always present. Just when the capital seemed safest Early's men had
appeared in its very suburbs, and here in Virginia, where the hand of
every man and of every woman and child also was against them, it was wise
to watch well.

As they rode on the country was still marked by desolation. The fields
were swept bare or trampled down. Many of the houses and barns and all
the fences had been burned. The roads had been torn up by the passage of
artillery and countless wagons. All the people seemed to have gone away.

But when they came into rougher and more wooded regions they were shot at
often by concealed marksmen. A half-dozen troopers were killed and more
wounded, and, when the cavalrymen forced a path through the brush in
pursuit of the hidden sharpshooters, they found nothing. The enemy
fairly melted away. It was easy enough for a rifleman, knowing every
gully and thicket, to send in his deadly bullet and then escape.

"Although it's merely the buzzing and stinging of wasps," said Warner,
"I don't like it. They can't stop our advance, but I hate to see any
good fellow of ours tumbled from his horse."

"Makes one think of that other ride we took in Mississippi," said Dick.

"In one way, yes, but in others, no. This is hard, firm ground, and we're
not persecuted by mosquitoes. Nor is the country suitable for an ambush
by a great force. Ouch, that burnt!"

A bullet fired from a thicket had grazed Warner's bridle hand. Dick was
compelled to laugh.