The Rebel Spy by J. T. Edson Page A

nightfall,” he replied. “We have to pass the towns at night, the Yankees have garrisons in some of them.”
    Dusty and Belle exchanged glances. All too well they realised the extreme urgency of their mission; and understood what such an extensive delay might cost the South. Yet there did not seem to be any way of slipping unseen by the Yankee garrisons along the river’s banks.
    While thinking about the problem, Dusty glanced upstream and saw something bobbing in the current some way behind them. Even as he opened his mouth to give a warning, he realised the thing was a large tree either cut or torn down up-river and, having fallen in came floating down on the current. From the lack of interest in the sight shown by the Jack’s crew, Dusty concluded it must be a reasonably regular occurrence. Pinckney confirmed the view when Dusty put a question to him.
    “Trees? Sure, you see plenty of them; bushes too. I’ve seen what looked like whole islands floating down-river at times.”
    “Reckon the Yankees’d be used to seeing them, then,” Dusty drawled.
    “I’d say so,” agreed Pinckney.
    Looking at the wooded banks of the river, Dusty sucked in a breath. He did not wish to appear foolish and hesitated before offering what might be an impractical suggestion.
    “I’ve got a fool notion that you might like to try, Mr. Pinckney,” he said, and after explaining it finished, “Mind, I don’t know sic ‘em about boats or if it’ll be possible to do.”
    “It’d be possible all right, but riskier than all hell,” Pinckney answered. “Just how important is this mission you’re on, Miss Boyd?”
    “So important that its failure could cost us the war,” Belle told him. “And any delay increases the danger.”
    “Then it’s important for us to take the chance,” Pinckney decided. “We’ll give your ‘fool notion’ a whirl, Captain Fog. Take her ashore, cox’n.”
    Deftly swinging the Jack nearer to the bank, the cox’n watched for a place where there would be sufficient water close in for them to stop without running aground. Not until two miles fell behind them did he find the kind of place he wanted and during that time Pinckney explained Dusty’s scheme to his attentive crew. If the grins of the three men proved anything, they felt no concern at chancing their lives to the small Texan’s ‘fool notion’.
    With the Jack bobbing in a bay just deep enough to keep her afloat, but offering some slight shelter should any Yankee warship happen to pass, the party went to work. Taking the field glasses used by the look-out, Belle went to a place from which she could keep watch on the river and left the men to handle the work. Putting aside all thought of rank, Dusty and Pinckney helped the three enlisted men to cut branches and bushes, then take the material to the boat. With a sense of urgency driving them, the men secured their gatherings until all the upper deck and its fittings lay hidden under a ragged, yet natural-appearing, mass of vegetation. While the sailors added the finishing touches, Pinckney and Dusty discussed the dangers which lay ahead.
    “We’ll have to go with the current when anybody’s watching,” the lieutenant warned. “And stay as far away as possible from whoever is watching. It’d be best if we ran by Baton Rouge in the dark, too. The Yankees only have small garrisons in most places, but they hold the major cities with strong forces.”
    “How about fuel?” asked Dusty.
    “We’ll need to pick some up. I know of a couple of secret supplies left by the cutting parties from the different woodings.”
    Having made a long trip on a riverboat, Dusty knew about woodings. Professional wood-cutters made their living by hewing timber and collecting it at established points along the river for sale to passing boats. Pinckney explained that the Yankees destroyed some of the woodings, but maintained others to supply fuel for their vessels. Under the guise of co-operating, some of the