They saw only the dark line of
the trees, and behind them, wavering lights which they knew were the
campfires of their own army. But the lights at the distance were very
small, mere pin points.
"They look more like lanterns carried by 'coon and 'possum hunters than
the campfires of an army," said Harry.
"Yes, you'd hardly think they mark the presence of twenty or thirty
thousand men," said St. Clair. "Here we are at the cornfield. The
plants are not high, but they throw enough shadow to hide us."
They climbed a rail fence, and advanced down the corn rows. The moon
was good and there was a plentiful supply of stars, enabling them to see
some distance. To their right on a hill was a white Colonial house,
with all its windows dark.
"That house would be in a bad place if a battle comes off here, as seems
likely," said St. Clair.
"And those who own it are wise in having gone away," said Harry.
"I'm not so sure that they've gone. People hate to give up their homes
even in the face of death. Around here they generally stay and put out
the lights at dark."
"Well, here we are at the end of the cornfield, and the light is not
more than four or five hundred yards away.
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