The foliage was very heavy, and it rustled now and then as the stray winds wandered along the slopes of the Blue Ridge.

But for that and the hoofbeats of their own horses, there was no sound save once, when they heard a scuttling on the bark of a tree.

They saw nothing, but Billy pronounced it a wildcat, alarmed by their passage.
The three at length came out on a level place or tiny plateau.

Billy, who rode in advance, stopped and the others stopped with him.
"Look," said the boy, pointing to the bottom of the valley, about five hundred feet below.
A fire burned there and they could discern men around it, with horses in the background.
"Yankees," said Billy.

"Look at 'em through the glasses." Harry raised his glasses and took a long look.