"Stronger and even more enthusiastic," Harry concurred. "Ah, there goes
the Cajun band and the other bands and our boys singing our great tune!
Listen to it!"

"Southrons hear your country call you;
Up, lest worse than death befall you!
To arms! To arms! To arms in Dixie!
Lo! all the beacon fires are lighted--
Let all hearts now be united!
To arms! To arms! To arms in Dixie!"

The chorus of the battle song, so little in words, so great in its
thrilling battle note, was taken up by more than a score of thousand,
and the vast volume of sound, confined in narrow defiles, rolled like
thunder, giving forth mighty echoes. Harry was moved tremendously and
he saw Jackson himself come out of his deep thought and lift up his face
that glowed.

"It's certainly great," said Dalton to Harry. "It would drag a man
from the hospital and send him into battle. I know now how the French
republican troops on the march felt when they heard the Marseillaise."

"But the words don't seem to me to be the same that I heard at Bull Run."

"No, they're not; but what does it matter? That thrilling music is
always the same, and it's enough."

Already the origin of the renowned battle song was veiled in doubt,
and different versions of the words were appearing; but the music never
changed and every step responded to it.

The army passed through the defile, entered another portion of the
valley, forded a fork of the Shenandoah, crossed the Luray Valley,
and then entered the steep passes of the Blue Ridge. Here they found
autumn gone and winter upon them. As the passes rose and the mountains,
clothed in pine forest, hung over them, the soft haze of Indian summer
fled, and in its place came a low, gray sky, somber and chill. Sharp
winds cut them, but the blood flowed warm and strong in their veins as
they trod the upward path between the ridges. Once more a verse of the
defiant Dixie rolled and echoed through the lofty and bleak pine forest:

"How the South's great heart rejoices
At your cannon's ringing voices;
To arms!
For faith betrayed, and pledges broken,
Wrongs inflicted, insults spoken
To arms!
Advance the flag of Dixie."

Now on the heights the last shreds and patches of autumn were blown away
by the winds of winter. The sullen skies lowered continually. Flakes
of snow whirled into their faces, but they merely bent their heads
to the storm and m