Two weeks later, when both the regulars under Taylor and the raw volunteers had arrived, there was a total force of four thousand men at the ferry. General Henry Atkinson, U. S. Regulars, was now sent to take command of this formidable array, his rank as a regular army general giving him precedence over the redoubtable Sam Whiteside, who was only a Brigadier-General of volunteers.
CHAPTER 15
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Rock River Camp
“GOTTA have the gunsmith take a look at this ol’ piece o’ mine,” declared Pete Perkins, coming up with an ancient flintlock rifle on his shoulder. “The plaguey screw won’t grip the flint hard ’nuff ter make it strike fire, an’ it’d be jest orful ter have my flint drap when I’m pullin’ trigger on a red Injun.”
“It would be downright disconcertin’,” agreed Bill Brown.
“An’ take a peek at them mocc’sins,” went on Pete, lifting up a foot to expose the sole. “Bottoms wore ez thin ez tissue paper, with all this durned drillin’. What’s more, that’s my third pair since j’inin’ the volunteers.”
“Why don’t you get the quartermaster to issue you a pair of leather boots?” Ben Gordon proposed.
“Never owned but one pair in my life. Couldn’t git used ter ’em. They wore me ’leven y’ars. Course I never put ’em on, if I could help it, an’ I most ginerally could.”