Every thing was put in readiness for battle.  Generals of division were ordered to be ready to move at a moment’s notice.  The pickets were doubled, and the grand guards increased to an unusual extent.  Four pieces of artillery formed a portion of the picket force on the Fayetteville road, the direct route to Wilson Creek.  If an enemy had approached on that night he would have met a warm reception.

About seven o’clock in the evening, a staff officer, who kept the journalists informed of the progress of affairs, visited General Fremont’s head-quarters.  He soon emerged with important intelligence.

“It is all settled.  The army is ready to move at the instant.  Orders will be issued at two o’clock, and we will be under way before daylight.  Skirmishing will begin at nine, and the full battle will be drawn on at twelve.”

“Is the plan arranged?”

“Yes, it is all arranged; but I did not ask how.”

“Battle sure to come off—­is it?”

“Certainly, unless Hunter comes and countermands the order.”

Alas, for human calculations!  General Hunter arrived before midnight.  Two o’clock came, but no orders to break camp.  Daylight, and no orders to march.  Breakfast-time, and not a hostile shot had been heard.  Nine o’clock, and no skirmish.  Twelve o’clock, and no battle.

General Fremont and staff returned to St. Louis.  General Hunter made a reconnoissance to Wilson Creek, and ascertained that the only enemy that had been in the vicinity was a scouting party of forty or fifty men.  At the time we were to march out, there was not a Rebel on the ground.  Their whole army was still at Cassville, fifty-five miles from Springfield.

On the 9th of November the army evacuated Springfield and returned to the line of the Pacific Railway.

General Fremont’s scouts had deceived him.  Some of these individuals were exceedingly credulous, while others were liars of the highest grade known to civilization.  The former obtained their information from the frightened inhabitants; the latter manufactured theirs with the aid of vivid imaginations.  I half suspect the fellows were like the showman in the story, and, at length, religiously believed what they first designed as a hoax.  Between the two classes of scouts a large army of Rebels was created.

The scouting service often develops characters of a peculiar mould.  Nearly every man engaged in it has some particular branch in which he excels.  There was one young man accompanying General Fremont’s army, whose equal, as a special forager, I have never seen elsewhere.  Whenever we entered camp, this individual, whom I will call the captain, would take a half-dozen companions and start on a foraging tour.  After an absence of from four to six hours, he would return well-laden with the spoils of war.  On one occasion he brought to camp three horses, two cows, a yoke of oxen, and a wagon.  In the latter