“I was told we were only about eighteen miles from Yorktown,” said Moses Blackwell. “I am very curious to see that place, for, if you will remember, it was there that Lord Cornwallis of the British forces surrendered to Washington eighty years ago.” “That’s so!” cried Louis, much interested. “My grandfather was in that war. And come to think of it, they say the breastworks Washington’s troops threw up at that siege are still to be seen. I hope we catch sight of them,” he added, after a pause, but never dreamt how useful some of those same old breastworks were to become to the Union troops during those stirring battles which made the Peninsular Campaign so famous in history. Regiments of infantry, bands of cavalry, and divisions of artillery were everywhere as far as eye could reach, covering not only the roadway, but the fields beyond. The volunteers had fancied they had moved on far enough for that first day, but presently the orders came to move on and another half-mile was covered, when the larger portion of their corps and another went into regular camp. All of the boys in blue were in heavy marching order, that is, carrying with them everything that belonged to each soldier, his gun, cartridge box, canteen, haversack, knapsack, great coat, blanket and private property, and a march of five or six miles under such conditions is exceedingly fatiguing. To be sure, the route step was given, and everybody marched very much as he pleased in consequence, but even so, when the order to halt came everybody was glad enough to throw down his load and rest himself upon it. “Ven I march like dis I vos feel me like von pack-mule,” remarked Hans Roddmann. “Dot load gits heavier und heavier bis it veighs apout a ton.” “I’m getting used to the load,” answered Louis. “But it’s no fun, Hans, that’s a fact. But you must remember, we didn’t enlist for the fun of the thing.” “Oh, no; put too much ist too much,” and Hans went off shaking his head. He was extra tired, and suffering from a bunion, and the fact that it was his duty to play cook for the next week did not tend to put him into good humor. “To the field on the right, boys,” came the order from Captain Paulding, and the Goreville Volunteers hopped over a worm-fence located along the roadway. Two days later the fence had disappeared--chopped up for firewood. Firewood was not plentiful in the vicinity, and everything--fences, sheds and trees had to go for fuel. Only the log cabins and houses of the inhabitants were spared.