tremely cold.
Fierce winds whistled down from the crests of the mountains and pierced
their clothing with myriads of little icy darts. They crept closer and
closer to the fire. Their faces burned while their backs froze, and
the menacing wind, while it chilled them to the marrow with its breath,
seemed to laugh at them in sinister fashion. They thought with many a
lament of their warm quarters in Winchester.

Harry shared the common depression to a certain extent. He had recalled
that morning how the young Napoleon started on his great campaign
of Italy, and there had been in his mind some idea that it would be
repeated in the Virginia valleys, but he recalled at night that the
soldiers of the youthful Bonaparte had marched and fought in warm
days in a sunny country. It was a different thing to conduct a great
campaign, when the clouds heavy with snow were hovering around the
mountain tops, and the mercury was hunting zero. He shivered and looked
apprehensively into the chilly night. His apprehension was not for a
human foe, but for the unbroken spirits of darkness and mystery that can
cow us all.

No tents were pitched. Jackson shared the common lot, sitting by a fire
with some of the higher officers, while three or four other young aides
were near. The sifts of snow turned after a while into a fine but steady
snow, which continued half an hour. The backs of the soldiers were
covered with white, while their faces burned. Then there was a shuffling
sound at every fire, as the men turned their backs to the blaze and
their faces to the forest.

Harry watched General Jackson closely. He was sitting on a fallen log,
which the soldiers had drawn near to one of the largest fires, and he
was staring intently into the coals. He did not speak, nor did he seem
to take any notice of those about him. Harry knew, too, that he was not
seeing the coals, but the armies of the enemy on the other side of the
cold mountain.

Jackson after a while beckoned to the young aides and he gave to every
one in turn the same command.

"Mount and make a complete circuit of the army. Report to me whether
all the pickets are watchful, and whether any signs of the enemy can be
seen."

Harry had tethered his horse in a little grove near by, where he might
be sheltered as much as possible from the cold, and the faithful animal
which had not tasted food that day, whimpered and rubbed his nose
against his shoulder when he came.

"I'm sorry, old b