"They know every inch of these hills and valleys."
It was not a great distance to Murfreesborough, but they found the
marching slow. The feet of the horses sank deep in the mud and the
cannon and wagons were almost mired. But despite mud and rain and cold,
the army pressed bravely on. They were the same lads and their like who
had marched forward so hopefully to Donelson and Shiloh. Through the
rain and the soughing of wheels in the mud rolled their battle songs,
sung with all the spirit and fire of youth.
Colonel Winchester and all the officers helped with the cannon and wagons
and soon they were covered with mud. The Winchester regiment was in the
lead, and Sergeant Whitley suddenly pointing with a thick forefinger,
said:
"There are the Johnnies! Their pickets are waiting for us!"
Dick saw through the mist and rain a considerable body of men down the
road, most of them on horseback. He knew at once that they were Southern
pickets, and the eager lads around him, seeing them, knew it, too.
Not waiting for command they set up a shout and charged down the road.
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