From the Journal of Issac McNamara.....#4

Zeke slapped spurs to his horse before the echo quieted. The horse having really no need for the encouragement had already began its jump. Zeke tried a look behind him and caught the rising smoke from a fired rifle way up on the hill side. Down the trail they went all the while Zeke watched for a place to turn around. As he reach Railey Creek he felt the horse bunch and the he was out over open water. They landed just shy of the other side of the creek in about two feet of water. Zeke urged his mount up the bank and into the willows were he held up. No other shots came and after a few minutes he dismounted and slowly worked his way up the creek bank. He was looking for a shallow place to cross when he herd the sound of hoofs hitting the hard packed trail. Zeke got down behind a fallen tree and readied himself. Something was coming. He could no longer see his horse, if he could have he would have seen that he had began chewing on some grass in the little clearing under the willows. The air had become still, the sounds of the forest slowly creeped back into his awareness as he strained his eyes across the creek. More noise, cautioned steps could be barely heard. Zeke felt the strain of being still, his eyes would blur from concentrating so hard and he would have to shake his head. The cry of a passing crow caused a tightening on the trigger of the rifle he carried. Across the creek he spotted movement, then a flash of brown, more movement in the brush, then nothing. Zeke laid behind the log, watching. He had learned from an old Cherokee that the eye caught more movement to the side than straight ahead. Seconds ticked by, they became minutes. Zeke laid still and so was whatever was on the other side. A puff of air washed over him drying the sweat on his forehead. The air was suddenly filled with the bray of a mule, long and loud. It no sooner had stopped when Zeke's horse answered. Mule burst through the brush, slid down the bank of the creek and made his way to the other side where he stopped right in front of Zeke.
"Mule, I almost let the air out of you...." said Zeke as he got up, " must be your lucky day."
Zeke walked back to his horse and as he prepared to mount he seen another note tied to his saddle horn. It read,
That there was the onlyest warning your going to get.
Zeke cast around for tracks and found what looked like the side of a moccasin . Other than that there was nothing to indicate that anyone had been around. He mounted and staying well back in the trees off the trail continued south. He traveled slow, by the time the sun was setting he was worn out from the strain of watching so close. He found a small cave along the James that had been used before as a camp. He put together a small fire for his coffee and broiled some bacon strips for his supper.
It was warm enough that Zeke let the fire burn down. His bed was well back under the trees were he could see the small cave where most travelers made beds. He had rolled his saddle and pack under the overhang and covered them with his blanket. his horse and mule were picketed right behind him. Suddenly he was awake, the sounds of the night had stopped. He looked up and seen both horse and mule with their heads up and ears forward against the star filled sky. By the position of the stars he knew it was past midnight yet still a while before first light. His hand closed around the butt of his revolver as he waited. There was no smoke coming from the fire which meant it was either out or past the point of smoking. No sound came to him, no crickets or frogs just silence. He lay very still. He heard mule take a deep breath and let it out. When he looked at them again they were relaxed, standing head down. What ever had been there was now gone. Zeke could not go back to sleep. He rolled out of his ground cloth and laid sticks across the white ash of the fire. After a few minutes they began to smoke then erupted into a small flame. Zeke was ready to ride as soon as it was light. He worked his way slowly down the James River watching for tracks or signs that humans had passed before him. He knew he was with in a mile or two of Yocum's old trading post. The reports they had at Galena said there was a large force gathering there. He felt there should be signs of a large force. He scanned the ground looking for where firewood would have been scavenged, he looked on trees for evidence of broken branches. He found nothing. He circled north away from the river to come in on the White river side. After searching all morning he had yet to find anything. He pulled up in a small clearing above the White stepped down from the saddle and reached into his saddle bags for a looking glass. Zeke looked over the saddle into the woods. Looking back at him from under a wild fern was a face.