The sloping guns of the swift tramping host,
Winding its way the fields and forests through,
As winds some river slowly to the coast.
The snow-white trains, the batteries grim, and then
The steady tramp of sixty thousand men."
Passing over pages filled with stories of the camp and march, and with moving pictures of the dusky throng of camp-followers who saw in the coming of Sherman's men "God's new exodus," we come to the dramatic climax:
"But on a day, while tired and sore they went,
Across some hills wherefrom the view was free,
A sudden shouting down the lines was sent;
They looked and cried, 'This is the sea! the sea!'