I took eight or ten men and went back a few hundred yards to a little stream that flowed into a mill race leading to the mill. The race was quite large, and as the water overflowed on both sides it formed a screened pathway. We reached the mill, unseen by the rebels, and went from the basement to the upper floor, where we found four men sacking flour and corn meal and loading it in wagons in front of the mill. We arrested them and ordered them to help us carry the flour and meal back into the mill. We then unhitched the horses from the wagons, took off the wheels and rolled them into the mill, and then set the building on fire. When it was in full blast, we released the men and went back the same way we came. Finding that our men had silenced the rebels on the other side, we took up our march back to our command and made our report. We crossed the Etowah River the next day, and found the rebels had formed a line of battle and built breastworks. We drove the rebel picket line in, and fortified within about five hundred yards from the enemy’s fortifications, which were on a ridge in a piece of woodland. Our picket line was deployed on the edge of an old field, about two hundred yards from the rebel breastworks. There were two small log cabins between the lines, about thirty feet apart, from which any of our men who exposed themselves were shot. I saw several men killed while trying to pass between these cabins. Being in charge of the brigade picket line, I received an order to charge the rebel pickets and drive them into their works. I knew it was death to every man, for I had been there all day and understood the situation. I refused to make the charge, and one of Burnside’s Staff—I think it was Major Tracy—rode up and said to me, “Why did you disobey orders?” I told him if he remained where he was he would be shot. Just then a ball struck him in the breast, and he fell from his horse and was carried off the field. I received no more orders, and remained in charge of the picket line. That night about twelve o’clock I heard a cow bell tinkling in front of us, sounding as if cattle were eating leaves off the bushes. I called the attention of Sergeant George Freshour to it. He belonged to my company, and was as brave a boy as ever lived. He said, “Captain, that is rebels, trying to make us think it is cattle.” He handed me his gun, and said he would crawl down in the bushes and see what it meant. He was gone about ten minutes, when I heard him crawling out of the bushes, nearly out of breath, and in a low whisper he said, “Captain, the woods are full of rebels and they are advancing!” I immediately passed the word along the line to get ready for a charge. In a few minutes I gave the order, “Charge!” and we did charge! We drove the rebel line back into their works, and returned to our former line. It was as dark as it could be, and they evidently thought the whole Federal army was after them