Thick, yellow curls showed from under the edge of his cap.

His face, like Harry's, had turned red before wind and rain.

His dress was a marvel, made of the finest gray without a spot or stain.

A sash of light blue silk encircled his waist, and the costly gray cloak thrown back a little from his shoulders revealed a silk lining of the same delicate blue tint.

His gauntlets were made of the finest buckskin, and a gold-hilted small sword swung from his sash.
"A dandy," thought Harry, "but the bravest of the brave, for all that." "My name's Sherburne, Captain Philip Sherburne," said the young leader.
"I'm from the Valley of Virginia, and so are my men.