very tall and large specimen of humanity was named Gilman; the other was a small man, and, for my purpose, nameless. The vigilant Major detected this unauthorized flanking affair, and, being determined to put a stop to all such unmilitary proceedings, sung out:

"Vat for you shtray off dat way? Come back, I say to you! Dou-bel twit!" (quick)

The little man obeyed, and came back at a dog-trot. Gilman, however, hastened back slowly—at much too slow a gait to suit his impatient superior, who yelled out again:

"Dou-bel twit!—I say—dou-bel TWIT!"

But no faster came Gilman on, and the Major (who was a little man) rushed to him, and seizing him by the coat collar as he was crossing a fence, dragged him over,—then, drawing his sword and flourishing it about the head of the still doggedly defiant Gilman, exclaimed:

"You tink, because I am small, I'm be afraid of you? I will let you know! Dou-bel twit! now, or I will make two Gilman of you!"

There was a man called Tom Croke in Co. E—an extremely hard ticket—quarrelsome, venomous, and altogether thoroughly depraved. He had been a source of trouble and annoyance to the officers of the company ever since he came into it. On this expedition, I believe, he shot the top of one of his fingers off—an accident, as he told the captain (McNamara)—

"Devil d—n you," replied the latter, "it's a pity it wasn't your head!"

Tom Croke, for this or some other misdemeanor, was subsequently court-martialed and sent to Fort Macon to serve out his time, from which place he escaped to the rebels. On his way from the Fort to rebeldom he met a deserter coming into our lines, whom he directed as to the best route to pursue, and who in turn gave him such information as he desired to facilitate his escape.

When the expedition arrived at the bridge over Swift Creek it was evening. Our cavalry, which had preceded them, were bivouacked for the night on the other side, and our men at first took them to be rebels, but were soon undeceived.

There was a store-house in the village of Swift Creek, containing a variety of articles in the dry goods, grocery and merchandise line. Some of the boys smelt the plunder, and proceeded to confiscate. The wife of the owner of the store suspecting what was going on, went to Col. Fellows and told him the men were breaking in, and he immediately repaired to the scene of operations to put a stop to such work. A member of Co. K, who had been left on the watch, gave warning of the colonel's approach, and the raiders hid.

"What ho! there,—what does all this mean? What are you doing here?" (To Co. K man.)

"I'm on guard, sir."

"All right, madam," said the colonel; "you see there is a guard on."

What plunder the boys obtained it would be bootless to relate.

The expedition returned to Newbern, burning the bridge after them.

The camp of the 17th was situated in what was formerly a cotton field, on the banks of the river Trent, affording excellent facilities for washing clothes and bathing, of which most of the men availed themselves,—and at all hours of the day men could be seen bathing in the river, or squatted along its margin washing clothes. It seemed at first sight to one unacquainted with the peculiarities of the climate, to be a well chosen and healthy location (and indeed it was about the best in the vicinity); but the hanging mosses that everywhere shrouded the few solitary cedars which still survived the ravages of the pioneer's axe, showed the unmistakeable presence of fever and ague—that pest of new and warm countries. About a couple of hundred yards up the river, close to the county bridge, a fort was in process of completion,—the work of 'contrabands,' numbers of whom I observed busily employed in and around it. Beyond this were encamped some light batteries; while still further on, and at the crossing of a deep, sluggish stream called Brice's Creek, a number of detailed men were at work constructing a block-house (a square-built fort, made of hewn logs, compactly put together—and most conveniently constructed to be knocked to pieces by a six-pounder about a poor devil's ears). Between the artillery camp and the block-house was a brick dwelling-house, once the property of Gov. Speight, the late owner and family of which fled after the battle of Newbern. This house was afterwards demolished to supply bricks for chimneys of barracks built near by in the Fall. To the rear of this house, about 75 yards distant, beautifully shaded by fine old trees, was the tomb of Gen. Speight, a revolutionary hero, and one of the early Governors of North Carolina.

The plain on which the 17th were encamped is about two and a half miles long, and from one-half to two miles wide, and had, evidently, before the rude hand of war obliterated their boundaries and landmarks, consisted of two or three plantations. This plain was an excellent place for drilling, and nearly all reviews were held there.

The whole field gave evidence of having, at different times and in different parts, been camped upon by infantry, artillery, and cavalry—and everywhere evidences of military occupation were visible in the shape of broken bottles, dilapidated canteens, dippers and plates, and remnants of worn-out shoes, coats, blouses, pants, and harness, forgotten tent-stakes, sink holes and caved-in wells. While overhead and around, unnoticed and unmolested, on lazy wing sailed the huge turkey-buzzard, scenting the dead carcase and decayed garbage from afar, and patiently biding the absence of man from its vicinity ere he descended to gorge himself therewith.

I noticed a great variety of wild flowers in the fields, some of which were very beautiful. A species of cactus grows wild here; but is a very inferior kind. Wild garlic is also to be met with everywhere. A coarse grass, called Bear's grass, grows in bunches here, the leaves of which, when subjected to a roasting process in hot ashes, are uncommonly strong, and take the place of small ropes and cords with the natives, who apply it in a variety of ways, from the suspension of a dead pig to the tying of a shoe, or temporarily supplying the place of a lost button. From the centre of these bunches of Bears grass a stem five or six feet high shoots up in the spring-time, which is crowned with a crest of yellow flowers very beautiful to behold at a distance.

A few days' experience of camp-life gave me a better knowledge of its comforts and discomforts, its tribulations and my philosophy. It was the middle of August, and the weather very warm. The first night of my abode in my new quarters was undisturbed from any cause, from the fact that I was tired after the sea-voyage. But the second night I was destined to feel some of the annoyances to be endured by campaigners in warm climates. Mosquitoes revel in this congenial atmosphere, as do also the blue-tail fly, and a species of biting insect like the common house-fly, while gallinippers, gnats, ants, and biting sand-fleas, (which play second fiddle to the old-fashioned iron-clad chaps, their bites making one squirm as if twinged by a bad conscience,) and grey-backs, all attack the hapless sleeper in succession, in a body, by detail, in squads, battalion,—in brigades drawn up in echelon—in front, flank and rear. They scale the walls of his fortress in the very teeth of a fierce cannonade of imprecations—burst the barriers of bedclothes—penetrate the abatti of woolen socks and tightly-tied drawers—and though, even after gaining the inside of your works, they are subjected to a deadly cross-fire of small arms, yet they invariably "attain the object of their reconnoissance." The bayonet is powerless against them, and they never draw off from the attack till fairly exhausted with the feast of