He shivered and looked apprehensively into the chilly night.

His apprehension was not for a human foe, but for the unbroken spirits of darkness and mystery that can cow us all.
No tents were pitched.

Jackson shared the common lot, sitting by a fire with some of the higher officers, while three or four other young aides were near.

The sifts of snow turned after a while into a fine but steady snow, which continued half an hour.

The backs of the soldiers were covered with white, while their faces burned.