82 CHICKAMAUGA. 



pected that Northern birds did not feel at 

 home on the scene of a great Southern vic- 

 tory. Here and there a nuthatch called, 

 and again I seemed to perceive a decided 

 strangeness in the voice. From the tip of a 

 fruit-tree in the Kelly yard a thrasher or a 

 mocker was singing like one possessed. It 

 was impossible to be sure which it was, and 

 the uncertainty pleased me so much, as a 

 testimony to the thrasher's musical powers, 

 that I would not go round the house in the 

 sun to get a nearer observation. Instead, I 

 went down to look at the monuments of the 

 regulars, with their "men cut in a rock." 

 Thence I returned to Snodgrass Hill for my 

 noonday rest, stopping once more at the 

 well, of course, and reading again some of 

 the placards, the number of which just here 

 bore impressive witness to the fierceness of 

 the battle at this point. One inscription I 

 took pains to copy : 



EN. J. B. HOOD WAS WOUNDED 

 11.10 A. M. 20 SEPT. '63 IN EDGE 

 OF TIMBER ON COVE ROAD i MILE 

 EAST OP SOUTH, LOOSING HIS LEG. 



It was exactly eleven o'clock as I went up 

 the hill toward the tower, and the workmen 



