About this time I had a sensation akin to being struck by lightning. Upon recovering consciousness, I found myself with a badly-swelled head and great confusion of ideas, and I was bleeding profusely from ears and nose. On all sides were the maimed, the dying, and the dead. There was no enemy in sight save those killed and wounded. This was consoling; but unfortunately, if I had no enemies to fear, I was equally destitute of friends. Which way was north, south, east, or west, I was wholly unable to determine. I was equally at a loss to decide which was front and which rear. Hearing firing in one direction, I came to the sage conclusion that by going in the direction of the sound I should at least be able to determine where our forces were. But what was the matter with the trees? They were cutting up all sorts of antics--advancing, retreating, bobbing up and down, actually waltzing about me. Around and around they went, until they made me dizzy. In trying to catch one of them, the ground suddenly flew up into my face, and, not satisfied with that, tried to roll me off; but I held on like a tick, grasping the twigs with all my might. The exertion was too much, and I fainted outright. Upon recovering my senses, I concluded to make my way to the rear. I found it difficult to travel, however, because of the giddiness and partial blindness caused by my wound. When I had progressed about a quarter of a mile, I found myself looking down the barrel of a musket. _Captured_ A Confederate regiment, the Thirteenth Georgia, had, in the mêlée, become detached from its brigade, and was lost in the dense forest. The commanding officer had ordered the men to lie down in a thicket, and unfortunately I had surprised them. Not being in the humor just then to "surround them," like the Irishman, I surrendered at discretion, and was immediately disarmed and conducted to the commander, when the following conversation took place: _Confederate Officer._ Captain, were you in the skirmish line out yonder? _Yank._ I am a prisoner, sir, and must decline to answer any questions touching our position or forces. _Confederate._ That's all right, Captain, but I would like to know whether you have any skirmishers in there. Do you know where Gordon's brigade is? _Yank._ Gordon's brigade! Why, I don't know where I am myself. _Confederate._ Then there are two of us in the same fix. To tell the truth, I am lost. I got through an interval in your lines, I think; at all events, I found myself in your rear without knowing how I got there, and was trying to get back when you uns run over us. We just lay still, and the Yanks passed us. _Yank._ In which direction did they go? _Confederate._ Out yon. _Yank._ Then it strikes me that your rear is in an opposite direction. _Confederate._ Well, yes, I reckon so. Corporal, take this officer to the rear and find the Provost Marshal and report him. _En Route to Lynchburg_