We rode upon the summit of the wave of success.

The boys had got clean clothes, and had their faces washed.

I saw then what I had long since forgotten--a "cockade." The Kentucky girls made cockades for us, and almost every soldier had one pinned on his hat.

But stirring events were hastening on, the black cloud of battle and war had begun then to appear much larger than a man's hand, in fact we could see the lightning flash and hear the thunder roar.
We were at Harrodsburg; the Yankees were approaching Perryville under General Buell.

The Yankees had been dogging our rear, picking up our stragglers and capturing some of our wagon trains.
This good time that we were having was too good to last.