“The Third South Carolina Infantry had been placed on pickets in front of Early in September, 1864.  The point at which picket were posted were at two fords on the Opequan River, Captain Dickert, with his company, was posted at some distance from the place where the other portion of the Regiment was posted to cover one of the fords.  I can see now the work laid cut for Captain Dickert, ought to have been assigned to the Cavalry for a company of Infantry, say a half mile from the Regiment, might have been surrounded too quickly for the company to be retired or to receive assistance from the Regiment.  Well, as it was, no harm came of it for the company held the ford unassailable.  A company of the Regiment was placed at a ford on the highway as it crossed the river.  While a few officers were enjoying a nice supper here comes an order to call in the companies on picket and to follow the Regiment with all possible speed towards Winchester, to which latter place the army of Early had already gone.  Guides were sent to us, and our Regiment had marched by country road until we struck the turn-pike.  The march was necessarily rapid lest the Regiment might be assailed by overwhelming numbers of the enemy.  The soldiers did not fancy this rapid marching.

“To our surprise and horror, after we had reached the turn-pike road, and several miles from our destination, the soldiers set up an imitation of barking, just as if a lot of hounds in close pursuit of a fresh jumped fox.  Now any one at all familiar with the characteristic of the soldier know imitation is his weak point, one yell, all yell, one sing, all sing, if one is merry, all are merry.  We were near the enemy, and the Colonel knew the necessity of silence, and caution Colonel Rutherford was, of course indignant at this outburst of good humor in the dark watches of the night, and the enemy at our heels or flank.  He sent back orders by me (Pope) to pass down the lines and order silence.  But ‘bow-wow,’ ‘bow,’ ‘bow-wow,’ ‘yelp, yelp,’ and every conceivable imitation of the fox hound rent the air.  One company on receiving the orders to stop this barking would cease, but others would take it up.  ‘Bow-wow,’ ‘toot,’ ‘toot,’ ‘yah-oon,’ ‘yah-oon,’ dogs barking, men hollowing, some blowing through their hands to imitate the winding of the huntman’s horn.  ‘Stop this noise,’ ’cease your barking,’ ‘silence,’ still the chase continued.  ‘Go it, Lead,’ ‘catch him, Frail,’ ‘Old Drive close to him,’ ‘hurah Brink,’ ’talk to him old boys.’  The valley fairly rung, with this chase.  Officers even could not refrain from joining in the encouragement to the excited dogs as the noise would rise and swell and echoe through the distant mountain gorges to reverberate up and down the valley—­at last wore out by their ceaseless barking and yelling, the noise finally died out, much to the satisfaction of the Colonel commanding, myself and the officers who were trying to stop it.  As mortified as I was at my inability to execute the orders of Colonel