ract. The men marched along without speech; now and then a terse
order, nothing more. The main army was before them at Strasburg; they
must catch up. To the west, somewhat near at hand in the darkness, would
be lying Fremont. Somewhere in the darkness to the east was Shields.
Their junction was unmade, Stonewall Jackson and his army passing
between the upper and the nether millstone which should have joined to
crush.

The stars began to pale, the east to redden. Faintly, faintly the swell
and roll of the earth gathered colour. A cock crew from some distant
farmhouse. The Stonewall swung on, the 65th leading, its colonel,
Richard Cleave, at its head. The regiment liked to see him there; it
loved him well and obeyed him well, and he in his turn would have died
for his men. Undoubtedly he was responsible for much of the regiment's
tone and temper. It was good stuff in the beginning, but something of
its firm modelling was due to the man now riding Dundee at its head. The
65th was acquiring a reputation, and that in a brigade whose deeds had
been ringing, like a great bell, sonorously through the land. "The good
conduct of the 65th--" "The 65th, reliable always--" "The 65th with its
accustomed courage--" "The disciplined, intelligent, and courageous
65th--" "The gallantry of the 65th--"

The light strengthened; pickets were reached. They belonged to Taylor's
Brigade, lying in the woods to either side of the pike. The Stonewall
passed them, still figures, against the dawn. Ahead lay Strasburg, its
church spires silver-slender in the morning air. Later, as the sun
pushed a red rim above the hills, the brigade stacked arms in a fair
green meadow. Between it and the town lay Taliaferro. Elzey and Campbell
were in the fields to the east. General Jackson and his staff occupied a
knoll just above the road.

The Stonewall fell to getting breakfast--big tin cups of scalding
coffee! sugar! fresh meat! double allowance of meal! They broiled the
meat on sharpened sticks, using the skillets for batter bread; they
grinned at the sugar before they dropped it in, they purred over the
coffee. Mingling with the entrancing odours was the consciousness of
having marched well, fought well, deserved well. Down the pike, where
Taylor kept the rear, burst a rattle of musketry. The Stonewall
scrambled to its feet. "What's that? Darn it all! the Virginia Reel's
beginning!" An officer hurried by. "Sit down, boys. It's just a
minuet--reconnoissance