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[183] posted without and around. We believe it was on the third day of the march, and between Mount Jackson and Edenburg, that there were signs of irregular troopers following our trail; they seem to have come up on the west side of a low range of hills some distance to the left of our road as we were moving north. The train had halted, and Gen. Dudley, who had ridden to the ridge, shouted to send up a company of infantry. These soldiers had only to exhibit themselves, to cause a stampede of the bushwhackers. The latter or any of that ilk did not afterwards appear.

Late on the evening of the 6th of October, we drew into Winchester and learned upon the following morning that we were to spend the day in the town. We sallied forth on a round of inspection of the place. Entering an old time Virginia warehouse to which some show of trade seemed to have survived, we found a portly gentleman, a citizen unmistakably, communicating some intelligence to the clerk, which importantly concerned his employer. ‘Tell Mr.——immediately’ said he, and departed. A moment later, a couple of buxom lasses entered. One of them said to the other, a healthy looking blonde: ‘So this is your store,’ to which the blonde assented. Then the old clerk, leaning over the counter, addressing her in a low tone, but audibly to us, informed her that ‘Alf was brought in a prisoner.’ ‘He is n't!’ said she. ‘Yes, they have him at the court-house; go tell your ma.’

...

The clerk could not change a greenback, having only Virginia bills. So we passed along the street to a sutler's shop, which like many another was located in some warerooms which had been without a tenant, and then we hurried off to the court-house. There, on the green, before the institution, were the Confederate prisoners who had arrived with us on the previous evening. Conspicuous among them was Alf, a lad of sixteen or seventeen. He was being caressed by the blonde and by an elderly lady, evidently his sister and mother. Happy Alf! he seemed not to regret his captivity. He looked remarkably cheerful the next morning, fresh, wholesome, and contented, when we resumed the march to Martinsburg. We were all day upon the route, never having, all things considered, made a more tedious jaunt.

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