ad been passing
stealthily along and tripped, falling headlong. I was instantly on my
feet, and telling the men to scatter out and see what was the matter, I
hastened out toward the right, followed only by the nervous man. We
searched the ground carefully as far as the pit on our right. With our
bayonets we thrust among the brush, and examined every dark corner,
without any result. We returned, to find part of the men still at the
fire, and the rest behind the rifle-pit outside. A similar search toward
the left was equally fruitless. We never were able to explain the thing
satisfactorily, but concluded to keep out our videttes.

After the Hatcher's Run campaign, I saw one of these men in rather
unfavorable circumstances. We had been in camp a few days, and were
engaged in building our tents, when we heard the sound of a fife and
drum approaching. As they drew near, we saw a corporal and a file of
men, and in their midst one of the heroes of the picket adventure, who
had shivered over the fire that night, when he should have been out
looking for the supposed intruder. Across his back was hung a board,
about three feet long by one in breadth, on which was inscribed, in
large letters:

=COWARD.=

The musicians were playing "Rogues' March," to which the soldiers had
adapted the following touching lines:

"Poor old soldier,
Poor old soldier,
Bucked and gagged and sent to ----,
Because he wouldn't soldier."

CHAPTER XIV.

The morning of February 5th found our camp in a bustle of preparation.
We had orders to march, leaving our tents "_in statu quo_," taking only
overcoats, arms, and haversacks. General Warren was mounted on his old
gray horse. This we regarded as a sure sign that a fight was on the
programme. The column headed toward the left. Then we knew that Warren
had done well to mount the old gray. A tender spot of the Confederacy
lay in that direction. The "Southside Railroad" was the main artery that
carried life-blood to the rebel army, and was guarded with jealous care.

The morning was bright, crisp, and frosty. The men were in excellent
spirits. We had with us a number of waggish fellows that would be the
life of any company, jovial, hearty, able to bring forth a joke under
the most forbidding circumstances. One of these (Smith let us call him)
had served eight years in the regular army before the rebellion, and
had been in the volunteer service during the entire war. He was