At about two o'clock the next day, as I was plodding over a hot dusty road somewhere in Culpeper County, I met a wagon, which stopped as I approached. The teamster beckoned to me to come to him. He said: "Don't go up that hill yonder. There is a crazy man in the road and he's a-tryin' to shoot everybody he sees. Better go round him." I thanked the teamster, who drove on. At the foot of the ascending hill I looked ahead to see whether there was a way to get round it, but the road seemed better than any other way. Heavy clouds were rolling up from the south, with wind and thunder. A farmhouse was on the hill at the left of the road; I wanted to get there if possible before the rain. In the road I saw nobody. I walked up the hill, thinking that, after all, my friend the wagoner was playing a practical joke upon me. All at once, from the side of the road, a Confederate soldier showed himself. He sprang into the middle of the road some six paces in front of me, presented his gun at me with deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger without saying a word. Altogether it was a very odd performance on his part and an unpleasant experience for me. When his gun failed to fire, he changed his attitude at once, and began the second part of his programme. He dropped his piece to the position of ordered arms, kept himself erect as on dress-parade, raised his right hand high, and shouted, "The cannons! the cannons!" I stood and looked at him ten seconds; then I tried to slip round him, keeping my eyes on him, however, for fear that his gun might, after all, be loaded; he faced me again, and repeated his cry, "The cannons! the cannons!" The rain was beginning to fall in big drops. I rushed past him, and seeing--nearer to me than the house--some immense haystacks with overhanging projections resulting from continued invasion by cattle, I was soon under their sheltering eaves. As I ran, I could hear behind me the warning voice of the soldier, who evidently had lost his reason in battle. * * * * * As night fell on the 24th I was standing behind a tree, waiting to surprise Company H. I had reached the lines while they were moving; Hill's Light Division was passing me. Soon came General Gregg, riding at the head of his brigade; then one regiment after another till the last--the First--appeared in sight, with Company C leading. I remained behind the tree; at last I could see Captain Haskell marching by the side of Orderly-sergeant Mackay; then I stepped out and marched by the side of the Captain. At first, in the twilight, he did not know me; then, with a touch of gladness in his voice, he said: "I did not expect you back so soon. Are you fully recovered?" "I report for duty, Captain," I replied.