Several times during that fearful day I was tempted to rush out from my hiding-place, and defying patrols, gun-boat's crew, and all authorities, make my escape from that place of torture.
Anyone who has experienced the necessity of remaining quiet under such an infliction as an attack of millions of sandflies on a hot sunny day will appreciate my feelings.

About one o'clock we got as a diversion from our tormentors a great fright.

A boat's crew of a gun-boat lying about a mile distant from our retreat landed, and out of sheer idleness set fire to the grass about a hundred yards from where we were lying concealed.
We heard the crackling of the grass and thought of leaving our concealment at the risk of discovery; but our guide wisely remarked that the wind was the wrong way to bring the fire towards our hiding-place, so we felt safe.

The feeling of security was more pleasant, because we distinctly heard the men belonging to the gun-boat conversing with others, who clearly were patrols on the river's bank.
The evening at last closed in, and as soon as it was quite dark we moved on, and after struggling through a thick wood for half an hour, got on the high road to Washington.

We travelled by night, meeting occasional patrols, whom we dodged by either lying down or getting behind trees till they had passed.
We concealed ourselves carefully during the day, and on the third morning before daylight we were within half a mile of the city.