starlight still shone through, and he thought he caught a glimpse of someone on the other side.
'Hey, who's over there?'
It was a Yank on the other side, and Jeb froze.
'I'll shoot. Now who is over there?' The scout stood up.
'Don't get riled up, Yank, we're just sitting over here, same as you on your side.' There was a pause. 'What you doing, reb?'
'Sent down to picket this place, make sure you don't try and sneak across here. And you?' 'The same.' 'Got any coffee, Yank?' Again a pause.
'Yup. Trade you a pound of coffee mixed with real sugar for a pound of tobacco.'
'Sounds good to me, Yank. Let me ask my boys for their tobacco. I'll be right over.'
Jeb grinned. This scout knew his business. Now standing in the open he walked down the skirmish line.
'Come on, boys, give it up,' the scout whispered.
Some of the men cursed softly, one of them complaining they already had plenty of coffee, but the scout took their pouches.
'Take that hat off, sir,' the scout whispered as he strolled past Jeb. 'You stick out like a sore thumb with it on. And crawl down a bit closer so you can listen.'
The scout went down to the water's edge and held his hands up.
'Meet you halfway, Yank, and no foolery now.' 'Promise, reb.'
The scout splashed into the creek and Jeb watched him carefully. It wasn't more than knee-deep. The scout slowed, luring the Yank closer to their side.
'How are you, Yank?' the scout asked.
'Fine, and you?'
'Damn glad to be down here rather than up in the thick of all that fightin' today.'
'Damn right,' the Yank said. 'Where you from, Yank?'
'Name's Michael Greene. I'm from Illinois. And you?' 'Luke Snyder. I'm from Virginia.' The two shook hands.
'Got that tobacco? Ain't had a smoke in days.'
'Sure enough. Same for me with coffee. Would you boys mind if we lit a little fire to boil some up?'
'Naw, we won't shoot, but keep it back a ways from the creek.'
There was an exchange of packages, and then the flare of a match, which startled Jeb, causing him to crouch down lower. The two were lighting their pipes while standing right in the middle of the creek.
'Glad when this is over,' Snyder said. 'Just want to go home. My wife just had another baby.'
'How's.that?' the Yank chuckled.
'Oh, a furlough about nine months ago, right after we whipped you at Fredericksburg.'
The two laughed softly.
'We weren't at Fredericksburg. You sure wouldn't have whipped us. We was busy taking Vicksburg. I'm with Ord.' Jeb smiled. This scout was damn good. 'I heard you boys are tough.'
'Damn right we are. Sorry to tell you this, reb, but we're gonna whip you for sure this time, and then we can go home. Our boys ain't never lost a battle.'
'We'll see about that, Yank.'
'Grant is gonna just grab your Bobbie Lee by the nose. You'll see.'
'Again, we'll see. Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Yank.'
'Seemed like a hell of a lot of fighrin' further up the creek today,' Greene said. 'Bunch of bodies came floating down right around dark.'
'Yeah, there was.'
'You in it?'
'A bit,' Snyder replied.
'We win?'
'You got across the creek. Kind of figure that's where the fighting will be again, come morning.'
'I sure as hell hope so. And I'll just sit tight right here. Been in five battles, reb, wounded once. I've seen the elephant enough.'
'Same here,' Snyder said. 'You sit on one side, and I'll sit on the other. I got about fifty men with me, and we were told just to sit tight but spread the word if something was up.'
'About the same for us here. Reb, tell your boys we won't shoot if they won't, and let's outlive this one.'
'Agreed. Come dawn we'll do some more tradin'.'
Again there was the shaking of hands.
'Yeah, guess you're right, reb. Just wish the hell it was over with. Not married yet. My girl Lucy said she'd wait. Sure would love to have a baby with her the way you did with yours.'
'Better yet helping her to make one,' Snyder said, and they both chuckled.
'Well, I better get back,' the Yank said. 'My captain can be a stickler. Take care, reb.'
'You, too, Yank.'
'Go ahead and make your fire now, but keep it back a couple of hundred yards. Like I said, the captain is a stickler, he'd tell us to shoot at you, and frankly, that's murder to me, especially when I know a fella's name.'
They shook hands, parted, and the scout waded back to shore and walked past Jeb as if he didn't exist. Jeb waited a few minutes, crawled back, and then joined Snyder.
Snyder was silent, looking over at him.
'You hear it?' Snyder asked.
'Every word. Good work.'
'Damn, sir, I hated it.'
'Why?'
'Lying to him like that. He was for fair play, same as me. I hated to do it.'
'Duty, son,' Jeb said softly, patting him on the shoulder. 'We pull this day off and you can say you led the patrol that led to the march that won the war.'
Jeb walked back to his horse, mounted up, and started back up the road. Just around the bend and out of sight of the creek lanterns were set every couple of hundred feet by the side of the road. The head of Beauregard's column was coming down.
Beauregard was at the fore.
Jeb rode up, and the two saluted each other.
'The way ahead is clear, General. Not more than a company garrisoning the ford. You have clear ground just around this bend, then two hundred yards to the ford. I would not suggest forming a battle line. When ready, just have your men come on at the double, hit the water, and get across. I really couldn't see the road on the far side, but am assured it leads straight up to Buckeystown and the plateau.'
'Thank you, General Stuart.'
Beauregard took out his pocket watch and Jeb struck a match. It was three in the morning.
'An hour and fifteen minutes to first twilight,' Beauregard said. 'My Second Division is two miles behind this one. That should give them time to come up. We'll start the assault at four.'
'I'll take the lead if you don't mind,' Jeb said. 'My boys can be up to Buckeystown in fifteen minutes and then hold it if there's any additional Yankees up there.'
'Sounds fine with me, General.'
The two shook hands.
Beauregard passed the word back for his column to halt marching, the men to ground arms and sit down in place. No fires, no talking. The men were more than happy to comply, most, at least those with strong nerves, asleep in minutes.
Near McCausland's Ford 3:45 A.M.
Keep moving but keep it quiet, damn it,' Sergeant Bartlett hissed, The column of his regiment moved silently across the open fields, the lead in a formation that stretched back nearly a mile. Shortly after midnight Phil Sheridan himself had come into their camp. There was a hurried officers' meeting and minutes later word was passed, without drum-rolls or bugles, for the men to fall in, leaving packs behind. As each regiment formed, men were handed an additional forty rounds of ammunition and then told to form in column by company front.
