winds cut them, but the blood flowed warm and strong in their veins as
they trod the upward path between the ridges. Once more a verse of the
defiant Dixie rolled and echoed through the lofty and bleak pine forest:

"How the South's great heart rejoices
At your cannon's ringing voices;
To arms!
For faith betrayed, and pledges broken,
Wrongs inflicted, insults spoken
To arms!
Advance the flag of Dixie."

Now on the heights the last shreds and patches of autumn were blown away
by the winds of winter. The sullen skies lowered continually. Flakes
of snow whirled into their faces, but they merely bent their heads
to the storm and marched steadily onward. They had not been called
Jackson's Foot Cavalry for nothing. They were proud of the name,
and they meant to deserve it more thoroughly than ever.

"I take it," said Dalton to Harry, "that some change has occurred in the
Northern plans. The Army of the Potomac must be marching along in a new
line."

"So do I. The battle will be fought in lower country."

"And we will be with Lee and Longstreet in a day or two."

"So it looks."

Jackson stopped twice, a full day each time, for rest, but at the end of