helped much to make the calm Summer nights pass agreeably. Among the
best of these was "Brave Boys are They," which I always thought was the
finest ballad, both in poetry and music, produced by the War.




CHAPTER XXXIV.

MAGGOTS, LICE AND RAIDERS--PRACTICES OF THESE HUMAN VERMIN--PLUNDERING
THE SICK AND DYING--NIGHT ATTACKS, AND BATTLES BY DAY--HARD TIMES FOR THE
SMALL TRADERS.

With each long, hot Summer hour the lice, the maggot-flies and the
N'Yaarkers increased in numbers and venomous activity. They were
ever-present annoyances and troubles; no time was free from them.
The lice worried us by day and tormented us by night; the maggot-flies
fouled our food, and laid in sores and wounds larvae that speedily
became masses of wriggling worms. The N'Yaarkers were human vermin
that preyed upon and harried us unceasingly.

They formed themselves into bands numbering from five to twenty-five,
each led by a bold, unscrupulous, energetic scoundrel. We now called
them "Raiders," and the most prominent and best known of the bands were
called by the names of their ruffian leaders, as "Mosby's Raiders,"
"Curtis's Raiders," "Delaney's Raiders," "Sarsfield's Raiders,"
"Collins's Raiders," etc.

As long as we old prisoners formed the bulk of those inside the Stockade,
the Raiders had slender picking. They would occasionally snatch a