oman with a few kind
words, and promised to grant what she asked.

It is very difficult to refuse such requests, and yet, in point of fact,
no great hardship or sacrifice is required of these men. They profess to
be Union men, but they are not in arms for the Union, and a Federal
general now asks of them that they shall help the army for a day with
their teams. To those who come here from all parts of the nation to defend
these homes this does not appear to be a harsh demand.

We arrived at camp about five o'clock. Our day's march was twenty-two
miles, and the wagons were far behind. A neighboring farm-house afforded
the General and a few of his officers a dinner, but it was late in the
evening before the tents were pitched.

_Warsaw, October 17th._ Yesterday we made our longest march, making
twenty-five miles, and encamped three miles north of this place.

It is a problem, why riding in a column should be so much more wearisome
than riding alone, but so it undeniably is. Men who would think little of
a sixty-mile ride were quite broken down by to-day's march.

As soon as we reached camp, the General asked for volunteers from the
staff to ride over to Warsaw: of course the whole staff volunteered. On
the way we met General Sigel. This very able and enterprising officer is a
pleasant, scholarly-looking gentleman, his studious air being increased by
the spectacles he always wears. His figure is light, active, and graceful,
and he is an excellent horseman. The country has few better heads than
his. Always on the alert, he is full of resources, and no difficulties
daunt him. Planter, Pope, and McKinstry are behind, waiting for tea and
coffee, beans and flour, and army-wagons. Sigel gathered the ox-team and
the farmers' wagons and brought his division forward with no food for his
men but fresh beef. His advance-guard is already across the Osage, and in
a day or two his whole division will be over.

Guided by General Sigel, we rode down to the ford across the Osage. The
river here is broad and rapid, and its banks are immense bare cliffs
rising one hundred feet perpendicularly from the water's edge. The ford is
crooked, uncertain, and never practicable except for horsemen. The ferry
is an old flat-boat drawn across by a rope, and the ascent up the farther
bank is steep and rocky. It will not answer to leave in our rear this
river, liable to be changed by a night's rain into a fierce torrent, with
no other means of crossi