carry the ford at a charge.  As they did so at least one-half of the horses went down as if they were shot, and rolled over their riders in the swift running, ice-cold waters.  The Rebels yelled a triumphant laugh, as they galloped away, and the laugh was re-echoed by our fellows, who were as quick to see the joke as the other side.  We tried to get even with them by a sharp chase, but we gave it up after a few miles, without having taken any prisoners.

But, after all, there was much to make our sojourn in the Valley endurable.  Though we did not wear fine linen, we fared sumptuously—­for soldiers—­every day.  The cavalryman is always charged by the infantry and artillery with having a finer and surer scent for the good things in the country than any other man in the service.  He is believed to have an instinct that will unfailingly lead him, in the dankest night, to the roosting place of the most desirable poultry, and after he has camped in a neighborhood for awhile it would require a close chemical analysis to find a trace of ham.

We did our best to sustain the reputation of our arm of the service.  We found the most delicious hams packed away in the ash-houses.  They were small, and had that; exquisite nutty flavor, peculiar to mast-fed bacon.  Then there was an abundance of the delightful little apple known as “romanites.”  There were turnips, pumpkins, cabbages, potatoes, and the usual products of the field in plenty, even profusion.  The corn in the fields furnished an ample supply of breadstuff.  We carried it to and ground it in the quaintest, rudest little mills that can be imagined outside of the primitive affairs by which the women of Arabia coarsely powder the grain for the family meal.  Sometimes the mill would consist only of four stout posts thrust into the ground at the edge of some stream.  A line of boulders reaching diagonally across the stream answered for a dam, by diverting a portion of the volume of water to a channel at the side, where it moved a clumsily constructed wheel, that turned two small stones, not larger than good-sized grindstones.  Over this would be a shed made by resting poles in forked posts stuck into the ground, and covering these with clapboards held in place by large flat stones.  They resembled the mills of the gods—­in grinding slowly.  It used to seem that a healthy man could eat the meal faster than they ground it.

But what savory meals we used to concoct around the campfires, out of the rich materials collected during the day’s ride!  Such stews, such soups, such broils, such wonderful commixtures of things diverse in nature and antagonistic in properties such daring culinary experiments in combining materials never before attempted to be combined.  The French say of untasteful arrangement of hues in dress “that the colors swear at each other.”  I have often thought the same thing of the heterogeneities that go to make up a soldier’s pot-a feu.