There was a broad valley running parallel to the road we were
traveling and covered by a dense growth of low oaks, which effectually
hid roads, streams, and even the few lonely habitations of the people.
But, looking from our eminence over the unbroken expanse of tree-tops,
we could see a light yellow snake-like line stretching down the valley.
It was dust from the road on which Bragg's army was hurrying toward the
Rossville Pass, through which was the way to Chattanooga and all our
communications and supplies. The line of dust extended miles down the
valley, far in advance of the point we had reached. The rest of our army
might be ahead of us and ahead of Bragg, or it might be on our left, or
even behind us, for aught we knew, but it was plain enough why we were
making such haste back toward Chattanooga.
The afternoon passed: darkness came, and still the march continued. Late
in the evening we came upon a group of tents by the roadside--Rosecrans's
head-quarters, with Rosecrans himself, and not in the best of humors, as
some of us discovered on riding up to see friends on his staff. In his
petulance and excitability the commanding general forgot to be gentlemanly,
some of them said; and they left him not at all relieved of any doubts they
had concerning our sudden and forced march.
It was long after midnight when we reached Gordon's Mills. Here the road
was full of ambulances, wagons, artillery and infantry, while in the
thickets on the left were heard the confused noises of the bivouac.
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