The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-08-22
CHAPTER I.
NO MANS LAND.

eighteen hundred and sixty-two.
 Corinth had been evacuated more A than two months before. The ar my of the Ohio had moved east ward into northern Alabama. The president and eminent Union generals were anxious as to east Tennessee, where. it was rumored, the Confeder- ates were preparing for some new move.
 High in the Cumberland mountains a soldier in the blue and yellow uniform of a private of cavalry sat on his horse looking down on the valleys of the SeQuatchie and the Tennessee. A carbine was slung over his shoulder; a Colt's revolver was at his hip. He was long and 1.-the and graceful. About him was an air of refinement seldom found under private's uniform ex- cept during that war which called out men from all classes, both in the north and in the south His hair was denoted its possessor to be man of great mental and physical activity.
 As the soldier gazed down upon the expansive view different expressions fitted across his face. At one moment there was a serious look. such as men wear on the eve of battle; at another shrinking expression; then a dreamy one. He saw territory that lay beyond the Union lines. He wondered what warlike scenes were hidden down there within the blending of rocks and rivers and undulations, lying calm and sweet before him that summer afternoon. Were clusters of white tents there? Were brigades. divisions, army corps marching?
 Now he thought he could hear dis tant creaking of caissons and gun car r1ages. But he knew this could not be. If they were there, they were too far to be beard. The sounds never became real The young mans fancies were always broken by the actual rustic of tho leaves or some sound from the furred or feathered inhabitants of the mountains.
 Then a scene he had passed through the previous evening came up before him.
 
 of division-the finest specimen of phys ical splendor of all the generals of the Union army-one who was a year later to achieve the title of ''the Rock of Chickamauga." The general was speak ing while his subordinate was listen Ing respectfully and attentively.
 Il am ordered by the department commander to find out what is going on at Chattanooga. Our reconnoiter- ing parties have thus far brought us nothing except that there is no enemy very near. We are liable to be flanked and cut off from east Tennessee. See herer He turned to a map spread out oD pine table. Here is Chatta- nooga; nere the Sequatchie valley; up h're to the north is Knoxville, held by General Kirby Smith for the Con- federates- Here is Cumberland gap. If the enemy is concentrating at Chat tanooga. he may not only hold it against greatly superior force. but can march right along here"-he traced the route with his finger-"form a 5uncture with General Smith at Knox ville. and into Kentucky. Louisville and Cincinnati will be in danger For rest and Morgan are hammering at our communications; we get reports of immense forces of the enemy at Knox vile: everything points to this or some similar plan of campaign on the part of the Confederates. If so. they must be concentrating at Chattanooga as a point of rendezvous"
 The general paused: then looking the soldier in the eye said impressively:
 You are the only man to whom | can intrust so important mission. I can't order you. as you know, beyond our lines, except in uniform. Go as far as you dare as a soldier; I leave the rest to you. VIII you undertake 10 bring me the information we re. qnireT"
 'I will, general"
 Every we'll. The fate of this army. the success of the Union arms in the west. perhaps the prolongation of the WAT. depend upon you.''
 ane young nnan eoNed, hut seid acth- Ing
 You will need a pass to get beyond our pickets." The general drew a camp chair beside pine table and took up a pen. How will you have it writ tenT"
 Pass Private Mark Malone'-that name will do as we'll as any-'beyond our lines at will"