All this time the stream of troops—regiments, brigades and divisions—had flowed on. Of course, soldiers who were with their colors had the right of way, and the stragglers were obliged to stumble along as best they could, over the logs and through the bushes at the sides of the roads or skirt along the edges of the fields and woods adjoining. It was this fact added to their exhausted and crippled condition, that made it almost impossible for stragglers to overtake their regiments until they halted for the night. Even then it was often midnight before the last of the wayfarers, weary and worn, dragged their aching limbs into camp. Si started forward briskly, but soon found it was no easy matter to gain the mile or so that the 200th Ind. was now ahead of him. It was about all he could do to keep up with the fast-moving column and avoid failing still further to the rear. Presently the bugles sounded a halt for one of the hourly rests. "Now," said Si to himself, "I'll have a good chance to git along tor'd the front. The soljers 'll all lie down in the fence corners an' leave the road clear. I'll jest git up an' dust!" The sound of the bugles had scarcely died away when the pike was deserted, and on either side, as far as the eye could reach, the prostrate men that covered the ground mingled in a long fringe of blue. Si got up into the road and started along the lane between these lines of recumbent soldiers. His gait was a little shaky, for the blisters on his feet began to give evidence of renewed activity. He trudged pluckily along, limping some in spite of himself, but on the whole making very good headway. Pretty soon he struck a veteran regiment from Illinois, the members of which were sitting and lying around in all the picturesque and indescribable postures which the old soldiers found gave them the greatest comfort during a "rest." Then they commenced—that is, it was great sport for the Sucker boys, though Si did not readily appreciate the humorous features of the scene. "What rigiment is this?" asked Si, timidly. "Same old rijiment!" was the answer from half a dozen at once. A single glance told the swarthy veterans that the fresh-looking youth who asked this conundrum belonged to one of the new regiments, and they immediately opened their batteries upon him: "Left—left-=left!" "Hayfoot—strawfoot! Hayfoot—strawfoot!" keeping time with Si's somewhat irregular steps. "Hello, there, you! Change step and you'll march easier!" "Look at that 'ere poor feller; the only man left alive of his regiment! Great Cesar, how they must have suffered! Say, what rijiment did you b'long to?" "Paymaster's comin', boys, here's a chap with a pay-roll round his neck!" Si had put on that morning the last of the paper collars he had brought from home. "You'd better shed that knapsack, or it'll be the death of ye!" "I say, there, how's all the folks to home?" "How d'ye like it as far as you've got, any way?"