the baggage-train. I was in the utmost gloom at my detention, being in a way responsible for the new movement. The chance to be, by ill luck, laid up while a battle might take place much disturbed me. I wrote my brother Jack I would not miss it for five hundred pounds.
While I lay in bed most impatient, the detachment went on, and soon after I had this letter from Christopher Gist, who was acting as guide:
Respected Sir: We are moving along as solemn
as a box-turtle, one day two miles, which
any smart turtle might compass. The pickets
are doubled, and men sleep with their arms, for,
good Lord! if a branch cracks they give an
alarm, and if a poor devil strays there is a scalp
gone, for every step of our march is watched.
Still I am sure there are no big parties out, for
I have been off in advance and been within half
a mile of the fort, and came nigh to losing my
hair, but with decent good fortune we have the
place. I should be easier with a few hundred of
our own people in the advance and on our skirts,
but they are kept in the rear, the Lord knows
why.
Captain Orme also wrote to me of frequent
night alarms, and of the general's
