his shoulders, and was armed with a sword and a revolver.
He rode in advance of all, looking sharply into the thickets and down
the ravines, to see if there were any Rebels in ambush.

The sharpshooters followed him. They wore gray jackets and skull-caps,
and were armed with rifles and long hunting-knives. They were famous
hunters, and could shoot a deer upon the run, or bring down a
prairie-chicken upon the wing. They were tough, hearty, jolly,
courageous, daring fellows. They were in good spirits, for the rebels
had fled in dismay from Fort Henry when the gunboats sent their shells
into the fort.

It was a hard march, for the roads were muddy, and they were obliged to
wade through creeks although it was mid-winter. Paul noticed one brave
fellow among them, whose feet were so sore that his steps were marked
with blood, which oozed from a hole in the side of his shoe, and yet the
man kept his place in the ranks.

"Let me carry your gun," said Paul, and so, taking it across his saddle,
helped the soldier. "You ought to be in the hospital," said Paul.

"I can't stay behind if there is to be any fighting," said the soldier,
thanking Paul for his kindness; and then, in a low tone, the soldier
said to his comrade, "There a'n't many officers like him who will help a
fellow."

At sunset the army halted in the woods beside a brook. Tents had been
left behind, and the soldiers had no shelter from the wintry air. They
cut down great trees and kindled huge fires. The farmers in that part of
the country had large herds of pigs, which roamed the woods and lived on
nuts. The soldiers had lived on salt meats for many months, and,
notwithstanding orders had been issued against committing depredations,
they were determined to have a good supper. Crack! crack! crack! went
their rifles. Some, instead of shooting, tried to catch the pigs. There
were exciting chases, and laughable scenes,--a dozen men after one pig,
trying to seize him by the ears, or by the hind legs, or by the tail.

They had a charming time, sitting around the roaring fires, inhaling the
savory odors of the steaks and spareribs broiling and roasting over the
glowing coals on forked sticks, and of the coffee bubbling in their tin
cups. The foot-sore sharpshooter whom Paul had helped on the march
cooked a choice and tender piece, and presented it to Paul on a chip,
for they had no plates. It was cooked so nicely that Paul thought he had
never tasted a more delicious