had written a despatch to Chattanooga, and dropped a man with orders to
have it forwarded instantly, while he pushed on to save the bridges.
Part of the message got through and created a wild panic in Chattanooga,
although it did not materially influence our fortunes. Our supply of
fuel was now very short, and without getting rid of our pursuers long
enough to take in more, it was evident that we could not run as far as
Chattanooga.

While cutting the wire we made an attempt to get up another rail; but
the enemy, as usual, were too quick for us. We had no tool for this
purpose except a wedge-pointed iron bar. Two or three bent iron claws
for pulling out spikes would have given us such incontestable
superiority that, down to almost the last of our run, we should have
been able to escape and even to burn all the Chickamauga bridges. But it
had not been our intention to rely on this mode of obstruction--an
emergency only rendered necessary by our unexpected delay and the
pouring rain.

We made no attempt to damage the long tunnel north of Dalton, as our
enemies had greatly dreaded. The last hope of the raid was now staked
upon an effort of a kind different from any that we had yet made, but
which, if successful, would still enable us to destroy the bridges
nearest Chattanooga. But, on the other hand, its failure would terminate
the chase. Life and success were put upon one throw.

A few more obstructions were dropped on the track, and our own speed
increased so that we soon forged a considerable distance ahead. The side
and end boards of the last car were torn into shreds, all available fuel
was piled upon it, and blazing brands were brought back from the engine.
By the time we approached a long, covered bridge a fire in the car was