The Winchester regiment lay in deep woods, and the great division
although it had rested nearly all the day was quiet in the night.
But some ardent souls could not rest. A group of officers, including
Colonel Winchester and the three young members of his staff, walked
forward through the woods, taking the chance of stray shots from
sentinels or skirmishers. But they knew that this risk was not great.
They passed near a mill, its wheels and saws silent now, and presently as
the moon rose they saw the square white walls of a building shining in
its light.
"The Dunkard church," said one of the officers. "I think we'd better not
go any closer. The Johnnies must be lying thick close at hand."
"The dim light off to the right must be made by their fires," said
Colonel Winchester. "I wish I knew what troops they are. Jackson's
perhaps. It's a rough country, and all these forests and ridges and
hills will help the defense. I understand that the farms in here are
surrounded by stone fences and that, too, will help the Johnnies."
"But we'll get 'em," said another confidently.
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