“And that it will be dealt we don’t doubt, neither you, nor I nor any of us.”

“Yes, that’s so.”

While mud and rain could impede the progress of the great column they could not stop it.  Neither could they dampen the spirits of the young troopers who rode knee to knee, and who looked forward to new victories.  Through the floods of rain the ten thousand, scouts and skirmishers on their flanks, swept southward, and they encountered no foe.  A few Southern horsemen would watch them at a great distance and then ride sadly away.  There was nothing in the valley that could oppose Sheridan.

Dick’s leggings, and his overcoat with an extremely high collar, kept him dry and warm and he was too seasoned to mind the flying mud which thousands of hoofs sent up, and which soon covered them.  The swift movement and the expectation of achieving something were exhilarating in spite of every hardship and obstacle.

That night they reached the village of Woodstock, and the next day they crossed the north fork of the Shenandoah, already swollen by the heavy rains.  The engineers rapidly and dexterously made a bridge of the pontoon boats, and the ten thousand thundered over in safety.

The next night they were at a little place called Lacy’s Springs, sixty miles from Winchester, a wonderful march for two days, considering the heavy rains and deep mud, and they had not yet encountered an enemy.  How different it would have been in Stonewall Jackson’s time!  Then, not a mile of the road would have been safe for them.  It was ample proof of the extremities to which the Confederacy was reduced.  Lee, at Petersburg, could not reinforce Early, and Early, at Staunton, could not reinforce Lee!

They intended to move on the next day, and they heard that night that Rosser, a brave Confederate general, had gathered a small Confederate force and was hastening forward to burn all the bridges over the middle fork of the Shenandoah, in order that he might impede Sheridan’s progress.  Then it was the call of the trumpet and boots and saddles early in the morning in order that they might beat Rosser to the bridges.

“I hope for their own sake that they won’t try to fight us,” said Dick.

“I’m with you on that,” said Pennington.  “They can’t be more than a few hundreds, and it would take thousands, even with a river to help, to stop an army like ours.”

It was not raining now and the roads growing dryer thundered with the hoofs of ten thousand horses.  The Winchesters had an honored place in the van, and, as they approached the middle fork of the Shenandoah, the three young captains raised themselves in their saddles to see if the bridge yet stood.  It was there, but on the other side of the stream a small body of cavalrymen in gray were galloping forward, and some had already dismounted for the attempt to destroy it.  The arrival of the two forces was almost simultaneous, but the Union army, overwhelming in numbers, exulting in victory, swept forward to the call of the trumpets.