that form a
net-work converting the land into a series of islands. When separated
from your companions, you can easily imagine yourself in a wilderness.
In the wild woods of the Oregon there is no greater solitude."

* * * * *

"On the afternoon of the 27th, I started from the transports, and
accompanied our left wing, which was advancing on the east side of
Chickasaw Bayou. The road lay along the crest of the levee which had
been thrown up on the bank of the bayou, to protect the fields on
that side against inundation. This road was only wide enough for the
passage of a single wagon. Our progress was very slow, on account of
the necessity for removing heavy logs across the levee. When night
overtook us, we made our bivouac in the forest, about three miles from
the river.

"I had taken with me but a single blanket, and a haversack containing
my note-book and a few crackers. That night in bivouac acquainted me
with some of the discomforts of war-making on the Yazoo. The ground
was moist from recent rains, so that dry places were difficult to
find. A fellow-journalist proposed that we unite our blankets, and
form a double bed for mutual advantage. To this I assented. When
my friend came forward, to rest in our combined couch, I found his
'blanket' was purely imaginary, having been left on the steamer at
his departure. For a while we 'doubled,' but I was soon deserted, on
account of the barrenness of my accommodations.

"No fires were allowed, as they might reveal our position to the
watchful enemy. The night was cold. Ice formed at the edge of the
bayou, and there was a thick frost on the little patches of open
ground. A negro who had lived in that region said the swamp usually
abounded in moccasins, copperheads, and cane-snakes, in large numbers.
An occasional rustling of the leaves at my side led me to imagine
these snakes were endeavoring to make my acquaintance.

"Laying aside my snake fancies, it was too cold to sleep. As fast as
I would fall into a doze, the chill of the atmosphere would steal
through my blanket, and remind me of my location. Half-sleeping and
half-waking, I dreamed of every thing disagreeable. I had visions
of Greenland's icy mountains, of rambles in Siberia, of my long-past
midwinter nights in the snow-drifted gorges of Colorado, of shipwreck,
and of burning dwellings, and of all moving accidents by flood and
field! These dreams followed each other with a rapi