"The same tale they tell to Dick, sir. It looks to me like a wilderness."

"And so it is. It's a low-lying region of vast forests and thickets,
of slow deep rivers and creeks, and of lagoons and bayous. If Northern
troops want to be ambushed they couldn't come to a finer place for it.
Forrest and five thousand of his wild riders might hide within rifle shot
of us in this endless mass of vegetation. And so, my lads, it behooves
us to be cautious with a very great caution. You will recall how we got
cut up by Forrest in the Shiloh time."

"I do, sir," said Dick and he shuddered as he recalled those terrible
moments. "This is Mississippi, isn't it?"

Colonel Winchester took a small map from his pocket, and, unfolding it,
examined it with minute care.

"If this is right, and I'm sure it is," he replied, "we're far down in
Mississippi in the sunken regions that border the sluggish tributaries of
the Father of Waters. The vegetation is magnificent, but for a home give
me higher ground, Dick."

"Me too, sir," said Warner. "The finest state in this Union is Vermont.
I like to live on firm soil, even if it isn't so fertile, and I like to
see the clear, pure water running everywhere, brooks and rivers."

"I'll admit that Vermont is a good state for two months in the year,"
said Dick.

"Why not the other ten?"