Jack and Harry were pretty busily employed about the camp for the first two or three days following their arrival at Booneville. After that time they had more leisure, and were greatly interested in many matters that came under their observation.

One of the first things to arouse their curiosity was the camp of the regular soldiers that formed a part of General Lyon's expedition. When they heard of this part of the force they wanted to know what a “regular” soldier was.

“They are called regulars,” the quartermaster explained, “because they belong to the regular army which the country maintains in times of peace. Compared with the volunteer army, the regulars are few in number, but as long as we have only Indians to contend with they are quite enough for all practical purposes. In time of peace our regular army includes only twenty thousand men, but in case of war the president calls on the different states to send volunteer troops to the field in such number as may be wanted. The president called for troops to put down the rebellion, and the states that remained loyal to the Union have sent the number required of them in proportion to their population.”

“That's what is meant by the 'quota' of each state, I suppose,” said Jack.

“Yes,” was the reply. “The quota of a state is made out according to its population, and there have been some funny complications arising out of this point. In order to have as many representatives in Congress as possible, and for other reasons, some of the new states have been overstating their population, or claiming more inhabitants than they really have. Now, when it comes to furnishing troops on the same basis, they are trying to understate their population, and declare that they made mistakes in their previous figures.”

“It is like a man claiming to be rich in order to obtain credit or 'show off,' and then pleading poverty as a reason for not paying his debts.”

“That's exactly the case,” was the reply. “You could not have made a better illustration.”

Neither Jack nor Harry could see that there was any great difference between the camp of the regulars and that of the volunteers, excepting that the former seemed to be under more rigid discipline. When it came to drilling and performing the evolutions necessary to military life it was evident that the regulars were greatly the superiors, but the youths naturally concluded that it was simply a question of experience. “These regulars,” said Jack, “have been a long while in the service, and had nothing to do except to learn their business. Wait till the volunteers have been the same time under arms, and they 'll come out just as good soldiers.”

“Right you are,” said the quartermaster, who overheard the remark. “It takes time and practice to make a soldier; the raw recruit may be just as brave as the veteran, but one veteran is worth as much as a dozen raw recruits, for the simple reason that he has been drilled and disciplined.”

The youths talked with some of the regulars, and found that they had not troubled themselves much about the causes of the war nor the questions involved in the contest. The most they knew was that they were enlisted to serve under the government. They were there to obey the orders of their officers, and that was the whole business.

It was the same with some of the regular officers when the war broke out, but by no means with all. Some of them treated the question of loyalty as altogether a matter over which they had no control; they were to support the government, and had no occasion to trouble themselves about political questions. Others entered into the political bearings of the subject, and were swayed according to their predilections. Those born and reared in the Northern states adhered to the national cause almost to a man, and served according to the best of their abilities, while the majority of those who came from the Southern states considered themselves bound to go as did their states. These men resigned their commissions in the army and entered the service of the Confederacy, though there were some who felt that while they could not fight against their native states, it would not be compatible with honor for them to take arms against the national government. These officers remained neutral throughout the war, some of them staying quietly at home, while others went abroad to be out of the reach of disturbing influences.

It was a noticeable circumstance that the spirit of loyalty to the government was stronger among the enlisted soldiers of the regular army than among the officers, in proportion to their numbers. In the instances where the forts and arsenals in the Southern states were treacherously surrendered to the secessionists at the beginning of the war, nearly all the soldiers refused to serve against the government, even when their officers urged them to do so.

Preparations for the march into the southwestern part of Missouri were pushed as rapidly as possible, but the difficulty of getting together the necessary wagons and animals for transportation purposes consumed a fortnight of valuable time. This time was utilized by the state authorities, who gathered several thousand men at Lexington and marched thence in the direction of the Arkansas frontier, where they were to meet the famous Texan ranger, Ben McCulloch, who was to come north to join them. In spite of all his activity General Lyon was not able to get away from Booneville in season to head off General Price and the rebels that were serving under him.

But the rebels came near meeting another obstacle that they did not know of. General Sweeney, with the brigades of Generals Sigel and Saloman, marched from Rolla in the direction of Springfield, and so quickly did he move that Price had no knowledge of his advance. As soon as he reached Springfield General Sweeney sent General Sigel westward in the direction of Carthage to head off the rebels who were supposed to be under command of Price. The fact was the latter general had already gone south with his escort to meet Ben McCulloch; the state troops which General Sigel was trying to cut off were consequently headed by Governor Jackson in person.

The two forces met each other on the fifth of July not far from Carthage and fought a battle which was very much like the one of Booneville in the extent of its casualties, though less successful for the Union cause. Sigel's command was only about one-fourth the number of those opposed to him; nearly two thousand of the rebels were mounted men, although very few of them had any weapons whatever, a fact which was unknown to the union commander. When he saw this great force pressing on his flanks, he naturally supposed his column to be in danger, and prudently gave the order to retire from the field. The retirement was effected in good order, and though the rebels pursued a few miles they inflicted no damage. The collision delayed the movements of the rebels toward the southwest, though it did not prevent it, and the elation which they felt over the repulse of the enemy was more than an offset for the delay.

On the march from Booneville to Springfield strict orders were given that there should be no depredating on private property, the rights of every citizen being fully respected. The order was very well obeyed, but it was impossible to carry it out to its fullest extent. Chickens that did not roost high had a habit of disappearing at night and never turning up again except in the stewpans of some of the soldiers or possibly in those of the officers; pigs that strayed from their pens when the army was about did not readily get back again, but on the whole there was not much cause of remonstrance on the part of the inhabitants.

The most serious complaint was on the part of the union men, and certainly they had a right to say something on the subject. The situation was expressed in this way by one of them who was talking with an officer in the presence of Jack and Harry:

“Look a-here,” said the citizen “why don't you-'uns go and take Jones's corn and potatoes and anything else you want? He's a secesher of the worst sort, and you ought to make him sweat for it. When the state troops went through here they took my horses and corn and wagons and paid me with receipts that I can't sell anywhere for five cents on the dollar. I tried to get them to let me alone, but they said I'd been saying I was a union man, and if I was I'd got to help support the war, and they'd take everything I had. They did n't touch Jones, because he's on their side.

“The rebels come along and plunder the union men, but when you-'uns come you don't touch the seceshers nor anybody else, except to pay in clean cash for what you want. It's a one-sided business anyhow, and if it keeps on I 'll have to turn secesh to save myself.”

This was actually the case for some time in Missouri and other border-states, and there is no doubt that many men who were in favor of the Union at the start became rebels in course of time in order to save their property. After a while affairs were changed and the men who were on the side of the rebellion had to suffer when our armies came in their vicinity. The property of all was seized wherever wanted. A union man was compensated for his loss, while a pronounced rebel had great difficulty in securing compensation, and very often did not get anything whatever.

Later in the war Jack and Harry became known for their expertness in foraging, and many were the chickens and pigs that fell into their hands. They had splendid noses for scenting game, and when they could not find anything edible in a section of country it was pretty certain that the region had already been swept bare.

The skill acquired by our soldiers in catching “game” is well illustrated in the way they used to take pigs while marching at will along the road. A pig would make its appearance by the roadside along which a regiment was making its way. Some of the foremost men would throw out a few grains of corn, and, at the same time word would be passed along the line and several of the men in the rear would fix their bayonets on their guns. Piggy, all unsuspicious, would be tolled by the corn close to the roadside, and as the rear soldiers came along two of them transfixed the creature through the neck with a bayonet and swung him in the air. He was caught in the arms of two other soldiers, who speedily disemboweled him, and then cut up and distributed the meat. It was all done without breaking out of the line of march, and was characterized by the officers as a “wonderful triumph of mind over matter.”

Chickens were the favorite plunder of food-seeking soldiers, partly on account of their toothsome character and partly in view of their portability. Pigs and sheep came next in the line of desirable things, as they could be subdivided with ease and if necessary with great celerity.