General Porter fell back to Coal Harbor. The engineers made a survey of the Chickahominy and of the approaches to Richmond, and began to build bridges across the stream and throw up earthworks. The days were hot and sultry. There were heavy thunder-storms, succeeded by intense heat. The soldiers were provided with axes and shovels, and were set to work in the dark, miry swamps, working all day up to their waists in the muddy water. Disease in all its frightful forms of fever and dysentery made its appearance. The air was full of malaria. Hundreds died and thousands were sent to the hospitals. One day a fine youth, who with ardor and enthusiasm had enlisted as a soldier, was brought into the hospital. He had been taken violently and suddenly with fever while in the marshes. The nurses laid him on a cot, gave him cold water, bathed his hot brows. He had a likeness of his mother, who had gone into the better land, and of his sister, who was far away in his pleasant home, in a gold locket on his neck. He dreamed and talked of home, and said, "I have a sister on my heart,--a sister on my heart,--a sister,--a sister." The disease made rapid progress. The fever burned within,--a consuming flame which, before sunrise, had devoured all his young life. He was buried in the afternoon beneath the forest trees. It was wearing work, the bridge-building, the construction of roads, and throwing up of intrenchments. Besides, there was the necessity of keeping close watch upon the enemy. If there were sad scenes, there were also amusing incidents. A party of Maine boys, on picket, one day, saw a pair of wagon-wheels. Not far off were the Rebel pickets, in an open field. The Down-East Yankees thought they would have some fun. They mounted a log upon the wheels, brought the mock cannon into position. One of them pretended to sponge it, another put in the cartridge, a third primed, a fourth sighted it, while a fifth stood ready to fire. The Rebels watched the operation a moment, and then scampered for the woods to get under cover! The Maine boys did not fire, but had a merry chuckle among themselves, and a hearty laugh with their comrades when they told the story in camp. CHAPTER VII. FAIR OAKS. Seven miles from Richmond, near the York River Railroad, there is a grove of oaks, so green, so beautiful and fair, that the railroad station has received the name of Fair Oaks. A highway from Richmond crosses the railroad near the station called the Nine-Mile Road. The railroad runs east and the Nine-Mile Road southeast. The highway from Richmond to Williamsburg runs parallel to the railroad about a mile south of it, and is crossed by the Nine-Mile Road, a mile southeast from Fair Oaks. At the junction of the two highways are seven pines, standing in a cluster on the south side of the Williamsburg road.