ce of
forest. The sun came up, drank off the vagrant wreaths of mist and dried
the dew from the sedge. There was promise of a hot, fierce, dazzling
day. Another halt. "What's the matter this time?" asked the men. "God! I
want to march on--into something happening!" Rumour came back. "Woods in
front of us full of something. Don't know yet whether it's buzzards or
Yankees. Get ready to open fire, anyway." All ready, the men waited
until she came again. "It's men, anyhow. Woods just full of bayonets
gleaming. Better throw your muskets forward."

The column moved on, but cautiously, with a strong feeling that it, in
its turn, was being watched--with muskets thrown forward. Then suddenly
came recognition. "Grey--grey!--See the flag! They're ours! See--"
Rumour broke into jubilant shouting. "It's the head of Jackson's column!
It's the Valley men! Hurrah! Hurrah! Stonewall! Stonewall Jackson!
Yaaaih! Yaaaaaihhhh!--'Hello, boys! You've been doing pretty well up
there in the blessed old Valley!' 'Hello, boys! If you don't look out
you'll be getting your names in the papers!' 'Hello, boys! come to help
us kill mosquitoes? Haven't got any quinine handy, have you?' 'Hello,
boys! Hello Kernstown, McDowell, Front Royal, Winchester, Harper's
Ferry, Cross Keys, Port Republic! Yaaaih! Yaaaaaihh!' 'Hello, you damned
Cohees! Are you the foot cavalry?'--65th Virginia, Stonewall Brigade?
Glad to see you, 65th! Welcome to these here parts. What made you late?
We surely did hone for you yesterday evening. Oh, shucks! the best
gun'll miss fire once in a lifetime. Who's your colonel? Richard Cleave?
Oh, yes, I remember! read his name in the reports. We've got a good one,
too,--real proud of him. Well, we surely are glad to see you fellows in
the flesh!--Oh, we're going to halt. You halted, too?--Regular love
feast, by jiminy! Got any tobacco?"

A particularly ragged private, having gained permission from his
officer, came up to the sycamore beneath which his own colonel and the
colonel of the 65th were exchanging courtesies. The former glanced his
way. "Oh, Cary! Oh, yes, you two are kin--I remember. Well, colonel, I'm
waiting for orders, as you are. Morally sure we're in for an awful
scrap. Got a real respect for Fitz John Porter. McClellan's got this
army trained, too, till it isn't any more like the rabble at Manassas
than a grub's like a butterfly! Mighty fine fighting machine now. Fitz
John's got our old friend Sykes and the Regulars. Tha