" The Yankees had gone--no one knew whither--and our
batteries were shelling the woods, feeling for them. "O, shucks."
"Hello," says Hood, "Whar in the Dickens and Tom Walker are them Yanks,
hey? Feel for them with long-range 'feelers'." A boom, boom. "Can
anybody tell me whar them Yanks are? Send out a few more 'feelers.'
The feelers in the shape of cannon balls will bring them to taw."
Boom, boom, boom.
"For the want of a nail, the shoe was lost,
For the want of a shoe the horse was lost,
For the want of a horse the general was lost,
For the want of a general the battle was lost."
Forrest's cavalry had been sent off somewhere. Wheeler's cavalry had
been sent away yonder in the rear of the enemy to tear up the railroad
and cut off their supplies, etc., and we had to find out the movements
of the enemy by "feeling for them" by shelling the vacant woods. The
Yankees were at that time twenty-five miles in our rear, "a hundred
thousand strong," at a place called Jonesboro. I do not know how it was
found out that they were at Jonesboro, but anyhow, the news had come and
Cheatham's corps had to go and see about it.
Stewart's corps must hold Atlanta, and Stephen D. Lee's corps must be
stretched at proper distance, so that the word could be passed backward
and forward as to how they were getting along.
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