That's what's a-stoppin' 'em.

They'll hev a turrible time gittin' acrost hit.
Hit's mouty hard crossin' at enny time, but hit's awful now, fur the Rockassel's boomin'.

The big rains hev sent her up kitin', an' hit's now breast-deep thar in the Ford.

We'll git round whar we kin see hit all." Another wide detour to keep themselves in the concealment of the woods brough Fortner and Harry out upon an acclivity that almost overhung the ford, and those gathered around it.

The two Unionists crawled cautiously through the cedars and laurel to the very edge of the cliff and looked down upon their enemies.