This is our place, along a little brook, another tributary of the Manassas." They stopped in a grove and disposed the men, twenty in number, along a line of several hundred yards, with instructions not to fire unless they knew positively what they were shooting at.

Harry and St.Clair remained near the middle of the line, at the edge of the brook, where they sat down on the bank.

The country was open in front of them, and Harry saw a distant light.
"What's that ?" he asked.
"The campfire of a Yankee outpost.

I told you they were very near." "And that, I suppose, is one of their bugles." A faint but musical note was brought to them by the light wind blowing in their faces.
"That's what it is.

It may be the signal of some movement, but they can't attempt anything serious without showing themselves.