“Not much of a chance to bunk, boys,” said Captain Paulding, as he passed among his men. “We’ll have to make the best of it. One consolation, the trip won’t last forever.” “How long will it last, captain?” queried Blackwell. “Well, the trip is less than a hundred and fifty miles. We might make it in four days, if we had clear sailing. But we have two enemies to contend with--fog and rebel gunboats;” and the captain passed on. By night the space on board of the transport had been divided among the different companies as evenly as possible, while the staterooms were reserved for the commanders from second lieutenants up. The Goreville Volunteers found themselves located in the front cabin, where there were six long benches and, as Blackwell declared, “as soft a floor of Georgia pine as could be found anywhere.” Louis slept on that floor that same night, with his knapsack for a pillow, and found it anything but soft. Yet even that couch was in infinitely better than some of those which he was glad enough to make his own later on. “Ve vos all chickens in der chicken-coop, hey?” was the way Hans Roddmann expressed himself in the morning. “Blease somepotty fall oferpoard bis I stretch mineselluf!” And the room he required for the stretching process really made it look as if somebody would have to clear the deck. “This is worse than the camp in Washington,” began Jerry Rowe, but just then a shoe, thrown from the other end of the cabin, took him in the back of the neck and caused him to subside with a howl. The owner of the shoe came limping along with the other on a moment later, and when Jerry tried to argue with him, there was a regular pitched battle, in which a number of others joined, in the best of humor, although Jerry, who was at the bottom of the heap during a “pile on,” did not see it exactly that way. “Never mind, Jerry, have a cup of fresh chocolate,” exclaimed Harry, a minute later, as the cook passed around with his wash-boiler, “all steaming hot,” and again Jerry was disappointed for, as usual, it was black coffee, and particularly bitter at that. Louis was getting used to “hardtack” and coffee, but Jerry grumbled every time it was placed before him. “I’m sick, tired, and disgusted with pork and beans and strong coffee and pilot bread,” he would growl. “Why in the name of creation don’t the government give us something else?” “Never mind, Jerry; there’s a sutler along and you can buy what you please from him,” said one of the soldiers. “Barker is a thief!” burst out the discontented one. “Why, he wanted to charge me a quarter for a measly four-cent pie and forty cents for a tiny pot of jam. If I patronized him, he’d draw every cent of my pay when the quartermaster turned up.”