The Lost Army

by Thomas Wallace Knox

“'Just the thing,' said the whisky-dealer. 'Give me one of them slips and you can have a canteen of whisky for it.'

“The slip was cut from the sheet and handed over. The man's attention was called to the fact that it had not been signed, but he declared it was just as good, and nobody would know the difference.

“Another and another and another were cut off, and finally the whole sheet had been disposed of for canteens of bad whisky. Then somebody fished out another sheet of the same sort of stuff, and the whisky-dealer did a lively stroke of business as long as the paper lasted. Probably he worked it off on his neighbors and suffered no loss owing to the notes having been without signature.

“Well, we did n't make many prisoners at Huntsville, but the few we did make set us thinking pretty lively.

“We picked up four or five men of no particular consequence, and they were examined apart from each other to make sure that they had not patched up lies to tell us. Next we picked up two men who had left the rebel army only twenty-four hours before, for the reason that they had no weapons and were simply useless mouths to feed.

“They gave us the startling intelligence that the rebels were already advancing to attack our army. They had left the camp about twenty-five miles south of Fayetteville, but not until they actually saw the troops marching out on the road to the north. They said there were thirty thousand of the rebels, and they were commanded by General Van Dorn.

“General Vandever immediately sent off a courier with this information to General Curtis, and very soon afterward he gave the order to return to camp. We went about six miles and then camped, but before we had been in camp an hour we had a courier from General Curtis with the same information and ordering our immediate return.

“General Vandever,” continued Harry, “gave orders for us to start out of camp at two o'clock and make a forced march to rejoin the main column. Do you know what a forced march is?

“Well, it's something pretty tough when you have to make it, as it means a march without any rest until it is ended. We had forty-one miles to go that day, and it took us from two in the morning until ten at night, but we did it. It was n't so bad for the cavalry and artillery, as they had their horses, but it was terrible for the infantry. The word passed along the lines that the enemy was on the road to attack us. General Vandever had great fears that the rebels knew of our expedition and would try to cut us off at the crossing of the White river, and so he hurried on till he got the stream behind us. There was about three feet of water at the ford, and to save the infantrymen from getting their feet wet, and consequently sore, he crossed them over with the cavalry. An infantry soldier jumped up behind a cavalryman and was soon on the other side. Others climbea on the caissons of the artillery, and so by two trips of the cavalry the whole force was crossed over with dry feet.

“We only halted for about fifteen minutes at a time, and three times in all during that long day's march. The infantrymen were completely tired out when they got into camp, but they were ready for the battle the next day, and they did good work, too, you may be sure.