“It may be a signal.  Possibly the Southerners are replying to it with another fiery signal on this mountain.  We can’t see the crest of Massanutton from this slope.”

“You seem to know every inch of the ground in this region.  How did you manage to learn it so thoroughly?”

“I was born in the valley not far from here.  I’ve climbed over Massanutton many a time.  Not far above us is a grove of splendid nut trees, and along the edge of it runs a ravine.  I mean to lead the way up the ravine, Mr. Mason.  It will give us shelter from the scouts and spies of the enemy.”

“Shelter is what we want.  I’ve no taste for being shot obscurely here on the side of the mountain.”

“Then keep close behind me, all of you,” said Shepard.  “We’re above the steepest part now, and I know a little path that leads to the ravine.  Don’t stumble if you can help it.”

The path was nothing more than a trace, but it sufficed to give them a surer footing, and in eight or ten minutes they reached the ravine which ran in a diagonal line across the face of the mountain, gradually ascending to the summit.  The ravine itself was not more than three or four feet deep, but as its banks were thickly lined with dwarfed cedar they were completely hidden unless they should chance to meet the Southern riflemen, coming down the mountain by the same way.

The ravine at one point led out on a bare shoulder of the slope, and looking over the little pines they clearly saw a fire blazing on the crest and waving flags silhouetted before its glow.  Far below, at Fisher’s Hill, flags were waving also.

“Quite a lively talk,” whispered Shepard.  “I suppose the lookouts are telling a lot about our army.”

“But it won’t make much difference,” said Dick.  “By the time they’ve spelled out from the flags what Sheridan is doing he’ll be doing something else.”

They resumed their climb and the ravine led again into dense forest.  Sergeant Whitley had moved up by the side of Shepard, as they were now near the enemy, and his great scouting abilities were needed.  It was a wise precaution, as presently he held up his hand, and then, at a signal from him, the whole party climbed softly out of the ravine, and crouched among the little cedars.

Now Dick himself heard what the sergeant had heard perhaps a half minute earlier, that is, the footsteps of two men coming swiftly down the ravine.  In another minute they came in sight, Confederate troopers, obviously scouting.  Luckily, the ravine being stony and the light bad, they did not see any trail, left by Shepard’s troop, and they went on down the ravine.

“Shall we go on?” asked Dick.

“Not yet, sir,” replied Shepard.  “They don’t suspect that we’re up here, and it’s likely they’re trying for a good view of our army.  But I fancy they’ll be returning in a few minutes.  We’d best be very quiet, sir.”