They were to have a rude waking. I was lying, holding my bridle, half
asleep, when an earthquake seemed to open beneath me. A crash like
thunder accompanied it. I rose quickly, covered with dust. A glance
explained the whole. The enemy had directed a gun upon the tempting
group over which the flag rose, and the percussion-shell had fallen and
burst in our midst.
Strangest of all, no one was hurt.
Stuart laughed, and mounted his horse.
"A good shot!" he said, "look at Surry's hat!" which, on examination, I
found covered half an inch deep with earth.
In fact, the shell had burst within three feet of my head--was a "line
shot," and with a little more elevation, would have just reached me.
Then, exit Surry! in a most unmilitary manner, by the bursting of a
percussion-shell.
At nightfall the enemy was still in position, and Stuart had not
advanced.
We spent the night at a farm-house, and were in the saddle again at
dawn.
The hills opposite were deserted. The enemy had retreated. Stuart
pushed on their track down the Sperryville road, passed the village of
Griffinsburg, and near Stonehouse Mountain came on, and pushed them
rapidly back on Culpeper Court-House.
All at once quick firing was heard on our right.
"What is that?" Stuart asked.
"An infantry regiment, general!" said Weller, one of our couriers,
galloping quickly up.
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