Every little while they passed bodies of troops marching or encamped along the roads; and once they saw a line of army waggons, drab coloured, with yellow canvas tops, moving slowly in clouds of dust.
In the limpid morning light buzzards were already soaring over the green fields; the fresh odour of wild flowers came blowing in at the open car window; butterflies fluttered, wind-driven, helpless.
And now they were passing mounds of freshly turned red earth--long stretches of hillocks banked high and squared at the ends.
Hundreds of negroes were at work sodding them; here and there a flag fluttered and a bayonet gleamed.
"I believe all these little hills and ditches have something to do with forts," said Ailsa.

"Certainly that great mound must be part of a fort.

Do you see the cannon ?" Letty nodded, wide-eyed.

And now they were passing soldiers on every road, at every bridge, along every creek bank.
Squads of them, muskets shining, marched briskly along beside the railroad track; sentinels stood at every culvert, every flag house, every water tank and local station past which they rolled without stopping.

Acres of white tents flashed into view; houses and negro cabins became thicker; brick houses, too, appeared at intervals, then half-finished blocks fronting the dusty roads, then rows and lines of dwellings, and street after street swarming with negroes and whites.