That night the Colonel sent for Captain Wardle and told him that he had been informed of a body of rebels collecting on the headwaters of Wolf creek, not more than three or four miles from Snagtown, and instructed him to take sixty of his own company and fifty of the new recruits and proceed there the next day, starting early in the morning, to break up the rebel camp, and capture every person found there.
There was another motley and undisciplined body of men encamped on Wolf creek. Wolf creek was a clear rapid stream, whose fountain-head was in the Twin Mountains. It came dashing down their craggy sides in many small rivulets, which, at their base, united to form this beautiful stream that flowed through a dark, dense forest in the valley, passing at one place within a half a mile of Snagtown.
The camp, however, was three or four miles further up the stream, in what the military leaders considered a more advantageous location, on the main road that led from Snagtown by the Twin Mountains to a village beyond.
The numbers of the Confederates were increasing daily. As soon as the volunteers went into camp, those in sympathy with the cause came in from all the country round, until between three or four thousand men had assembled, ill armed, undisciplined, confident, and full of enthusiasm. But one company had yet elected officers. Colonel Scrabble, an old Mexican soldier, was commander-in-chief of this force. Of the organized company, Oleah Tompkins was second lieutenant and Patrick Henry Diggs was corporal.
Mr. Diggs had experienced considerable disappointment when the company failed to elect him captain; when a vote was taken for first lieutenant, he made a speech which secured him two votes; for second lieutenant, Oleah Tompkins was chosen. He was about to retire from the field and from the army, and had even applied for his discharge, when the captain appointed him corporal.
He did not like to accept a position so insignificant, but, when he reflected that there were a number of corporals who had risen to be generals, and that the prospect for his promotion was good, he became pacified, and very reluctantly assumed the office.
The spot where the Confederates were encamped had formerly been used for holding camp meetings; it was a grove, surrounded on every side by a dense forest and the high road, which led past the place, approached it in so circuitous a manner that it could not be seen fifty rods either way.
The Confederates had chosen so secluded a spot that it was evident they wished their camp concealed. Wolf Creek bounded their camping ground on one side. The tents were fantastic affairs, and could vie even with those of the Junction in variety of shape and material, and showed quite as great a lack of skill in arrangement. The men were of almost every class, dress, and nation; but the dark, sharp-cut Southern feature predominated.
They were firey, quick-tempered men, whose rashness nearly always excelled their judgment. Most of them were dressed in the garb of Virginia farmers, without any appearance or pretense to uniform. Their arms were shot-guns, rifles, and ancient muskets—a few of them excellent, but the majority inferior. As a class, they were men who enjoyed fox chases, wolf hunts, and horse races, and the present phase of their life they appeared to regard as a frolic.
Camp fires were smoldering, and camp kettles hung suspended over them. As at the Junction, there was a great deal of talk about camp life, and suggestions by the score were indulged in. The sergeants walked about with much dignity, and our corporal had grown to feel the importance of his office; he had the drill manual constantly in his hands, and conned its pages with the uttermost diligence.