There were few glimpses of color in the columns, but the men marched with a strong, elastic step.
They had all been born upon the farms or in the little villages, and they were familiar with the hills and forests.

They had been hunters, too, as soon as their arms were strong enough to hold rifle or shot gun.
Most of them had killed deer or bear in the mountains, and all of them had known how to ride from earliest childhood.

They had endured every hardship and they knew how to take care of themselves in any kind of country and in any kind of weather.
Harry smiled as he looked at their uniforms.

How different they were from some of the gay young companies of Charleston! These uniforms had been spun for them and made for them by their own mothers and wives and sisters or sweethearts.

They were all supposed to be gray, but there were many shades of gray, sometimes verging to a light blue, with butternut as the predominant color.