He saw through the window that they were still running among the mountains, but they did not seem to be so high here as they were at the river by which they had fought in the night.

He knew from his geography and his calculation of time that they must be far into that part of Virginia which is now West Virginia.
There was no rain now, at least where the train was running, but the sun had risen on a cold world.

Far up on the higher peaks he saw a fine white mist which he believed to be falling snow.

Obviously it was winter here and putting on the big military coat he drew it tightly about him.
Others in the coach were waking up and some of them, grown feverish with their wounds, were moving restlessly on their seats, where they lay protected by the blankets of their fellows.
Dick now and then saw a cabin nestling in the lee of a hill, with the blue smoke rising from its chimney into the clear, wintry air, and small and poor as they were they gave him a singular sense of peace and comfort.

His mind felt for a few moments a strong reaction from war and its terrors, but the impulse and the strong purpose that bore him on soon came back.
The train rushed through a pass and entered a sheltered valley a mile or two wide and eight or ten miles long.