The toils of the last week had been hard upon me.  My wounded leg had not regained its full strength.  I was hot and thirsty as well as weak.  I crossed a wet place in the low woods and looked for water.  Still no enemy was pursuing.  I searched for a spring or pool, following the wet place down a gentle slope, which inclined to my right oblique as I retreated.  Soon I found a branch and drank my fill; then I filled my canteen and rose to my feet refreshed.

Just below me, uprooted by some storm, lay a giant poplar spanning the little brook.  I stepped upon the log and stood there for a second.  Here was a natural retreat.  If I had wanted to hide, this spot was what I should have chosen.  The boughs of the fallen tree, mingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.

The more I looked, the more the spot seemed to bind me.  I began to wonder.  Surely this was not my first sight of this spot.  Had I crossed here in the morning?  No; we had moved forward much to the right.  What was the secret of the influence which the spot held over me?  I had seen it before or I had dreamed of it.  I was greatly puzzled.

On the ground lay the broken parts of a rust-eaten musket.  I picked up the barrel; it was bent; I threw it down and picked up the stock.  Why should I be interested in this broken gun?  I knew not, but I knew that I was drawn in some way by it.  On the stock were carved the letters J.B.  Who had owned this gun?  John Brown?  James Butler?  Then the thought came suddenly—­why not Jones Berwick?  No!  That was absurd!  But why absurd?  Did I know who I was, or where I had been, or where I had not been?

A shot and then another rang out in the woods at my left; I dropped the gun and ran.

I soon overtook Company H retiring slowly through the woods.  And now we made a stand, as the brigade was in supporting distance.  Our position was perhaps three hundred yards in front of the brigade, which was posted behind the old railroad.  Thick woods were all around us.  Soon the blue skirmishers came in sight, and we began firing.  The Federals sprang at once to trees and began popping away at us.  The range was close.  Grant was mortally hit.  My group of four on that day was reduced to one man.  Goettee fell, and Godley.  We kept up the fight.  But now a blue line of battle could be seen advancing behind the skirmishers.  They kept coming, reserving their fire until they should pass beyond their skirmish-line.  We should have withdrawn at once, but waited until the line of battle had reached the skirmishers before we were ordered to fall back.  When we began to retire, the line of battle opened upon us, and we lost some men.

Company H formed in its place on the left of the First, which was now the left regiment of the brigade, of the division, and of the corps.  Company H was in the air at the left of Jackson’s line.