Again, as at my former visit, the work of unpacking, assorting, and distributing to different hospitals and those sick in their quarters had to be gone through with. Most of the sick who were in these hospitals upon my former visit had been sent away, but they were filled with others quite as needy. The afternoon of the 29th I rode out with Sergeant Summerville to the camp of the Twenty-fourth Michigan, to learn the condition of the sick and what they were most needing. The regiment was encamped in a beautiful place about a mile and a half from the once pleasant little village of Culpepper. The hospital I found entirely empty. A few had been sent to the division hospital at Culpepper, but none were dangerously ill. From both surgeon and chaplain I learned that the health of the regiment was never better, and that whatever stores I had designed for them had better be given to those more needy. Here for the first time I had the pleasure of meeting that excellent lady, Mrs. Chaplain Way. Who knows how far her kind care and advice and influence went toward not only restoring the sick to health, but preventing sickness? As the day was far spent, and having about nine miles to ride, we made only a short stay, and then headed our horses for “home.” After passing through Culpepper, we struck across lots for Pony Mountain. We were not troubled with fences, but found plenty of mud and ditches to be gotten over and through as best we could. On our way to the Twenty-fourth, we rode over Pony Mountain, instead of taking a circuit around it. It was decidedly romantic climbing the steep ascent, clambering over rocks and urging our way through the thick bushes, which at times almost impeded our progress. On the top of the mountain was a signal station. Here we dismounted to rest our horses, while we took a good view of the surrounding country. The landscape before us was picturesque and grand. The vast Army of the Potomac was encamped about us; white tents clustered in every valley and covered every hill-side. At our left lay the village of Culpepper; the Blue Ridge with its snowy peaks loomed up in the distance; while a little to the southward, just across the Rapidan, was the enemy’s country, with its long lines of fortifications crowned with frowning, glistening guns. At the station, the signal officer was making various evolutions and movements with his little black and white flag, conveying, perhaps, important messages to the commanding general.