One afternoon while we were there, Harding Witt and I started out for a walk to see what there was to be seen going over towards the battlefield. We had just passed a deserted log house with a dead horse lying in front of it, when we overtook a long, lank, lean woman; she had a boy about eight years old with her. She had a large bundle of bedding on her head; in one hand she had a basket full of cooking utensils and was holding onto the bundle with the other. As we approached she called out to James, who was heavily loaded with household things, "Geems, whorey up, you are so slow!" "Who lives in that house we have just passed?" said I, pointing to the log cabin. "I did." "Were you there during the fight?" "Guess I was." "Where was your husband?" "He war dead." "Was he killed in the battle?" "No, big Pete Jones killed him about two months ago." "How far is it to Germania Ford?" "Two skips and a right long jump ar reckon," and Harding and I trudged along as we had learned the distance to Germania Ford. By the 16th, it became interesting and picturesque to see the Johnnies signaling in the evening from every hilltop on the other side of the Rapidan; we seemed to be very near them--almost among them. The afternoon of the 18th, things looked very ominous; great clouds of dust could be seen rising all along the southern horizon; our trains were moving to the rear; large masses of provisions were being destroyed. Just about sunset Confederate troops could be seen on the high ground on the other side of the river, and as darkness came on, the southern and southwestern sky became illuminated, indicating camps of an army. Signaling, too, was carried on vigorously from the hilltops. During the afternoon we were told that the army was to fall back to the north side of the Rappahannock and that our brigade was to act as rear guard. The first part of the night dragged slowly along and it was past midnight before we got started, but the road was clear, and once under way we moved rapidly. Our regiment led the brigade on this march and as we approached a road that led to Raccoon Ford a little way off to the right, General Reno rode up to the head of the column and showed some anxiety. The Confederates had something of a force at Raccoon Ford and he, I imagine, knew we were running pretty close to them. They did not attempt to disturb us, however; they very likely did not know we were passing so near them, and we sped along, reaching Kelley's Ford about noon the 19th, having marched a distance of twenty-three miles.