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 In sharp contrast with the mess-cooking at the big fire was the serious and diligent work of the man separated from his comrades, out of reach of the woods, but bent on cooking and eating. He has found a coal of fire, and having placed over it in an ingenious manner the few leaves and twigs near his post, he fans the little pile with his hat. It soon blazes. Fearing the utter consumption of his fuel, he hastens to balance on the little fire his tin cup of water. When it boils, from some secure place in his clothes, he takes a little coffee and drops it in the cup, and almost instantly the cup is removed and set aside; then the slice of fat meat is laid on the coals and when brown and crisp, completes the meal — for the “crackers” or biscuit are ready. No one but a soldier would have undertaken to cook with such a fire, as frequently it was no bigger than a quart cup. Crackers, or “hard tack” as they were called, are notoriously poor eating, but in the hands of the Confederate soldier were made to do good duty. When on the march and pressed for time, a piece of solid fat pork and a dry cracker was passable or luscious, as the time was long or short since the last meal. When there was leisure to do it, hard tack was soaked well and then fried in bacon grease. Prepared thus it was a dish which no Confederate had the weakness or the strength to refuse. Sorghum, in the absence of the better molasses of peace times, was greatly prized and eagerly sought after. A “Union” man living near the Confederate lines was one day busy boiling his crop. Naturally enough, some of “our boys” smelt out the place and determined to have some of the sweet fluid. They had found a yearling dead in the field hard by, and in thinking over the matter determined to sell the Union man if possible. So they cut from the dead animal a choice piece of beef, carried it to the old fellow and offered to trade. He accepted the offer and the whole party walked off with canteens full. Artillerymen, having tender consciences and no muskets, seldom, if ever, shot stray pigs; but they did sometimes, as an act of friendship, wholly disinterested, point out to the infantry a pig which seemed to need shooting, and by way of dividing the danger and responsibility of the act, accept privately a choice part of the deceased. On one occasion, when a civilian was dining with the mess, there was a fine pig for dinner. This circumstance caused the civilian to remark on the good fare. The “forager” remarked that
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