The cavalrymen cut the thick grass which grew everywhere, and fed it to their horses, eight hundred massive jaws munching in content.

The beasts stirred but little after their long ride and now and then one uttered a satisfied groan.
The officers drank their coffee and ate their food on the eastern piazza, which overlooked a sharp dip toward a creek three or four hundred yards away.

The night had rushed down suddenly after the fashion of the far South, and from the creek they heard faintly the hoarse frogs calling.

Beyond the grounds a close ring of sentinels watched, because Colonel Winchester had no mind to be surprised again by Forrest or by Fighting Joe Wheeler or anybody else.
The night was thick and dark and moist with clouds.

Dick, despite the peace that seemed to hang over everything, was oppressed.