The Colonel then walked his room back and forth, as if in a deep study, and then stopped, and facing me, said: "Is this the first time you were ever caught in a scrape of that kind?" "You haven't caught me in _that yet_," I replied. "That will do," said he; "you are either _innocent_ or _very well drilled_! You can go to your quarters." The next afternoon the two young men came over. When they arrived, the battalion was on drill, except the new recruits. While watching the drill, the son of the lady undertook to point out to the man that had accompanied him the person that he had previously pointed out. That, I thought, was not fair. I told the new recruits what was being done, and they all began to gather around the two young men to frighten them off. Some would cackle like hens; some crow like roosters; some pinned paper on their coat-tails; others would slip pork rinds into their coat pockets, and then accuse them of _stealing soap-grease from the poor soldiers_! It was a rougher reception than they had bargained for, and, as soon as the crowd opened, they broke for the street and never came back again. The "chicken scrape" is among the incidents of the past. Several of the men of the detachment that were on the forts at that time have nobly sacrificed their lives, and others their health, in the cause of their country; and, however well they loved chickens, they have all since proved themselves brave, heroic soldiers. In a future reckoning, the depredations committed that night will vanish when weighed by the "hurrahs for Jeff. Davis" by the lady in the carriage. I leave the reader to draw his own conclusions, but I am inclined to think that _somebody got the chickens_. CHAPTER III. "Marching orders"--Arrives at Fort Donelson--The surrender--Goes North with prisoners--Meets an old friend as a rebel Captain--The Captain attempts to bribe him--Expedition up the Tennessee River--Touching incident--Battle of Shiloh--Captures an Enfield--Recommended as a scout. On the 9th day of February, 1862, the regiment received "marching orders." It was a day of hurry and excitement. The order was received with delight by the men, for they had become tired with the dull monotony of guard duty, and were eager for a change. It was a wet day, and the streets were filled with mud and slush from the rain and melting snow, and our feet dragged heavily as we marched to the levee, but, nevertheless, our hearts were light and cheerful. Little did we realize the hardships, the privations, and the sufferings that were in store for us, or think of the change that would take place ere we returned to the soil of our own loved State.