On James Island.
Thompson and Rice. Down the green
lane in the forest spoken of in the letter
overleaf, to just beyond the sign post. The
hostile pickets were within less than pistol-
shot of each other; we dismounted in order to
go as far as possible. It was a curious fan-
cy to think that if I had walked twenty yards
beyond a given spot that I should find my-
self a prisoner and see my Charleston friends
again under novel circumstances. I wasn�t
tempted to try the experiment, however. Re-
turning, rode down another land to the left.
As we emerged form the woods the Colonel
of a Connecticut regiment cantered up to give
the pickets instructions in case of a night-sup-
rise. Back to quarters. A visit to George
Edwards tent. Supper; ale; talk, scrib-
bling and smoke. A windy night, and
some anticipations of an attack, perhaps
in consequence of the story of another deserter,
a German, who came in to-day.
25. Wednesday. Under canvas all
day except an occasional saunter to head-
quarters, or into Serrell�s office. Weather
sultry but not oppressively so.
26. Thursday. A day of desultory
loafing. To the pier with Thompson; both