“Yes; the forest is not so fine as our own Adirondacks. I don’t like this country anyway. There are cypress swamps and malaria every time you turn round. Malaria has killed more of the boys than all the shots the rebs ever fired. You won’t get sick, will you?”
“I stood New Orleans in the summertime,” said the girl, “and they said down there that anybody who could live there through the summer could live anywhere. But you have not told me how you came to be down here.”
“Our regiment was sent to Corinth,” answered Dick. “With a few others I was taken prisoner during the battle there. General Van Dorn sent us to Jackson, and from there we were to be taken by rail to Richmond, Virginia. For some reason the orders were changed, and we were marched on foot to your camp. What they intended to do with us is more than I know. I tell you, I was glad to be free again.”
“You are so pale,” said Jeanne, touching him gently. “Are you well, Dick?”
“Fine! Just need a good square meal to set me up all right,” answered the boy cheerily. “I haven’t had very much to eat since you girls set me free. Just what I could find in the woods. Herbs and wild grapes, and persimmons. I eat the green ones mostly.”
“But why?” asked Jeanne mystified. “The ripe ones are ever so much better. I like them now, although I didn’t at first.”
“The green ones are best if you don’t have much to eat,” rejoined Dick. “They are fine to draw the stomach up to fit the supply. Say, Jeanne, don’t you wish we had some of mother’s doughnuts?”
“You poor, poor boy,” cried Jeanne laughing, but there were tears in her eyes. “I wish we were where we could get them. Will the war last much longer, Dick?”
“I am afraid so,” was the lad’s reply. “The rebs have played the mischief this fall, and it looks as if all our work had to be done over again. Now, Jeanne, you go to sleep, or you won’t be fit to travel to-morrow.”
“And what will you do?”