that night, after a march of eighteen
miles, he reaches the mouth of Abbott's Creek with his eleven hundred
men. He hears that his opponent is encamped three miles higher up on the
same stream. He sends an order back to Lieutenant-Colonel Sheldon, who
is left in command at Paintville, to bring up every available man with
all possible dispatch, for he intends to force a battle in the morning.

He requires to know the disposition of Marshall's forces, and here the
gallant scout, John Jordan, again is of service to him. While a dozen
Confederates were grinding at a mill, they were surprised by as many
Union men, who, taking them by surprise, captured their corn, and made
them prisoners. Jordan eyed the miller with a critical eye, and a plan
was instantly formed. The miller was a tall, gaunt man, and his clothes
would fit the scout. He takes a fancy to exchange raiment with the
miller. Then, smearing his face with meal, he goes back to the
Confederate camp in a new character. Even if he is surprised he will
escape suspicion, for the miller is a pronounced disunionist, and he
looks his very image.

His midnight ramble enabled him to learn precisely what it was
important for Garfield to know. He found out their exact position, and
that they had laid an ambuscade for the Union commander. They were
waiting for him, strongly posted on a semicircular hill at the forks of
Middle Creek, on both sides of the road, with cannon commanding its
whole length, hidden by the trees and underbrush.

"They think they've got you, general," said Jordan. "They're waitin' for
you as a cat waits for a mouse."

Upon a steep ridge called Abbott's Hill, the Union soldiers, tired and
sleepy, had thrown themselves upon the wet ground. There was a dense
fog, shutting out the moon and stars, and shrouding the lonely mountain
in darkness. The rain was driven in blinding gusts into the faces of the
shivering men, and tired as they were they hailed with joy the coming of
morning. For more than one brave man it was destined to be his last day
upon earth.

At four o'clock they started on their march. About daybreak, while
rounding a hill, their advance guard was charged upon by a body of
Confederate horsemen. In return Garfield gave the Confederates a
volley, that sent them reeling up the valley.

[Illustration: TURNING THE TIDE OF BATTLE AT CHICKAMAUGA]

It was clear that the main body of the enemy was not far away. To
determine this Garfield sent fo