thirtieth the only living human being we encountered was the aged squaw we had left at Catharines.

Never had I seen such a desolation of utter destruction, for amid the endless ocean of trees every oasis was a blackened waste, every town but a heap of sodden ashes, every garden a mass of decay, rotting under the autumn sun.

On the 30th of September, we marched into Tioga Fort, Colonel Shreve’s cannon thundering their welcome, and Colonel Proctor’s artillery band playing a most stirring air. But Lord! What a ragged, half-starved army it was! Though we cared nothing for that, so glad were we to see our flag flying and the batteaux lying in the river. And the music of the artillery filled me with solemn thoughts, for I thought of Lois and of Lana; and of Boyd, where he lay in his solitary grave under the frosty stars.