—During the historic march of General Sherman from Atlanta to the sea, a new term suddenly achieved notoriety and popularity, and it came, after awhile, to be applied indiscriminately and wrongfully to all his soldiers, who were spoken of as “Sherman’s bummers.” In fact, the “bummer” was a character in the Western armies long before the march to the sea began. The name only was a result of that campaign. The army “bummer” was a genuine product of the Western armies. The field of their operations was so vast, their marches so long, their movements so swift, that in time these characteristics of the whole body stimulated and exaggerated the natural restlessness and adventurous spirit of many of the men composing it, and thus the army “bummer” was developed. The term should not be confounded. The army “bummer” was not akin, even remotely, to the lazy, blear-eyed, bloated, worthless vagabond who, in civil life, is designated by this term. The army variety of the _genus_ “bummer” was simply a restless, adventurous, investigating, daring forager; a scout not detailed for scouting duty; an independent exploring engineer, who had a natural instinct for topography and poultry, and an unerring nose for roads, by-paths, and Confederate pork and mutton. He looked with contempt on camp-guards, and regarded picket-lines with disdain. He could, without serious difficulty, make his way through an unknown country swarming with his deadly enemies. Answering “here” to his name at evening roll-call, and evading, with subtle skill, the vigilance of the sentries, he would travel ten or fifteen miles, on the darkest nights, through woods and fields he had never before seen, and, bringing back a full supply of the best the country afforded for his mess, would answer “here” at roll-call in the morning, and be ready for a twenty-mile march that day. He could accomplish the feat—impossible in times of peace—of carrying away, without being stung, a bee-hive loaded with honey and populated by a full swarm of angry bees. He was ubiquitous. In camp or with the column one moment, he was heard of an hour later, miles away, calmly inspecting a smoke-house or cellar, and retailing the most absurd inventions of his exuberant fancy to the startled inhabitants. Possessing marvelous powers of endurance, fruitful in expedients, always cool, courageous and alert, the army “bummer” was at once an enigma and a phenomenon. How he did what he did, was not capable of explanation; that he did it all was wonderful.