"We're about half way to Washington, I judge," he said, "an' I expect a
lot of our camp followers and grass-green men are all the way there by
now, tellin' Abe Lincoln an' everybody else that a hundred thousand
rebels fell hard upon us on the plain of Manassas."

He laughed deep down in his throat and Dick again drew courage and
cheerfulness from one who had such a great store of both.

"How did it happen? Our defeat, I mean," asked Dick. "I thought almost
to the very last moment that we had the victory won."

"Their reserves came an' ours didn't. But the boys did well. Lots
worse than this will happen to us, an' we'll live to overcome it.
I've been through a heap of hardships in my life, Dick, but I always
remember that somebody else has been through worse. Let's go down the
hill. The boys have found a branch an' are washin' up."

By "branch" he meant a brook, and Dick went with him gladly. They
found a fine, clear stream, several feet broad and a foot deep, flowing
swiftly between the slopes, and probably emptying miles further on into
Bull Run. Already it was lined by hundreds of soldiers, mostly boys,
who were bathing freely in its cool waters. Dick and the sergeant
joined them and with the sparkle of the current fresh life and vigor
flowed into their veins.

An officer took command, and when they had bathed their faces, necks,
and arms abundantly they were allowed to take off their shoes and socks
and put their bruised and aching feet in the stream.