“You ought to be able to render me valuable service,” he said.

When I replied that I should be only too glad to do so, he got out a map of Tennessee, and on it showed me where he believed General Forrest’s command to be located.  His best information was that the Confederate commander was then in the neighborhood of Okolona, Mississippi, about two hundred miles south, of Memphis.

He instructed me to disguise myself as a Tennessee boy, to provide myself with a farm horse from the stock in the camp, and to try to locate Forrest’s main command.  Having accomplished this, I was to gather all the information possible concerning the enemy’s strength in men and equipment and defenses, and to make my way back as speedily as possible.

General Smith expected to start south the following morning, and he showed me on the map the wagon road he planned to follow, so that I might know where to find him on my return.  He told me before we parted that the mission on which he was sending me was exceedingly dangerous.  “If you are captured,” he said, “you will be shot as a spy.”

To this I replied that my Indian scouting trips had been equally dangerous, as capture meant torture and death, yet I had always willingly undertaken them.

“Do you think you can find Forrest’s army?” he said.  “Well, if you can’t find an army as big as that you’re a mighty poor scout,” he said grimly.

General Smith then turned me over to the man who was in charge of what was called “the refuge herd,” from which I found a mount built on the lines of the average Tennessee farm horse.  This man also provided me with a suit of farmer’s clothing, for which I exchanged my new soldier uniform, and a bag of provisions.  Leading me about a mile from camp, he left me with the warning: 

“Look out, young fellow.  You’re taking a dangerous trip.”  Then we shook hands and I began my journey.

I had studied carefully the map General Smith had shown me, and had a fairly accurate idea of the direction I was supposed to take.  Following a wagon road that led to the south, I made nearly sixty miles the first night.  The mare I had chosen proved a good traveler.

When morning came I saw a big plantation, with the owner’s and negroes’ houses, just ahead of me.  I was anxious to learn how my disguise was going to work, and therefore rode boldly up to the house of the overseer and asked if I could get rest and some sort of breakfast.

In response to his inquiries I said I was a Tennesseean and on my way to Holly Springs.  I used my best imitation of the Southern dialect, which I can still use on occasion, and it was perfectly successful.  I was given breakfast, my mare was fed, and I slept most of the day in a haystack, taking up my journey again immediately after dinner.

Thereafter I had confidence in my disguise, and, while making no effort to fall into conversation with people, I did not put myself out to evade anyone whom I met.  None of those with whom I talked suspected me of being a Northern spy.