Our regiment had been out to the front, on duty, and was returning to camp.

It was nearly dark, and we saw a black wind cloud rising.

The lightning's flash and the deep muttering thunders warned us to seek shelter as speedily as possible.

Some of us ran in under the old depot shed, and soon the storm struck us.

It was a tornado that made a track through the woods beyond Shelbyville, and right through the town, and we could follow its course for miles where it had blown down the timber, twisting and piling it in every shape.