They could look into the Rebel camp in the valley of the stream, a few hundred yards distant.
The cooks were beginning their preparations for breakfast, and gave our men a fine opportunity to learn the process of making Confederate corn-bread and coffee.

Some of the Rebels saw our men, and supposed they were their own forces, who had taken up a new position.

Several walked into our lines, and found themselves prisoners of war.
Previous to that day I had witnessed several skirmishes, but this was my first battle of importance.

Distances seemed much greater than they really were.

I stood by the side of Captain Totten's battery as it opened the conflict.
"How far are you firing ?" I asked.
"About eight hundred yards; not over that," was the captain's response.
I should have called it sixteen hundred, had I been called on for an estimate.
Down the valley rose the smoke of Sigel's guns, about a mile distant, though, apparently, two or three miles away.
Opposite Sigel's position was the camp of the Arkansas Division: though it was fully in my sight, and the tents and wagons were plainly visible, I could not get over the impression that they were far off.
The explosions of our shells, and the flashes of the enemy's guns, a short distance up the slope on the opposite side of the creek, seemed to be at a considerable distance.
To what I shall ascribe these illusions, I do not know.