“We will go below,” said Captain Paulding, who had received orders to that effect from the general of the regiment. “The Confederates have found a lodging on this bank behind some fallen trees and we must root them out.” The march was through some swamp lands close to the river. The change from the sunshine and heat to the damp shade of the forest trees cooled the ardor of the soldiers, but still they went on with grim determination. Several hundred feet were passed, when there arose a wild yell from the right and from the left. They had fallen into a trap! “Fire! Charge bayonets! Fall back!” These and half a dozen other orders rang out. But no one heard them. The Confederates were hemming them in. They must cut their way back to safety. A fierce fighting arose upon every side. Louis charged with the others. He had taken less than ten steps when a clubbed musket hit him alongside of the head and he was knocked almost senseless. He staggered off to a thicket, pitched upon a tuft of swamp grass; and knew no more. When the young Union soldier came to his senses all was pitch dark around him. His head ached as if it would split open, and his ears still rang from the concussions of the battle. He endeavored to sit up, but fell back completely exhausted. The first sound which claimed his attention was that of the swamp frogs. How calmly they croaked, as though such a thing as war was unknown. Then came the cry of a distant night-bird, returning, after a brief season of alarm, to its nest. He continued to rest and to listen, and thus gradually his headache became more endurable. It was the cold which finally made him arouse himself. He reckoned it must be three or four o’clock in the morning. He listened attentively. Far, far away he fancied he could hear the tramping of horses and the rumbling of wagons. It was the retreat of the Union baggage trains. The Army of the Potomac, finding the enemy too numerous, had begun its withdrawal to the James River. A part were already at Gaines’s Mill, preparing for the battle which was bound to come at the break of day. “I must get back to our regiment,” he thought, and arose to his feet. For the moment he could scarcely stand. He wondered if he had been shot. Then he remembered the savage blow from the gun-stock. He put his hand up to his head. There was a large and sore lump back of his ear. Which way should he turn? It was a puzzling question. The enemy might be all around him, and he had no desire to be taken prisoner again. He thought of the river, close at hand. The Union army must be on or near that, perhaps five or ten miles below. He would follow the river, for want of a better path.