“I'm not thinking about it at all,” replied Harry with a laugh. “I've quit trying to guess what our general is going to do, but I fancy that he means to lead us against the enemy. He has the numbers now.” “I suppose you're right,” said Dalton. “I've been trying to guess all along, but I think I'll give it up now and merely follow where the general leads.” The bugles blew, the troops rapidly fell into line and marched northward along the turnpike, the Creole band began to play again one of those lilting waltz tunes, and the speed of the men increased, their feet rising and falling swiftly to the rhythm of the galloping air. Jackson, who was near the head of the column, looked back and Harry saw a faint smile pass over his grim face. He saw the value of the music. “I never heard such airs in our Presbyterian church,” said Dalton to Harry. “But this isn't a church.” “No, it isn't, but those Creole tunes suit here. They put fresh life into me.” “Same here. And they help the men, too. Look how gay they are.” Up went the shining sun. The brilliant blue light, shot with gold, spread from horizon to horizon, little white clouds of vapor, tinted at the edges with gold from the sun, floated here and there. It was beautiful May over all the valley. White dust flew from the turnpike under the feet of so many marching men and horses, and the wheels of cannon. Suddenly the Georgia troops that had suffered so severely at McDowell began to sing a verse from the Stars and Bars, and gradually the whole column joined in: “Now Georgia marches to the front And close beside her come Her sisters by the Mexique sea With pealing trump and drum, Till answering back from hill and glen The rallying cry afar, A nation hoists the Bonnie Blue Flag That bears a single star.” It was impossible not to feel emotion. The face of the most solemn Presbyterian of them all flushed and his eyes glowed. Now the band, that wonderful band of the Acadians, was playing the tune, and the mighty chorus rolled and swelled across the fields. Harry's heart throbbed hard. He was with the South, his own South, and he was swayed wholly by feeling. The Acadians were leading the army. Harry saw Jackson whispering something to a staff officer. The officer galloped forward and spoke to Taylor, the commander of the Louisiana troops. Instantly the Acadians turned sharply from the turnpike and walked in a diagonal line through the fields. The whole army followed and they marched steadily northward and eastward.