He slipped his clothes on again, the whole not consuming more than five
minutes, and then went on much better equipped for war than he had been
five minutes before.
Then he descended the hills and came down into a valley crossed by a
creek, which in ordinary times had plenty of water, but which was now
reduced to a few muddy pools. The Southern pickets did not reach so far,
and save for the two tiny streams in the hills this was all the water
that the Northern army could reach. Farther down, its muddy and detached
stream lay within the Confederate lines.
Crossing the creek's bed the sergeant ascended a wooded ridge, and now he
proceeded with extreme caution. He had learned that beyond this ridge
was another creek containing much more water than the first. Upon its
banks at the crossing of the road stood the village of Perryville,
and there, according to his best information and belief, lay the Southern
army. But he meant to see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears,
and thus return to McCook's force with absolute certainty.
The sergeant, as he had expected, found cover more plentiful than it was
on the plains, but he never stalked an Indian camp with more caution.
Pages:
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366