grew thick to the water's edge. I always found it interesting to
watch the barge unload the men at sundown.

At twilight some of the soldiers came on board and laid our
mattresses side by side on the after deck. Pajamas and loose
gowns were soon en evidence, but nothing mattered, as they were
no electric lights to disturb us with their glare. Rank also
mattered not; Lieutenant-Colonel Wilkins and his wife lay down to
rest, with the captains and lieutenants and their wives, wherever
their respective strikers had placed their mattresses (for this
was the good old time when the soldiers were allowed to wait upon
officers 'families).

Under these circumstances, much sleep was not to be thought of;
the sultry heat by the river bank, and the pungent smell of the
arrow-weed which lined the shores thickly, contributed more to
stimulate than to soothe the weary nerves. But the glare of the
sun was gone, and after awhile a stillness settled down upon this
company of Uncle Sam's servants and their followers. (In the Army
Regulations, wives are not rated except as "camp followers.")

But even this short respite from the glare of the sun was soon to
end; for before the crack of dawn, or, as it seemed to us,
shortly after midnight, came such a clatter with the fires and
the high-pressure engine and the sparks, and what all they did in
that wild and reckless land, that further rest was impossible,
and we betook ourselves with our mattresses to the staterooms,
for another attempt at sleep, which, however, meant only failure,
as the sun rose incredibly early on that river, and we were glad
to take a hasty sponge from a basin of rather thick looking