k, and many of whom were
footsore from their first long march of twenty-five miles to
Gallipolis from Hampden station, where they had been obliged to
leave the railway. The arrangement was also a good one in a military
point of view, for if an enemy were met on either bank of the
stream, the boats could land in a moment and the troops disembark
without delay.

Our first day's sail was thirteen miles up the river, and it was the
very romance of campaigning. I took my station on top of the
pilot-house of the leading boat, so that I might see over the banks
of the stream and across the bottom lands to the high hills which
bounded the valley. The afternoon was a lovely one. Summer clouds
lazily drifted across the sky, the boats were dressed in their
colors and swarmed with the men like bees. The bands played national
tunes, and as we passed the houses of Union citizens, the inmates
would wave their handkerchiefs to us, and were answered by cheers
from the troops. The scenery was picturesque, the gently winding
river making beautiful reaches that opened new scenes upon us at
every turn. On either side the advance-guard could be seen in the
distance, the main body in the road, with skirmishers exploring the
way in front, and flankers on the sides. Now and then a horseman
would bring some message to the bank from the front, and a small
boat would be sent to receive it, giving us the rumors with which
the country was rife, and which gave just enough of excitement and
of the spice of possible danger to make this our first day in an
enemy's country key everybody to just such a pitch as apparently to
double the vividness of every sensation. The landscape seemed more
beautiful, the sunshine more bright, and the exhilaration of
out-door life more joyous than any we had ever known.

The halt for the night had been assigned at a little village on the
right (northern) bank of the stream, which was nestled beneath a
ridge which ran down from the hills toward the river, making an
excellent position for defence against any force which might come
against it from the upper valley. The sun was getting low behind us
in the west, as we approached it, and the advance-guard had already
halted. Captain Cotter's two bronze guns gleamed bright on the top
of the ridge beyond the pretty little town, and before the sun went
down, the new white tents had been carried up to the slope and
pitched there. The steamers were moored to the shore, and the l