"
"A fine country," said young Pennington, "and I like to look at it,
but just now my Nebraska prairie would be better for us. We could at
least see the advance of Stonewall Jackson before he was right on top
of us."
Dick took another long look, searching every point in the half circle of
the south with his glasses. Although burned by summer the country was
beautiful, and neither heat nor cold could take away its picturesqueness.
He saw valleys in which the grass grew thick and strong, clusters of
hills dotted with trees, and then the blue loom of mountains clothed
heavily with foliage. Over everything bent a dazzling sky of blue and
gold.
The light was so intense that with his glasses he could pick out
individual trees and rocks on the far slopes. He saw an occasional roof,
but nowhere did he see man. He knew the reason, but he had become so
used to his trade that at the moment, he felt no sadness. All this
region had been swept by great armies. Here the tide of battle in the
mightiest of all wars had rolled back and forth, and here it was destined
to surge again in a volume increasing always.
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