We started again in the afternoon, passing through Lewisburg, and going into camp four miles beyond at mid-night. Just at sunset we waded Greenbrier River, where it was about fifty rods wide and waist deep. We crossed in three columns, forming a beautiful sight to one placed where he could view it. The sun shining on the water and on the polished gun-barrels made it dazzling to the eyes, while every now and then some unfortunate fellow would make a miss step and get a complete ducking, thereby creating a laugh at his expense. On the 26th, we marched all day, resting once for a little time, when the men drew some beef. We had a nice little shower in the afternoon, the first rain since leaving Staunton. Next day we marched eighteen miles, our regiment taking the advance. It rained hard after we went into camp, and we put up our “Dog-Tents,” the first time we had done it for ten days. We here met a small train, from which was issued three-fourths of a day’s rations of hard bread, bacon, sugar and coffee. The men slaughtered a few straggling porkers they discovered near camp, and then managed to have a real jolly supper in the rain. We were on the road early on the morning of the 28th, and, at noon, met another train, and drew two days’ rations of hard bread. On the 29th our march was over quite a hilly road, along the New River, through mountain gorges, and over rushing streams, crossing Gauley River at Gauley Bridge—no bridge however only in name—where the Gauley and New Rivers unite and form the Kanawha. Near this spot is a view of natural scenery, almost rivalling Niagara in some respects. Upon a ledge of rocks overhanging the river, you can stand and look directly down a distance of two hundred feet to the bed of the river, then cast your eyes directly in front of you and see the other river coming down through the mountain gorges and emptying into the New, while all around the mountains tower up in all their majesty and grandeur. We went into camp about one mile beyond the bridge.