Miles in front the great cloud of dust, cutting across from horizon to horizon swelled slowly on toward the Rappahannock.

Behind them rode the Southern cavalry and masses of infantry were pressing forward, too.

Far off on either flank rolled the pleasant country, its beauty heightened by the loom of blue mountains.
Colonel Winchester had predicted truly.

The fighting between the Northern rearguard, and the Southern vanguard never ceased.

Every moment the bullets were whistling, and occasionally a cannon lent its deep roar to the crackling fire of the rifles.