ws upon a threshing-floor,
and though we were always said to be victorious, the enemy seemed
none the more to run away. In this confusion, what chance had I of
discovering even the Sawyer?

Colonel Cheriton (who must have found me a dreadful thorn in the flank
of his strategy) missed no opportunity of inquiry, as he went from one
valley to another. For the war seemed to run along the course of rivers,
though it also passed through the forests and lakes, and went up into
the mountains. Our wonderfully clever and kind member of the British
army was delighted with the movements of General Lee, who alone showed
scientific elegance in slaying his fellow-countrymen; and the worst of
it was that instead of going after my dear Uncle Sam, Colonel Cheriton
was always rushing about with maps, plans, and telescopes, to follow the
tracery of Lee's campaign. To treat of such matters is far beyond me,
as I am most thankful to confess. Neither will I dare to be sorry for a
great man doing what became his duty. My only complaint against him is
that he kept us in a continual fright.

However, this went by, and so did many other things, though heavily
laden with grief and death; and the one thing we learned was to
disbelieve ninety-nine out of every hundred. Letters for the Sawyer were
dispatched by me to every likely place for him, and advertisements put
into countless newspapers, but none of them seemed to go near him. Old
as he was, he avoided feather-beds, and roamed like a true Californian.
But at last I found him, in a sad, sad way.

It was after the battle of Chancellorsville, and our army had been
driven back across the Rappahannock. "Our army," I call it, because
(although we belonged to neither party) fortune had brought us into
contact with these, and knowing more about them, we were bound to take
their side. And not only that, but to me it appeared altogether beyond
controversy that a man of large mind and long experience (such as Uncle
Sam had) should know much better than his grandson which cause was the
one to fight for. At the same time Firm was not at all to be condemned.
And if it was true, as Martin Clogfast said, that trouble of mind at my
absence had driven him into a prejudiced view, nothing could possibly be
more ungracious than for me to make light of his judgment.

Being twenty years old by this time, I was wiser than I used to be, and
now made a practice of thinking twice before rushing into peril, as I
used