Twing; and, drawing my bridle
tighter, I fell back to the rear. What would I not have given for the
"Rifle Rangers" at that moment?

I was startled from a very sullen reverie by a shot, the whistling of a
rifle bullet, and the loud "Halt" of the major in front. Raising myself
on the instant, I could see a greenish-looking object just disappearing
over the spur of a ridge. It was a vidette, who had fired and run in.

"Do you think they are any of our people?"

"That 'ar's one of our kump'ny, Cap'n; I seed the green on his cap,"
said Lincoln.

I galloped to the front. Twing was just detaching a small party to
reconnoitre. I fell in along with this, and after riding a hundred
yards we looked over the ridge, and saw, not four hundred yards distant,
a ten-inch howitzer, that had just been wheeled round, and now stood
gaping at us. In the rear of the gun stood a body of artillerists, and
on their flanks a larger body of what appeared to be light infantry or
rifles. It would have been anything but a pleasing sight, but that a
small flag with red and white stripes was playing over the gun; and our
party, heedless of their orders, leaped their horses on the ridge, and,
pulling off their caps, saluted it with a cheer.

The soldiers by the battery still stood undecided, not knowing what to
make of our conduct, as they were the advanced outpost in this
direction, when a mounted rifleman galloped up and displayed the flag of
his regiment.

A wild cheer echoed back from the battery; and the next moment both
parties had met, and were shaking each other's hands with the hearty
greetings of long-parted friends.

Not the least interesting to me was the fact that my own corps, under
the command of its lieutenant, formed the principal guard of the gun;
and the welcome of our old comrades was such as we should have received
had we come back from the grave. They had long since made up their
minds that they had seen the last of us; and it was quite amusing to
witness these brave _tirailleurs_ as they gathered around Lincoln and
his comrades to hear the story of our adventures.

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

A WHOLESALE CAPTURE.

In a few minutes our greetings were over. Twing moved on, taking with
him his squadron of mounted men. I had made up my mind to take the
_opposite road_--the "back track". I was now in command of a force--my
own--and I felt keenly the necessity of doing something to redeem my
late folly. Clayley w