fe itself at any time. Surely that was a
leader to follow, and he, at least, would wish to ride where Stonewall
led.

But action did not come as soon as he had expected. Jackson was held by
commands from Richmond. The great army of the South waited, because the
great army of the North, under McClellan, also waited and temporized
while the autumn was passing fast.

But Jackson, while held in the bonds of orders, did not sleep. The most
active youth of his command rode day and night toward the northern
end of the valley, where the forces of the Union were gathering. The
movements of Banks and Kelly and the other Northern commanders were
watched continually by keen eyes trained in the southern forests. Slim
striplings passed in the night through the little towns, and the people,
intensely loyal to the South, gave them the news of everything.

Harry had seen the whole autumn pass and winter come, and the war, save
for a fitful skirmish now and then, stood at a pause in the valley. Yet
he rode incessantly, both with the others and alone, on scouting duty.
He knew every square mile of the country over a wide range, and he had
passed whole nights in the forest, when hail or snow was whistling by.
But these had been few. Mostly mild winds blew and the hoofs of his
horse fell on green turf.

Harry was intensely alert now. He was far from his command, and he knew
that he must see and hear everything or he would soon be in the hands of
the enemy. He rode on rather slowly, and amid continued silence. He saw
on his left a white house with green shutters and a portico. But the
shutters were closed tightly and no smoke rose from the chimneys.
Although house and grounds showed no touch of harm, they seemed to bear
the brand of desolation. The owners had fled, knowing that the sinister
march of war would pass here.

Harry's mood changed suddenly from gladness to depression. The
desolate house brought home to him the terrible nature of war. It meant
destruction, wounds and death, and they were all the worse because it
was a nation divided against itself, people of the same blood and the
same traditions fighting one another.

But youth cannot stay gloomy long, and his spirits presently flowed
back. There was too much tang and life in that crisp wind from the west
for his body to droop, and a lad could not be sad long, with brilliant
sunshine around him and that shining little river before him.

The thrill of high adventure shot up