March!_" Discretion was at last entirely
the better part of valour. Strasburg was fourteen miles away; over hill
and dale rose and fell the road that ran that way. Off, off! and some
might yet escape--or it might please the gods to let him meet with
reinforcements! His guns ceased with their canister and limbering up
thundered away toward the sun, now low and red in the heavens. The
infantry followed; the small cavalry force bringing up the rear, now
deployed as skirmishers, now rallying and threatening the grey footmen.

The Shenandoah was impetuous, deep, turbid, with many eddies, lifted by
the spring rains almost level with its banks. The horses liked it
not--poor brutes! They shuddered, whinnied, glared with distended,
bloodshot eyes. Once in, they patiently did their best. Each was owned
by its rider, and was his good friend as well as servant. The
understanding between the two could not be disturbed, no, not even by
the swollen Shenandoah! The trooper, floating free upon the down-stream
side, one hand on mane, or knees upgathered, and carbine held high,
squatting in the saddle on the crossed stirrups, kept up a stream of
encouragement--soft words, pet names, cooing mention of sugar (little
enough in the commissariat!) and of apples. The steed responded. The god
above or beside him wished it thus, and certainly should be obeyed, and
that with love. The rough torrent, the eddies, the violent current were
nothing--at least, not much! In column of twos the horses breasted the
river, the gods above them singing of praise and reward. They neared the
western shore and the green, overhanging trees, touched bottom, plunged
a little and came out, wet and shining, every inch of metal about them
glinting in the level rays of the sun.

High on the bank Stonewall Jackson with Flournoy and his aides, the
first to cross, watched that passage of the squadrons. Little Sorrel,
slow and patient, had perhaps been, in his own traversing, the one steed
to hear no especial word of endearment nor much of promise. He did not
seem to miss them; he and Jackson apparently understood each other. The
men said that he could run only one way and that toward the enemy.

Far down the Front Royal and Winchester turnpike, through a fair farming
country, among cornfields and orchards, the running fight continued. It
was almost sunset; long shadows stretched across the earth. Scene and
hour should have been tranquil-sweet--fall of dew, vesper song of