It goes nearly to the north, and at last reaches the Potomac.
A half mile from the crossin' ahead it runs through steep, high banks that come right down to its edges, but the creek bottom is smooth enough for the horses.

I 'low I make myself plain enough, don't I, Mr.Captain ?" "You do, Mr.Lankford, and you're an angel in homespun.

Without you we could never do what we want to do.

Lead the way to that blessed creek.
We don't want any of the Yankee vanguard to see us when we turn and follow its stream." "We can make it easy.

They might guess that we're ridin' in the water to hide our tracks, but the bottom is so rocky they won't know whether we've gone up or down the stream.