Ere it is light the bugle is sounded, and after hastily dispatching our breakfast, we move on our way. All along the road to-day we encounter squads of rebels, scouting parties from Johnson's and Roddy's commands, all of which goes to prove that the raiders Johnson or Roddy, or both, are on the north side of the Tennessee, and in consequence we anticipate considerable opposition before we reach our destination. Sure enough, at four o'clock P. M., our advance is checked. Colonel Rowett soon dismounts the regiments and forms a battle line. Our skirmishers are advanced and firing soon commences in every direction, sounding as though we were surrounded. A scout is now seen dashing from the brush to where the Colonel stands. He informs him of our danger and the fearful odds against us; that the rebels would soon be upon us if we remained there any longer. The bugle is sounded; the men spring into their saddles. Charley is champing and neighing. The Colonel's eye seems to be everywhere. He is now dashing down the road, with the regiment closely following. On we go towards Waterloo. The rebels hover on our flanks, front and rear. There is promiscuous firing all evening. They seem loth to throw any considerable force against us; feel loth to try our steel. By nine P. M., we arrive at Waterloo, four miles from Eastport, Tennessee River. The rebels soon abandon their expected game. At Waterloo we go into camp, having traveled sixty-five miles since morning, capturing twelve rebels during the day and evening.
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