the fence; I preferred looking at them with the naked eye. Bob
Lee volunteered to go with us another day (he belonged to another
detachment). He seemed to enjoy the sport much. He had not been at
Kernstown, and I thought if he had, possibly he would have felt more as
did I and the white horse.

On our way down on another expedition, hearing the enemy were driving in
our pickets, and that we would probably have some lively work and
running, I left my blanket--a blue one I had recently borrowed--at the
house of a mulatto woman by the roadside, and told her I would call for
it as we came back. We returned soon, but the woman, learning that a
battle was impending, had locked up and gone. This blanket was my only
wrap during the chilly nights, so I must have it. The guns had gone on.
As I stood deliberating as to what I should do, General Ashby came
riding by. I told him my predicament and asked, "Shall I get in and get
it?" He said, "Yes, certainly." With the help of an axe I soon had a
window-sash out and my blanket in my possession. From these frequent
picket excursions I got the name of "Veteran." My friend Bolling
generously offered to go as my substitute on one expedition, but the
Captain, seeing our two detachments were being overworked, had all
relieved and sent other detachments with our guns.

From Rude's Hill about fifty of us recruits were detailed to go to
Harrisonburg--Lieutenant Graham in command--to guard prisoners. The
prisoners were quartered in the courthouse. Among them were a number of
Dunkards from the surrounding country, whose creed was "No fight." I was
appointed corporal, the only promotion I was honored with during the
war, and that only for the detailed service. Here we spent a week or ten
days, pleasantly, with good fare and quarters. Things continued quiet at
the front during this time.

The enemy again advanced, and quite a lively cavalry skirmish was had
from Mt. Jackson to the bridge across the Shenandoah. The enemy tried
hard to keep our men from burning this bridge, and in the fray Ashby's
white horse was mortally wounded under him and his own life saved by
the daring interposition of one of his men. His horse lived to carry him
out, but fell dead as soon as he had accomplished it; and, after his
death, every hair was pulled from his tail by Ashby's men as mementoes
of the occasion.

[Illustration: ROBERT A. GIBSON]

Jackson fell back slowly, and, on reaching Harrisonburg, to our dism