Next, nobody would cook; it was considered a degradation; so we had no dinner.  We lazied the rest of the pleasant afternoon away, some dozing under the trees, some smoking cob-pipes and talking sweethearts and war, some playing games.  By late supper-time all hands were famished; and to meet the difficulty all hands turned to, on an equal footing, and gathered wood, built fires, and cooked the meal.  Afterward everything was smooth for a while; then trouble broke out between the corporal and the sergeant, each claiming to rank the other.  Nobody knew which was the higher office; so Lyman had to settle the matter by making the rank of both officers equal.  The commander of an ignorant crew like that has many troubles and vexations which probably do not occur in the regular army at all.  However, with the song-singing and yarn-spinning around the camp-fire, everything presently became serene again; and by-and-by we raked the corn down level in one end of the crib, and all went to bed on it, tying a horse to the door, so that he would neigh if any one tried to get in.[1]

We had some horsemanship drill every forenoon; then, afternoons, we rode off here and there in squads a few miles, and visited the farmers’ girls, and had a youthful good time, and got an honest good dinner or supper, and then home again to camp, happy and content.

For a time, life was idly delicious, it was perfect; there was nothing to mar it.  Then came some farmers with an alarm one day.  They said it was rumoured that the enemy were advancing in our direction, from over Hyde’s prairie.  The result was a sharp stir among us, and general consternation.  It was a rude awakening from our pleasant trance.  The rumour was but a rumour—­nothing definite about it; so, in the confusion, we did not know which way to retreat.  Lyman was for not retreating at all, in these uncertain circumstances; but he found that if he tried to maintain that attitude he would fare badly, for the command were in no humour to put up with insubordination.  So he yielded the point and called a council of war—­to consist of himself and the three other officers; but the privates made such a fuss about being left out, that we had to allow them to remain, for they were already present, and doing the most of the talking too.  The question was, which way to retreat; but all were so flurried that nobody seemed to have even a guess to offer.  Except Lyman.  He explained in a few calm words, that inasmuch as the enemy were approaching from over Hyde’s prairie, our course was simple:  all we had to do was not to retreat toward him; any other direction would answer our needs perfectly.  Everybody saw in a moment how true this was, and how wise; so Lyman got a great many compliments.  It was now decided that we should fall back upon Mason’s farm.