Nothing could seem more strange or be more unusual than halting in such a spot, and at such an hour; yet no man asks a question, or appears surprised. Those who have been at the cross-roads all day, gather in little groups and talk; and those who have been with me, lie down and doze. Wonderful are the effects of discipline and experience! A year ago how agitated would these same men have been, and how discussed this inexplicable delay! Now they are undisturbed, and leave it all to me. The videttes ride in and whisper reports, and ride out again with whispered instructions; yet this man relights his pipe, and that one goes on with his story. At length the Tennessee bed time is passed, and the videttes from the front "come in." The orders are given, "Be silent;" "Hold your sabres so that they will not clank;" "By file to the right;" and we are retracing our steps to Buena Vista. Riding by file makes a less intense noise, though the column is stretched out to twice its usual length, and the noise lasts twice as long. We mount the hill noiselessly, and I look with anxiety at the house. Do I see a light? No, 'tis but the moon glimmering on the window panes. We approach it--the dogs are as silent as the men. I am before it, and check Ida to her slowest walk--the column behind me hardly moves, and the horses seem to tread lightly. We are past, and no cur has yelped or person seen us--our first strategic movement is successful. "It was done first rate," whispers the sergeant behind me; "we got ahead of the dogs that time." On our left there is a corn field, with the tall Southern corn still standing. We halt, and two men dismount, and, in the shadow of a tree, take down the high rail fence. The column, turning in, passes up a corn row to the other side of the field; the two men, remaining, carefully replace the fence. The shadow of the tree hides our trail, and we have left no other sign behind us. On the other side of the field is a little basin, unploughed and grass-covered, wherein our horses are picketed. As I ride around it, I find they are completely hidden away; it is perfect for our purpose. The sentinels stand on the rising ground behind us, and in the clear moonlight, see over a wide expanse of fields; and here we lie down and securely sleep.