How those skirmishers hang on to us! Whizz-z! there went their bullets right over our head!" The Winchesters turned, delivered a heavy volley into a thicket, whence the bullets had come, and marched on, looking eagerly now for water.
They began to talk about it.

They spoke of the cool brooks, "branches" they called them, that they had known at home, and they told how, when they found one, they would first drink of it, and then lie down in its bed and let its water flow over them.
But Dick's thirst could not wholly take his mind from the tremendous scenes accompanying that sullen and defiant retreat.

Hills and mountains were in deepest gloom, save when the signal lights of the Southern armies flashed back and forth.

The clouded moon touched everything nearer by with somber gray.

The fire of cannon rolled through the forest and gorges with redoubled echoes.
A shout suddenly came from the head of the Winchester column.
"Water! Water!" they cried.