we would have been detected and hung as spies for hanging around their line of march armed in civilian dress. For Mr. Sheridan was getting a little bold by that time, treating scouts as spies till Mosby retaliated and taught him better. Two or three strollers from the passing column walked through the brush very close but failed to notice us. One had a bridle in his hand like he was hunting a horse. All our neighbors lost their riding and work stock that day, but ours were saved by my brother Lewis with some of the plantation hands keeping them hid under a bluff on the river. The Yanks trailed them very close with a neighing horse and our "Rebel" had to be constantly jerked by the bit to keep him from answering.

About 5 o'clock in the afternoon while artillery, wagons and driven stock were still passing, the main column having gone by, we heard them shoot some worn out horses up the road and we got up and slipped through the woods towards home. It was Alfred's off day from chills and he was hungry as a bear, as I was myself, having had nothing to eat - either of us - for near 24 hours.