We had had little breakfast and no dinner nor supper, but we suffered more from thirst than hunger. Can we ever forget it? Will the long flight never end? On through Kerrstown without halting we march, with promise of rest and water at Newtown; no rest nor water there. On from Newtown with assurance of water at Middletown. Five minutes at Middletown, and a little muddy water that seems to aggravate our thirst. Farther on we cross a bridge under which the water is dashing as if in mockery, and the cry "Water! water!" rises from a hundred lips, the guard joining, for they are suffering like ourselves. Some comfort in that! Past midnight we reach Strasburg and are halted around an old wooden pump. It is broken! No water there. Still on and on at a snail-pace, up and over the almost interminable stretch of Fisher's Hill. At three o'clock in the morning we arrive at a place known by the classical name of Tom's Brook about twenty-five miles from Winchester. Never was nectar more delicious than the water of this stream, nor downy pillow more welcome than the sod on its banks. Without blankets or covering we sank in each other's arms for mutual warmth on the dew-drenched grass; and blistered feet and aching limbs and hunger and thirst and suffocating despair are all forgotten! Morning came unnoticed, except by those whom the keen cold permitted to sleep no longer. Towards noon we rose, washed without soap or towel, were made to form line, had our names taken, and received as rations a pint of flour per man, with a little salt, nothing else. How to cook or prepare the flour? We learned of the rebel guards a process not laid down in the cook-books. Mixing with water they made a stiff paste or dough. This they put around the end of a stick about the size and half the length of a walking cane. The end thus thickly coated they hold over a little fire till the smoke and flame have sufficiently hardened it. Then pull out your stick and you have a thick chunk or cylinder of bread, not quite so tough as a gun-barrel, but substantial! I contrived to keep a little memorandum book. In it I noted down that there were three hundred and eleven of us prisoners; two lieutenant-colonels, two majors, four captains, nine lieutenants, and two hundred and ninety-four enlisted men. These were in the march from Winchester. A few may have been added to our number at Tom's Brook. I have stated how it happened that none of those near me were robbed when captured. Those at a distance were not so fortunate; for, if circumstances permitted, the Confederates, being themselves sadly in want, often improved the opportunity to grab every article of value. At Tom's Brook I noted in my diary the following: