"You're free from mosquitoes, George," he said, "but there are still
little bullets flying about, as you see."

A dozen cavalrymen were sent into the thicket, but the sharpshooter was
already far away. Colonel Hertford frowned and said:

"Well, I suppose it's the price we have to pay, but I'd like to see the
people to whom we have to pay it."

"Not much chance of that," said Colonel Winchester. "The Virginians know
their own ground and the lurking sharpshooters won't fire until they're
sure of a safe retreat."

But as they advanced the stinging fire became worse. There was no
Southern force in this part of the country strong enough to meet them in
open combat, but there was forest and thicket sufficient to shelter many
men who were not only willing to shoot, but who knew how to shoot well.
Yet they never caught anybody nor even saw anybody. A stray glimpse or
two of a puff of smoke was the nearest they ever came to beholding an
enemy.

It became galling, intolerable. Three more men were killed and the
number of wounded was doubled. The three colonels held a consultation,
and decided to extend groups of skirmishers far out on either flank.
Dick was chosen to lead a band of thirty picked men who rode about a mile
on the right, and he had with him as his second, and, in reality, as
his guide and mentor in many ways, the trusty Sergeant Whitley. It was
altogether likely that Colonel Winchester would not have sent Dick unless
he had been able to send the wise sergeant with him.