"We went to sleep nice and comfortable, under a wagon last night," said Shorty, slowly recalling the circumstances. "The two Lieutenants and the Orderly had the upper berth, and we slept on the ground-floor."
"Yes," assented Si; "and someone's come along, hitched mules to our bedroom and snaked it off."
"Just the way in the condemned army," grumbled Shorty, his ill-humor asserting itself as he sat up and looked out over the rain-soaked fields. "Never kin git hold of a good thing but somebody yanks it away. S'pose they thought that it was too good for a private soldier, and they took it away for some Major-General to sleep under."
"Well, I wonder what we're goin' to do for grub?" said Si, as his athletic appetite began to assert itself.
"Our own wagons, that we had such a time guarding, are over there in the cedars, and the rebels are filling themselves up with the stuff that we were so good to bring up for them."
"It makes me jest sizzle," said Shorty, "to think of all we went through to git them condemned wagons up where they'd be handiest for them."
Si walked down the line toward where the Regimental Headquarters were established under a persimmon tree, and presently came back, saying:
"They say there's mighty small chance of gettin' any grub to-day. Wheeler burnt three or four miles of our wagons yesterday, and's got possession of the road to Nashville. We've got to fight the battle out on empty stomachs, and drive these whelps away before we kin get a square meal."