On September 4th, 1863, my regiment was ordered to join Wilder, north of Chattanooga, and on reporting to Wilder I found that my regiment was ordered to report to General Thomas to be used by General Rosecrans for scouting purposes, and immediately ascended to the top of Walden's Ridge, a continuation of Lookout Mountain, on the north side of the Tennessee River, and from that elevation I looked for hours with my field glass into the deserted streets of Chattanooga, and became convinced that Bragg had evacuated that Confederate stronghold. Crossing the Tennessee River on the pontoons at Bridgeport, I reported to General Thomas, and in person to General Rosecrans at Trenton, twenty miles from Chattanooga, on the west side of Lookout Mountain, on the forenoon of September 8th, 1863, and gave General Rosecrans my reason for believing that Chattanooga had been evacuated by Bragg, and nothing left there but his cavalry to curtain his movements. I told General Rosecrans I had found a cow-path on the west side of Lookout Mountain, four miles from its head, that cattle could go up onto the mountain, and offered to send a body of the Ninety-Second men onto the mountain by that cow-path, and drive the enemy's cavalry from off the mountain, demonstrating that Chattanooga was evacuated, and by the order of General Rosecrans I did so, and again reported to him in person at Trenton about 9 o'clock on the evening of September 8th, 1863, and was ordered by him to take the advance into Chattanooga on the morning of the 9th of September, 1863. Crossing the nose of the mountain on the Nashville road early on the morning of September 9th, I found the enemy's cavalry holding the road, and my regiment was driving them over the mountain when Wilder's Brigade battery from Moccasin Point on the north side of the Tennessee began throwing its shells onto the mountain, enfilading my line of skirmishers, and I was compelled to fall back. It was decidedly disagreeable to be fired upon by the artillery of the brigade to which my regiment belonged. How to communicate with Wilder and stop that firing was a difficult problem, and I thought the only way to do so would be to have some one swim the river; but that would occasion long delay. A little boy, a stranger to me, said he had served in the signal corps, and could send a message by tying his handkerchief to two hazel sticks, and when he was ready, standing on a jutting rock where he could be seen by Wilder's men across the river, he inquired what message, and I said, "Ninety-Second Illinois," and he had not long been waving his flag, spelling out the words, when Wilder's men on the north side of the river set up a great cheer, and, knowing they would no longer fire upon us, we pressed forward, driving the Confederates before us and off the mountain, and at 10 o'clock a.m. the flag of the Ninety-Second Illinois Volunteers was floating from the top of the Crutchfield House, the first Union flag to float in