A few days ago it fell to the lot of our mess to entertain a Rebel officer who had come in with a flag of truce.  Strange to say, he was a New-Yorker, and had a younger brother in one of the Indiana regiments.  He was a pleasant and courteous gentleman, albeit his faded dress, with its red-flannel trimmings, did not indicate great prosperity in the enemy’s camp.  We gave him the best meal we could command.  I apologized because it was no better.  He replied,—­“Make no apology, Sir.  It is the best dinner I have eaten these three months.  I have campaigned it a good deal this summer upon three ears of roast corn a day.”  He added,—­“I never have received a cent of pay.  None of us have.  We never expect to receive any.”  This captain has already seen considerable service.  He was at Booneville, Carthage, Wilson’s Creek, and Lexington.  His descriptions of these engagements were animated and interesting, his point of view presenting matters in a novel light.  He spoke particularly of a gunner stationed at the first piece in Totten’s battery, saying that his energy and coolness made him one of the most conspicuous figures of the day.  “Our sharp-shooters did their best, but they failed to bring him down.  There he was all day long, doing his duty as if on parade.”  He also told us there was no hard fighting at Lexington.  “We knew,” said he, “the place was short of water, and so we spared our men, and waited for time to do the work.”

Camp Lovejoy, October 7th. For the last two days the troops have been leaving Jefferson City, and the densely peopled hills are bare.  This morning, at seven o’clock, we began to break camp.  There was no little trouble and confusion in lowering the tents and packing the wagons.  It took us a long time to-day, but we shall soon get accustomed to it, and become able to move more quickly.  At noon we left Jefferson City, going due west.

Out little column consists of three companies of the body-guard, numbering about two hundred and fifty men, a battalion of sharp-shooters (infantry) under Major Holman, one hundred and eighty strong, and the staff.  The march is in the following order.  The first company of the guard act as advance-guard; then comes the General, followed by his staff, riding by twos, according to rank; the other two companies of the guard come next.  The sharp-shooters accompany and protect the train.  Our route lay through a broken and heavily wooded region.  The roads were very bad, but the day was bright, and the march was a succession of beautiful pictures, of which the long and brilliant line of horsemen winding through the forest was the chief ornament.

We reached camp at three o’clock.  It is a lovely spot, upon a hill-side, with a clear, swift-running brook washing the foot of the hill.  Presently the horses are tied along the fences, riders are lounging under the trees, the kitchen-fires are lighted, guardsmen are scattered along the banks of the stream bathing, the wagons roll heavily over the prairie and are drawn up along the edge of the wood, tents are raised, tent-furniture is hastily arranged, and the camp looks as if it had been there a month.  Before dark a regiment of infantry and two batteries of artillery come up.  The men sleep in the open air without tents, and innumerable fires cover the hill-sides.