Had death come more swiftly and mercifully, or was he a
prisoner and unharmed? Such were the questions that might be solved by
inquiry among the members of the company.

After some delay I found the regiment by a little stream called the Ny.
The spot on which they were camped, or rather resting under arms, was
within beautiful shelling range of the rebel batteries, as I found out
afterward to my great discomfort and dismay. Toward evening, Sergeant W.
Coleman was taken quite sick, and at his request I started with him to
find the hospital. After proceeding some distance, he became so ill that
we could go no further, and some means of conveyance must be found. A
stretcher was procured, and two men to carry him. To these I confided my
charge, and began to retrace my steps. It was now after dark, a clear,
moonless night. Crossing the little stream at the point where I had left
the regiment a few hours before, to my great disappointment not a man
could be found.

What to do was a puzzling question. The resolution was finally taken to
spend a few hours, at least, in trying to find them. At first I started
in a direction bearing toward the right, but soon met a column marching
toward the left. Reasoning that if troops were being moved to the left,
none would be moving at the same time toward the right, I fell in with
this column, determined to see what the outcome would be. Soon the open
ground was crossed, and the column began to bear to the right of its
line of march, through the woods. Presently I noticed that an unusual
silence was observed. Not a word was spoken above a whisper, every noise
and clatter incident to the march were carefully avoided.

Growing weary at length, and reflecting that after all I might be going
away from the regiment instead of toward it, I dropped out of the line
and lay down against the root of a tree close to the road, to sleep till
morning. Half sleeping and half waking I lay there, dreamily watching
that army of shadows gliding stealthily by. Shadows they seemed as they
moved hurriedly along under the gloom of the overhanging trees, as
noiseless almost as an army of spirits from Homer's nether world. The
mystery of this secret night march served to quicken imagination, and I
could see this same column grimly marshaling in "battle's magnificently
stern array" in the dim light of the coming morning, ready to burst upon
some exposed point of the enemy's line.

Opening my eyes a little later,