but of course the North is aroused to the danger of the country, and volunteering goes bravely on. No more child's play now, and everyone is alive to the emergency, all feeling that the rebellion is on its last legs, in spite of the feeling of our John Bull neighbors, who are, to a certain extent, responsible for prolonging the war thus far, with their Alabamas and blockade runners. But look out Mr. Bull, for the American eagle may some day make you pay for your double-dealing, and come down and pick the eyes out of your head for interfering in Uncle Sam's affairs. A twenty days' furlough does not take long to end, and I must leave my friends once more. Hurrah for the army again, and I arrive safe among my comrades, refreshed after my furlough, and ready to enter into the same routine of camp life. The siege is progressing lively, and every one is anxious for the order to forward on the last. campaign and end this cruel war. Everything is quiet at present, but the winter is passing by, and we look forward for lively times before long. Well, let them come, for all are getting tired of this long war, and every man is anxious to see the end. CHAPTER XLVII. NEW QUARTERS-DRAWING RATIONS-ARMY COOKING-SUNDAY INSPECTION-CAMP LIFE-ORDERS TO MOVE. In the army, it is necessary, so our superiors think, but sometimes we poor soldiers would rather be excused, to keep changing positions with other soldiers, and vice versa. We get relieved in the fort and get back into the woods, and build more quarters. The woods are heavy timbered, and soon men wtih axes are busy felling the monarchs of the forest for new winter quarters. All are as busy as bees, and the buzz of the men at work through the different camps make a noise like lumbermen at work in their camps. Comfortable quarters, good hospitals and churches rise up as if by magic. We are very comfortable again and all are as happy as circumstances will permit. One of the most peculiar features of a solder's life is the drawing of his rations. Everything in our army goes like clock-work, from the Army Quartermaster down to the Orderly Sergeant who deals out the sugar, coffee, pork, beef, and hard-tack, or hard bread, to his company, who gather around him like chickens around an old hen, to get their daily food. To us in the field it does not seem anyway strange to flock around and receive our coffee and sugar by the spoonful as fast as the names are called, but to an outsider the sight must be a strange one. Another feature in a soldier's life in camp is cooking his rations. We are not very particular how we cook our pork. Sometimes we fry it in a tin spider, which we make by cutting in two a canteen; other times we punch our ramrods through a slice and let it fry over the camp fire, and, in order not to lose any of the grease, we hold a hard-tack under and let the gravy drop on it, which answers very well for butter. We have different ways of cooking hardtack. At first we could not manage it very well, but necessity is always the mother of invention, and during our four years campaigning we have found out a good many ways to make our life more comfortable than at first. The best way we find to make hard bread palatable is to soak in cold water, then fry in a spider with the fat of pork. Of course, butter would be better, but that luxury is out of the question, unless we pay an extravagant price for it to the sutler. Hot water will not soften hard-tack, but will make it as tough as leather. Our "concentrated soup" will bear a brief mention. Vegetables of all kinds are pressed together and made as hard as a stone-potatoes, onions, parsnips, carrots, cabbage, pepper, salt, and garlick, are mixed up in a solid mass, so when boiled about ten hours it makes a delicious soup, but it is not much of a favorite with many soldiers, because of a sickish taste there is to it. There is nothing a soldier likes better than his coffee, without it he could not live in the field. In about ten minutes after we halt we can sip our favorite beverage. On the campaigns "concentrated soup" is out of the question, for we do not stay long enough in a place to cook it. 1 The Sunday morning inspection in camp will bear a brief mention. It takes place after guard mount, on the parade ground. Each man must appear to the best advantage he can. His brasses must be cleaned and his musket in good order; knapsacks packed tidy, and everything about him must be as neat as possible. The band form on the parade ground, the companies march to the music and form as if on parade. The Adjutant turns and salutes the Colonel, telling him the batallion is formed. The Colonel then gives the order for the companies to right wheel, the right of the companies standing still, thus leaving a space between each company. Then the front ranks come to an about face, so as to face the rear rank, which has stepped to the rear about four paces, before the front rank has got the order to face about, thus leaving a space between both ranks for the inspecting officer to pass through. Unsling knapsacks," is the order after "ground arms," 66 and each man puts his knapsack at his feet, unpacked and the contents laid bare to open inspection. It is funny sometimes to see the contents, especially after a campaign. A soldier has perhaps a shirt, a pair of socks, and a prayer book or testament. Some have more, and some less, more generally the latter, but in winter-quarters, where there is a chance to have plenty of clothing, the knapsack of a tidy soldier is worth looking at. The overcoat is folded in a nice roll and strapped on top; the blankets, shirts, drawers and socks, with a soldier's album, which almost every soldier carries with the pictures of dear and loving friends at home. All have their proper places in the knapsack. The inspecting officer inspects the right company first, the band playing, meanwhile, a slow tune. As fast as one company are inspected they go to their quarters. It takes about two hours to inspect the whole regiment, which makes it tedious for the last company, who have to wait for their turn. Camp life now is getting tedious, but the monotony is broken by orders to march with three days' rations in haversacks and the usual forty rounds of ammunition. The weather is very fine, and everybody feels good. All are ready for the next move, which is to go to the support of the Fifth Corps, who are fighting, away to the left of our lines. CHAPTER XLVIII. ON THE MOVE ONCE MORE-ACROSS HATCHER'S RUN AGAIN On Sunday Morning, February 5, 1864, we file out of our late camp, and move to the left. Crossing Hatcher's Run we strike the enemy, and have quite a skirmish with them. They outnumber us, as in every other place, and we set too and build breastworks. In a short time we have formidable works built with all the fence rails within reach, and are ready for the Johnny's charge; but they are satisfied with a skirmish, and no charge is made. In the meantime. the Fifth corps are heavily engaged to our right, and about five o'clock we get the order to go their support. A forced march brings us to their relief, but night puts an end to the conflict, which had been a severe one, and both parties suffered heavily in killed and wounded. The gallant Fifth corps fought this battle alone, and made some of the finest charges of the war. The fine weather of the past few days has been interrupted by a cold, drizzling rain. We lay around here for a few days in great misery, the eyes melted almost out of our heads with the smoke that stays around from the numerous camp fires that are built to keep us warm. Oh. what a miserable time, wet to the skin, ragged and dirty, with the scalding water rolling down our cheeks, caused by the smoke. Surely, this is another blunder, caused by |