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All along the road there was the wildest alarm among the inhabitants who had espoused the Union cause. They felt that their lives would be in peril as soon as the army had passed, and many of them had already packed their wagons and were fleeing toward Rolla with whatever household goods they could carry away. They abandoned homes and farms, everything that they were unable to carry, and the spectacle presented by these fleeing refugees was a pathetic one. They filled the road both in front of and behind the army, and for weeks and weeks afterward a steady stream of them poured into the Union lines. We shall have more to say about these unfortunates by and by.
At last, after many trials and tribulations, the disheartened and weary army was encamped at Rolla, where the welcome whistle of the locomotive resounded through the air. The campaign of the southwest was ended, and the footsore warriors had an opportunity to gain the rest they so greatly needed.
Jack and Harry parked their wagons with the rest of the train, and wondered what would happen next.
“We've had a lively time of it, Jack,” said Harry; “but I'm not sorry we came.”
“Nor I either,” was the reply; “and I'm in no hurry to go home. Let's wait here awhile and see what's going to turn up.”
This was agreed to, and they sat down to wait.