When we had gone two miles or more, we found a provost column drawn across the road, and a mounted officer interrogating all who attempted to pass:—
"Stop there! You're not wounded."
"Pass on! Halt boy! Go back. Men, close up there. Stop that boy."
"I am sun-struck, Major."
"You lie! Drive him back. Go back, now!"
Beyond this the way was comparatively clear; but as I knew that other guards held the road further on, I passed to the right, and with the hope of finding a rill of water, went across some grass fields, keeping toward the low places. The fields were very still, and I heard only the subdued noises wafted from the road; but suddenly I found myself surrounded by men. They were lying in groups in the tall grass, and started up suddenly, like the clansmen of Roderick Dhu. At first I thought myself a prisoner, and these some cunning Confederates, who had lain in wait. But, to my surprise, they were Federal uniforms, and were simply skulkers from various regiments, who had been hiding here during the hours of battle. Some of these miserable wretches asked me the particulars of the fight, and when told of the defeat, muttered that they were not to be hood-winked and slaughtered.
"I was sick, anyway," said one fellow, "and felt like droppin' on the road."
"I didn't trust my colonel," said another; "he ain't no soldier."
"I'm tired of the war, anyhow," said a third, "and my time's up soon; so I shan't have my head blown off."