had already sent a force to scour the
left bank of that stream, and deeming it important that cavalry should
ride the right bank also, to pick up, if not Jeff himself, information
that would determine more definitely his whereabouts, ordered Colonel
Minty to furnish a regiment for that purpose, and he selected the Fourth
Michigan Cavalry. Lieutenant-Colonel Pritchard was sent for, and
received his orders with the map spread out before him, noting carefully
the fords and ferries of the river, with the roads leading to and from
them, and being enjoined to put all under the strictest watch, unless he
got information of Davis having crossed the river, in which case he was
to exercise his own judgment in pursuing him. How happily that energetic
officer carried out his orders the sequel shows.

All cavalry movements commence with the "Bugle Call"; and on the seventh
of May, at eight o'clock, P. M., the "General" sounded in our camp.
Tents were thereupon struck, saddles packed, and full preparations made
to march. A half-hour later "Boots and Saddles" rang out, and speedily
followed, "To Horse"; then there was mounting with deliberate haste "the
steed" or mule, and the "mustering squadrons" went pouring forward in
the moonlight, on their night's march. Our course was to Hawkinsville, a
village on the bank of the Ocmulgee River. The air was warm, the roads
very dusty, and towards morning there were gathering signs of rain. The
country passed over was nearly a pine barren, thinly inhabited, but
showing some, though very few, good plantations.

A little after daylight we halted to rest the men and horses, and feed.
Corn was got from a plantation-crib near; and while the horses fed, the
men busied themselves with their own breakfasts or stretched themselves
out to sleep. At eight o'clock it began to rain, a warm, welcome rain,
that laid the dust that was so suffocating even under the night-air.
After noon we set out again, and, passing through Hawkinsville, we
bivouacked for the night about three miles beyond, having travelled
since we left Macon fifty odd miles. The rain fell in torrents,
accompanied by thunder and lightning, which, by the way, gave rise to
an occurrence that illustrates to what little accidents oftentimes men
may owe the preservation of their lives. Lieutenant Fisk had thought to
pitch his tent at the foot of a proud pine, but observing the ground
dished at that point, he chose a spot a few feet distant, which