----- 我的陆军生活和菲尔堡
My visit recalled, intensified, the life in 1866. Bridging the years I seem to see again the plodding of weary but hopeful travellers journeying over a broad, desert waste, the isolation of a small defense less caravan, and the green spots here and there like angel dwelling places. The arrival at our destination after the dangers and risks of our journey, the completion of the strong stockade,-our temporary home, — the raising of the flag at its completion, the rehabilitation of the kaleidoscopic scenes of that longago with the forms that were companions in that tragic experience, are even now more like the fantasies of a fearful dream than matters of personal experience.
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