It was a free thing, and we pitched in. We had no idea of the enervating
effect it would have upon our physical systems, and as the water was but
little past tepid, we stayed in a good long time. But when we came out
we were as limp as dishrags. About this time the assembly sounded and we
were ordered to march. But we couldn't march worth a cent. There we had
to stay until our systems had had sufficient recuperation. And we would
wonder what all this marching was for, as the war was over anyhow.
The second day after leaving Warm Springs we came to Big Springs.
It was in the month of August, and the biggest white frost fell that I
ever saw in winter.
The Yankees were reported to be in close proximity to us, and Captain
Field with a detail of ten men was sent forward on the scout. I was on
the detail, and when we left camp that evening, it was dark and dreary
and drizzling rain. After a while the rain began to come down harder
and harder, and every one of us was wet and drenched to the skin--guns,
cartridges and powder. The next morning about daylight, while standing
videt, I saw a body of twenty-five or thirty Yankees approaching, and I
raised my gun for the purpose of shooting, and pulled down, but the cap
popped.
Pages:
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30