Our men were greatly in hopes that the enemy would push on toward our camp over the creek, where the main force was silently awaiting their approach.
But, perhaps, thinking they had seen enough of glory, they wisely concluded not to carry out their boast (as told us by deserters) of driving us into the Tennessee River.
Knowing we were at Farmington the night before, they evidently expected to flank us and cut us off from the main army, and get up a little private fight à la Shiloh.
But Gen. Pope's headquarters is not ten miles from camp, and faithful sentinels are far enough in advance to allow us to coolly get ready in line of battle, and then take a good lunch before they arrive, which is slightly different from shooting down men with trowsers in one hand and musket unloaded in the other.
(If the people of Ohio do not investigate the cause of disgrace which has been tried to be fastened upon her brave soldiers, she is unworthy of them.) But the enemy fell back, an