THE GUNS OF SHILOH

A STORY OF THE GREAT WESTERN CAMPAIGN

By Joseph A. Altsheler

FOREWORD

"The Guns of Shiloh, " a complete story in itself, is the complement of"The Guns of Bull Run. " In "The Guns of Bull Run" the Civil War andits beginnings are seen through the eyes of Harry Kenton, who is on theSouthern side. In "The Guns of Shiloh" the mighty struggle takes itscolor from the view of Dick Mason, who fights for the North and who iswith Grant in his first great campaign. 

THE CIVIL WAR SERIES

 VOLUMES IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES

 THE GUNS OF BULL RUN. THE GUNS OF SHILOH. THE SCOUTS OF STONEWALL. THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM. THE STAR OF GETTYSBURG. THE ROCK OF CHICKAMAUGA. THE SHADES OF THE WILDERNESS. THE TREE OF APPOMATTOX. 

 PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES

 HARRY KENTON, A Lad Who Fights on the Southern Side. DICK MASON, Cousin of Harry Kenton, Who Fights on the Northern Side. COLONEL GEORGE KENTON, Father of Harry Kenton. MRS. MASON, Mother of Dick Mason. JULIANA, Mrs. Mason's Devoted Colored Servant. COLONEL ARTHUR WINCHESTER, Dick Mason's Regimental Commander. COLONEL LEONIDAS TALBOT, Commander of the Invincibles, a Southern Regiment. LIEUTENANT COLONEL HECTOR ST. HILAIRE, Second in Command of the Invincibles. ALAN HERTFORD, A Northern Cavalry Leader. PHILIP SHERBURNE, A Southern Cavalry Leader. WILLIAM J. SHEPARD, A Northern Spy. DANIEL WHITLEY, A Northern Sergeant and Veteran of the Plains. GEORGE WARNER, A Vermont Youth Who Loves Mathematics. FRANK PENNINGTON, A Nebraska Youth, Friend of Dick Mason. ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, A Native of Charleston, Friend of Harry Kenton. TOM LANGDON, Friend of Harry Kenton. GEORGE DALTON, Friend of Harry Kenton. BILL SKELLY, Mountaineer and Guerrilla. TOM SLADE, A Guerrilla Chief. SAM JARVIS, The Singing Mountaineer. IKE SIMMONS, Jarvis' Nephew. AUNT "SUSE, " A Centenarian and Prophetess. BILL PETTY, A Mountaineer and Guide. JULIEN DE LANGEAIS, A Musician and Soldier from Louisiana. JOHN CARRINGTON, Famous Northern Artillery Officer. DR. RUSSELL, Principal of the Pendleton School. ARTHUR TRAVERS, A Lawyer. JAMES BERTRAND, A Messenger from the South. JOHN NEWCOMB, A Pennsylvania Colonel. JOHN MARKHAM, A Northern Officer. JOHN WATSON, A Northern Contractor. WILLIAM CURTIS, A Southern Merchant and Blockade Runner. MRS. CURTIS, Wife of William Curtis. HENRIETTA GARDEN, A Seamstress in Richmond. DICK JONES, A North Carolina Mountaineer. VICTOR WOODVILLE, A Young Mississippi Officer. JOHN WOODVILLE, Father of Victor Woodville. CHARLES WOODVILLE, Uncle of Victor Woodville. COLONEL BEDFORD, A Northern Officer. CHARLES GORDON, A Southern Staff Officer. JOHN LANHAM, An Editor. JUDGE KENDRICK, A Lawyer. MR. CULVER, A State Senator. MR. BRACKEN, A Tobacco Grower. ARTHUR WHITRIDGE, A State Senator. 

 HISTORICAL CHARACTERS

 ABRAHAM LINCOLN, President of the United States. JEFFERSON DAVIS, President of the Southern Confederacy. JUDAH P. BENJAMIN, Member of the Confederate Cabinet. U. S. GRANT, Northern Commander. ROBERT B. LEE, Southern Commander. STONEWALL JACKSON, Southern General. PHILIP H. SHERIDAN, Northern General. GEORGE H. THOMAS, "The Rock of Chickamauga. " ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON, Southern General. A. P. HILL, Southern General. W. S. HANCOCK, Northern General. GEORGE B. McCLELLAN, Northern General. AMBROSE B. BURNSIDE, Northern General. TURNER ASHBY, Southern Cavalry Leader. J. E. B. STUART, Southern Cavalry Leader. JOSEPH HOOKER, Northern General. RICHARD S. EWELL, Southern General. JUBAL EARLY, Southern General. WILLIAM S. ROSECRANS, Northern General. SIMON BOLIVAR BUCKNER, Southern General. LEONIDAS POLK, Southern General and Bishop. BRAXTON BRAGG, Southern General. NATHAN BEDFORD FORREST, Southern Cavalry Leader. JOHN MORGAN, Southern Cavalry Leader. GEORGE J. MEADE, Northern General. DON CARLOS BUELL, Northern General. W. T. SHERMAN, Northern General. JAMES LONGSTREET, Southern General. P. G. T. BEAUREGARD, Southern General. WILLIAM L. YANCEY, Alabama Orator. JAMES A. GARFIELD, Northern General, afterwards President of the United States. 

 And many others

 IMPORTANT BATTLES DESCRIBED IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES

 BULL RUN KERNSTOWN CROSS KEYS WINCHESTER PORT REPUBLIC THE SEVEN DAYS MILL SPRING FORT DONELSON SHILOH PERRYVILLE STONE RIVER THE SECOND MANASSAS ANTIETAM FREDERICKSBURG CHANCELLORSVILLE GETTYSBURG CHAMPION HILL VICKSBURG CHICKAMAUGA MISSIONARY RIDGE THE WILDERNESS SPOTTSYLVANIA COLD HARBOR FISHER'S HILL CEDAR CREEK APPOMATTOX

CONTENTS

 I. IN FLIGHT

 II. THE MOUNTAIN LIGHTS

 III. THE TELEGRAPH STATION

 IV. THE FIGHT IN THE PASS

 V. THE SINGER OF THE HILLS

 VI. MILL SPRING

 VII. THE MESSENGER

 VIII. A MEETING AT NIGHT

 IX. TAKING A FORT

 X. BEFORE DONELSON

 XI. THE SOUTHERN ATTACK

 XII. GRANT'S GREAT VICTORY

 XIII. IN THE FOREST

 XIV. THE DARK EVE OF SHILOH

 XV. THE RED DAWN OF SHILOH

 XVI. THE FIERCE FINISH OF SHILOH

THE GUNS OF SHILOH

CHAPTER I. IN FLIGHT

Dick Mason, caught in the press of a beaten army, fell back slowly withhis comrades toward a ford of Bull Run. The first great battle of theCivil War had been fought and lost. Lost, after it had been won! Youngas he was Dick knew that fortune had been with the North until the veryclosing hour. He did not yet know how it had been done. He did not knowhow the Northern charges had broken in vain on the ranks of StonewallJackson's men. He did not know how the fresh Southern troops from theValley of Virginia had hurled themselves so fiercely on the Union flank. But he did know that his army had been defeated and was retreating onthe capital. 

Cannon still thundered to right and left, and now and then showers ofbursting shell sprayed over the heads of the tired and gloomy soldiers. Dick, thoughtful and scholarly, was in the depths of a bitterness anddespair reached by few of those around him. The Union, the Republic, hadappealed to him as the most glorious of experiments. He could not bearto see it broken up for any cause whatever. It had been founded withtoo much blood and suffering and labor to be dissolved in a day on aVirginia battlefield. 

But the army that had almost grasped victory was retreating, and thecamp followers, the spectators who had come out to see an easy triumph, and some of the raw recruits were running. A youth near Dick cried thatthe rebels fifty thousand strong with a hundred guns were hot upon theirheels. A short, powerful man, with a voice like the roar of thunder, bade him hush or he would feel a rifle barrel across his back. Dickhad noticed this man, a sergeant named Whitley, who had shown singularcourage and coolness throughout the battle, and he crowded closer to himfor companionship. The man observed the action and looked at him withblue eyes that twinkled out of a face almost black with the sun. 

"Don't take it so hard, my boy, " he said. "This battle's lost, but thereare others that won't be. Most of the men were raw, but they did somemighty good fightin', while the regulars an' the cavalry are coverin'the retreat. Beauregard's army is not goin' to sweep us off the face ofthe earth. "

His words brought cheer to Dick, but it lasted only a moment. He was tosee many dark days, but this perhaps was the darkest of his life. Hisheart beat painfully and his face was a brown mask of mingled dust, sweat, and burned gunpowder. The thunder of the Southern cannon behindthem filled him with humiliation. Every bone in him ached after suchfierce exertion, and his eyes were dim with the flare of cannon andrifles and the rolling clouds of dust. He was scarcely conscious thatthe thick and powerful sergeant had moved up by his side and had put ahelping hand under his arm. 

"Here we are at the ford!" cried Whitley. "Into it, my lad! Ah, how goodthe water feels!"

Dick, despite those warning guns behind him, would have remained a whilein Bull Run, luxuriating in the stream, but the crowd of his comradeswas pressing hard upon him, and he only had time to thrust his face intothe water and to pour it over his neck, arms, and shoulders. But he wasrefreshed greatly. Some of the heat went out of his body, and his eyesand head ached less. 

The retreat continued across the rolling hills. Dick saw everywhere armsand supplies thrown away by the fringe of a beaten army, the men in therear who saw and who spread the reports of panic and terror. But theregiments were forming again into a cohesive force, and behind themthe regulars and cavalry in firm array still challenged pursuit. Heavyfiring was heard again under the horizon and word came that the Southerncavalry had captured guns and wagons, but the main division maintainedits slow retreat toward Washington. 

Now the cool shadows were coming. The sun, which had shown as red asblood over the field that day, was sinking behind the hills. Its fieryrays ceased to burn the faces of the men. A soft healing breeze stirredthe leaves and grass. The river of Bull Run and the field of Manassaswere gone from sight, and the echo of the last cannon shot died solemnlyon the Southern horizon. An hour later the brigade stopped in the wood, and the exhausted men threw themselves upon the ground. They were sotired that their bodies were in pain as if pricked with needles. Thechagrin and disgrace of defeat were forgotten for the time in theoverpowering desire for rest. 

Dick had enlisted as a common soldier. There was no burden ofmaintaining order upon him, and he threw himself upon the ground by theside of his new friend, Sergeant Whitley. His breath came at first ingasps, but presently he felt better and sat up. 

It was now full night, thrice blessed to them all, with the heat anddust gone and no enemy near. The young recruits had recovered theircourage. The terrible scenes of the battle were hid from their eyes, andthe cannon no longer menaced on the horizon. The sweet, soothing windblew gently over the hills among which they lay, and the leaves rustledpeacefully. 

Fires were lighted, wagons with supplies arrived, and the men beganto cook food, while the surgeons moved here and there, binding up thewounds of the hurt. The pleasant odors of coffee and frying meat arose. Sergeant Whitley stood up and by the moonlight and the fires scanned thecountry about them with discerning eye. Dick looked at him with renewedinterest. He was a man of middle years, but with all the strength andelasticity of youth. Despite his thick coat of tan he was naturallyfair, and Dick noticed that his hands were the largest that he had everseen on any human being. They seemed to the boy to have in them thepower to strangle a bear. But the man was singularly mild and gentle inhis manner. 

"We're about half way to Washington, I judge, " he said, "an' I expect alot of our camp followers and grass-green men are all the way thereby now, tellin' Abe Lincoln an' everybody else that a hundred thousandrebels fell hard upon us on the plain of Manassas. "

He laughed deep down in his throat and Dick again drew courage andcheerfulness from one who had such a great store of both. 

"How did it happen? Our defeat, I mean, " asked Dick. "I thought almostto the very last moment that we had the victory won. "

"Their reserves came an' ours didn't. But the boys did well. Lots worsethan this will happen to us, an' we'll live to overcome it. I've beenthrough a heap of hardships in my life, Dick, but I always remember thatsomebody else has been through worse. Let's go down the hill. The boyshave found a branch an' are washin' up. "

By "branch" he meant a brook, and Dick went with him gladly. Theyfound a fine, clear stream, several feet broad and a foot deep, flowingswiftly between the slopes, and probably emptying miles further on intoBull Run. Already it was lined by hundreds of soldiers, mostly boys, who were bathing freely in its cool waters. Dick and the sergeant joinedthem and with the sparkle of the current fresh life and vigor flowedinto their veins. 

An officer took command, and when they had bathed their faces, necks, and arms abundantly they were allowed to take off their shoes and socksand put their bruised and aching feet in the stream. 

"It seems to me, sergeant, that this is pretty near to Heaven, " saidDick as he sat on the bank and let the water swish around his ankles. 

"It's mighty good. There's no denyin' it, but we'll move still a stepnearer to Heaven, when we get our share of that beef an' coffee, whichI now smell most appetizin'. Hard work gives a fellow a ragin' appetite, an' I reckon fightin' is the hardest of all work. When I was a lumbermanin Wisconsin I thought nothin' could beat that, but I admit now that abig battle is more exhaustin'. "

"You've worked in the timber then?"

"From the time I was twelve years old 'til three or four years ago. IfI do say it myself, there wasn't a man in all Wisconsin, or Michiganeither, who could swing an axe harder or longer than I could. I guessyou've noticed these hands of mine. "

He held them up, and they impressed Dick more than ever. They were greatmasses of bone and muscle fit for a giant. 

"Paws, the boys used to call 'em, " resumed Whitley with a pleased laugh. "I inherited big hands. Father had em an' mother had 'em, too. So minewere wonders when I was a boy, an' when you add to that years an' yearswith the axe, an' with liftin' an' rollin' big logs I've got what Ireckon is the strongest pair of hands in the United States. I can pull ahorseshoe apart any time. Mighty useful they are, too, as I'm likely toshow you often. "

The chance came very soon. A frightened horse, probably with the memoryof the battle still lodged somewhere in his animal brain, broke histether and came charging among the troops. Whitley made one leap, seizedhim by the bit in his mighty grasp and hurled him back on his haunches, where he held him until fear was gone from him. 

"It was partly strength and partly sleight of hand, a trick that Ilearned in the cavalry, " he said to Dick as they put on their shoes. "I got tired of lumberin' an' I wandered out west, where I served threeyears on horseback in the regular army, fightin' the Indians. Goodfighters they are, too. Mighty hard to put your hand on 'em. Now they'rethere an' now they ain't. Now you see 'em before you, an' then they'rebehind you aimin' a tomahawk at your head. They taught us a big lotthat I guess we can use in this war. Come on, Dick, I guess them banquethalls are spread, an' I know we're ready. "

Not much order was preserved in the beaten brigade, which had becomeseparated from the rest of the retreating army, but the spirits of allwere rising and that, so Sergeant Whitley told Dick, was better just nowthan technical discipline. The Northern army had gone to Bull Run withample supplies, and now they lacked for nothing. They ate long and well, and drank great quantities of coffee. Then they put out the fires andresumed the march toward Washington. 

They stopped again an hour or two after midnight and slept untilmorning. Dick lay on the bare ground under the boughs of a great oaktree. It was a quarter of an hour before sleep came, because his nervoussystem had received a tremendous wrench that day. He closed his eyesand the battle passed again before them. He remembered, too, a lightningglimpse of a face, that of his cousin, Harry Kenton, seen but an instantand then gone. He tried to decide whether it was fancy or reality, and, while he was trying, he fell asleep and slept as one dead. 

Dick was awakened early in the morning by Sergeant Whitley, who was nowwatching over him like an elder brother. The sun already rode high andthere was a great stir and movement, as the brigade was forming for itscontinued retreat on the capital. The boy's body was at first stiffand sore, but the elasticity of youth returned fast, and after a briefbreakfast he was fully restored. 

Another hot day had dawned, but Dick reflected grimly that however hotit might be it could not be as hot as the day before had been. Scouts inthe night had brought back reports that the Southern troops were on thenorthern side of Bull Run, but not in great force, and a second battlewas no longer feared. The flight could be continued without interruptionover the hot Virginia fields. 

Much of Dick's depression returned as they advanced under the blazingsun, but Whitley, who seemed insensible to either fatigue or gloom, sooncheered him up again. 

"They talk about the Southerners comin' on an' takin' Washington, " hesaid, "but don't you believe it. They haven't got the forces, an' whilethey won the victory I guess they're about as tired as we are. Our boystalk about a hundred thousand rebels jumpin' on 'em, an' some felt as ifthey was a million, but they weren't any more than we was, maybe notas many, an' when they are all stove up themselves how can they attackWashington in its fortifications! Don't be so troubled, boy. The Unionain't smashed up yet. Just recollect whenever it's dark that light'sbound to come later on. What do you say to that, Long Legs?"

He spoke to a very tall and very thin youth who marched about a halfdozen feet away from them. The boy, who seemed to be about eighteenyears of age, turned to them a face which was pale despite theVirginia sun. But it was the pallor of indoor life, not of fear, as thecountenance was good and strong, long, narrow, the chin pointed, thenose large and bridged like that of an old Roman, the eyes full blueand slightly nearsighted. But there was a faint twinkle in those samenearsighted eyes as he replied in precise tones:

"According to all the experience of centuries and all the mathematicalformulae that can be deduced therefrom night is bound to be followedby day. We have been whipped by the rebels, but it follows witharithmetical certainty that if we keep on fighting long enough we willwhip them in time. Let x equal time and y equal opportunity. Then whenx and y come together we shall have x plus y which will equal success. Does my logic seem cogent to you, Mr. Big Shoulders and Big Hands?"

Whitley stared at him in amazement and admiration. 

"I haven't heard so many big words in a long time, " he said, "an' then, too, you bring 'em out so nice an' smooth, marchin' in place as regularas a drilled troop. "

"I've been drilled too, " said the tall boy, smiling. "My name is GeorgeWarner, and I come from Vermont. I began teaching a district school whenI was sixteen years old, and I would be teaching now, if it were not forthe war. My specialty is mathematics. X equals the war, y equals me andx plus y equals me in the war. "

"Your name is Warner and you are from Vermont, " said Dick eagerly. "Why, there was a Warner who struck hard for independence at Bennington in theRevolution. "

"That's my family, " replied the youth proudly. "Seth Warner delivereda mighty blow that helped to form this Union, and although I don't knowmuch except to teach school I'm going to put in a little one to helpsave it. X equalled the occasion, y equalled my willingness to meet it, and x plus y have brought me here. "

Dick told who he and Whitley were, and he felt at once that he and thislong and mathematical Vermont lad were going to be friends. Whitley alsocontinued to look upon Warner with much favor. 

"I respect anybody who can talk in mathematics as you do, " he said. "Nowwith me I never know what x equals an' I never know what y equals, soif I was to get x an' y together they might land me about ten thousandmiles from where I wanted to be. But a fellow can bend too much overbooks. That's what's the matter with them eyes of yours, which I noticealways have to take two looks where I take only one. "

"You are undoubtedly right, " replied Warner. "My relatives told me thatI needed some fresh air, and I am taking it, although the process isattended with certain risks from bullets, swords, bayonets, cannonballs, and shells. Still, I have made a very close mathematicalcalculation. At home there is the chance of disease as well as here. Athome you may fall from a cliff, you may be drowned in a creek or riverwhile bathing, a tree may fall on you, a horse may throw you and breakyour neck, or you may be caught in a winter storm and freeze to death. But even if none of these things happens to you, you will die some dayanyhow. Now, my figures show me that the chance of death here in the waris only twenty-five per cent greater than it was at home, but physicalactivity and an open air continuously increase my life chancesthirty-five per cent. So, I make a net life gain of ten per cent. "

Whitley put his hand upon Warner's shoulder. 

"Boy, " he said, "you're wonderful. I can cheer up the lads by talkin'of the good things to come, but you can prove by arithmetic, algebra an'every other kind of mathematics that they're bound to come. You're goin'to be worth a lot wherever you are. "

"Thanks for your encomiums. In any event we are gaining valuableexperience. Back there on the field of Bull Run I was able todemonstrate by my own hearing and imagination that a hundred thousandrebels could fire a million bullets a minute; that every one of thosemillion bullets filled with a mortal spite against me was seeking my ownparticular person. "

Whitley gazed at him again with admiration. 

"You've certainly got a wonderful fine big bag of words, " he said, "an'whenever you need any you just reach in an' take out a few a foot longor so. But I reckon a lot of others felt the way you did, though theywon't admit it now. Look, we're nearly to Washington now. See the domeof the Capitol over the trees there, an' I can catch glimpses of roofstoo. "

Dick and George also saw the capital, and cheered by the sight, theymarched at a swifter gait. Soon they turned into the main road, wherethe bulk of the army had already passed and saw swarms of stragglersahead of them. Journalists and public men met them, and Dick now learnedhow the truth about Bull Run had come to the capital. The news of defeathad been the more bitter, because already they had been rejoicing thereover success. As late as five o'clock in the afternoon the telegraph hadinformed Washington of victory. Then, after a long wait, had come thebitter despatch telling of defeat, and flying fugitives arriving in thenight had exaggerated it tenfold. 

The division to which Dick, Warner, and Whitley belonged marched overthe Long Bridge and camped near the capital where they would remainuntil sent on further service. Dick now saw that the capital was in nodanger. Troops were pouring into it by every train from the north andwest. All they needed was leadership and discipline. Bull Run had stung, but it did not daunt them and they asked to be led again against theenemy. They heard that Lincoln had received the news of the defeat withgreat calmness, and that he had spent most of a night in his officelistening to the personal narratives of public men who had gone forth tosee the battle, and who at its conclusion had left with great speed. 

"Lots of people have laughed at Abe Lincoln an' have called him only arail-splitter, " said Whitley, "but I heard him two or three times, whenhe was campaignin' in Illinois, an' I tell you he's a man. "

"He was born in my state, " said Dick, "and I mean to be proud of him. He'll have support, too. Look how the country is standing by him!"

More than once in the succeeding days Dick Mason's heart thrilled atthe mighty response that came to the defeat of Bull Run. The stream ofrecruits pouring into the capital never ceased. He now saw men, and manyboys, too, like himself, from every state north of the Ohio Riverand from some south of it. Dan Whitley met old logging friends fromWisconsin whom he had not seen in years, and George Warner saw twopupils of his as old as himself. 

Dick had inherited a sensitive temperament, one that responded quicklyand truthfully to the events occurring about him, and he foresaw thebeginning of a mighty struggle. Here in the capital, resolution washardening into a fight to the finish, and he knew from his relativeswhen he left Kentucky that the South was equally determined. There wasan apparent pause in hostilities, but he felt that the two sections weremerely gathering their forces for a mightier conflict. 

His comrades and he had little to do, and they had frequent leaves ofabsence. On one of them they saw a man of imposing appearance pass downPennsylvania Avenue. He would have caught the attention of anybody, owing to his great height and splendid head crowned with snow-whitehair. He was old, but he walked as if he were one who had achievedgreatly, and was conscious of it. 

"It's Old Fuss and Feathers his very self, " said Whitley. 

"General Scott. It can be no other, " said Dick, who had divined at oncethe man's identity. His eyes followed the retreating figure with thegreatest interest. This was the young hero of the War of 1812 and thegreat commander who had carried the brilliant campaign into the capitalof Mexico. He had been the first commander-in-chief of the Northernarmy, and, foreseeing the great scale of the coming war, had prepareda wide and cautious plan. But the public had sneered at him and haddemanded instant action, the defeat at Bull Run being the result. 

Dick felt pity for the man who was forced to bear a blame not his own, and who was too old for another chance. But he knew that the presentcloud would soon pass away, and that he would be remembered as the manof Chippewa and Chapultepec. 

"McClellan is already here to take his place, " said Whitley. "He'sthe young fellow who has been winning successes in the western part ofVirginia, an' they say he has genius. "

Only a day or two later they saw McClellan walking down the same avenuewith the President. Dick had never beheld a more striking contrast. ThePresident was elderly, of great height, his head surmounted by a highsilk hat which made him look yet taller, while his face was long, melancholy, and wrinkled deeply. His collar had wilted with the heat andthe tails of his long black coat flapped about his legs. 

The general was clothed in a brilliant uniform. He was short and stockyand his head scarcely passed the President's shoulder. He was redolentof youth and self confidence. It showed in his quick, eager gestures andhis emphatic manner. He attracted the two boys, but the sergeant shookhis head somewhat solemnly. 

"They say Scott was too old, " he said, "and now they've gone to theother end of it. McClellan's too young to handle the great armies thatare going into the field. I'm afraid he won't be a match for them oldveterans like Johnston and Lee. "

"Napoleon became famous all over the world when he was only twenty-six, "said Warner. 

"That's so, " retorted Whitley, "but I never heard of any other Napoleon. The breed began and quit with him. "

But the soldiers crowding the capital had full confidence in "LittleMac, " as they had already begun to call him. Those off duty followed andcheered him and the President, until they entered the White House anddisappeared within its doors. Dick and his friends were in the crowdthat followed, although they did not join in the cheers, not becausethey lacked faith, but because all three were thoughtful. Dick hadsoon discovered that Whitley, despite his lack of education, was anexceedingly observant man, with a clear and reasoning mind. 

"It was a pair worth seeing, " said the sergeant, as they turned away, "but I looked a lot more at Old Abe than I did at 'Little Mac. ' Did youever think, boys, what it is to have a big war on your hands, with allsorts of men tellin' you all sorts of things an' tryin' to pull you inall sorts of directions?"

"I had not thought of it before, but I will think of it now, " saidWarner. "In any event, we are quite sure that the President has a greattask before him. We hear that the South will soon have a quarter of amillion troops in the field. Her position on the defensive is perhapsworth as many more men to her. Hence let x equal her troops, let y equalher defensive, and we have x plus y, which is equal to half a millionmen, the number we must have before we can meet the South on equalterms. "

"An' to conquer her completely we'll need nigh on to a million. " saidthe sergeant. 

Shrewd and penetrating as was Sergeant Whitley he did not dream thatbefore the giant struggle was over the South would have tripled herdefensive quarter of a million and the North would almost have tripledher invading million. 

A few days later their regiment marched out of the capital and joinedthe forces on the hills around Arlington, where they lay for many days, impatient but inactive. There was much movement in the west, and theyheard of small battles in which victory and defeat were about equal. The boys had shown so much zeal and ability in learning soldierly dutiesthat they were made orderlies by their colonel, John Newcomb, a taciturnPennsylvanian, a rich miner who had raised a regiment partly at hisown expense, and who showed a great zeal for the Union. He, too, waslearning how to be a soldier and he was not above asking advice now andthen of a certain Sergeant Whitley who had the judgment to give it inthe manner befitting one of his lowly rank. 

The summer days passed slowly on. The heat was intense. The Virginiahills and plains fairly shimmered under the burning rays of the sun. Butstill they delayed. Congress had shown the greatest courage, meeting onthe very day that the news of Bull Run had come, and resolving tofight the war to a successful end, no matter what happened. But whileMcClellan was drilling and preparing, the public again began to call foraction. "On to Richmond!" was the cry, but despite it the army did notyet move. 

European newspapers came in, and almost without exception they sneeredat the Northern troops, and predicted the early dissolution of theUnion. Monarchy and privileged classes everywhere rejoiced at thedisaster threatening the great republic, and now that it was safe to doso, did not hesitate to show their delight. Sensitive and proud of hiscountry, Dick was cut to the quick, but Warner was more phlegmatic. 

"Let 'em bark, " he said. "They bark because they dislike us, and theydislike us because they fear us. We threatened Privilege when ourRevolution succeeded and the Republic was established. The fact of ourexistence was the threat and the threat has increased with our yearsand growth. Europe is for the South, but the reason for it is one of thesimplest problems in mathematics. Ten per cent of it is admirationfor the Southern victory at Bull Run, and ninety per cent of it ishatred--at least by their ruling classes--of republican institutions, and a wish to see them fall here. "

"I suspect you're right, " said Dick, "and we'll have to try all theharder to keep them from being a failure. Look, there goes our balloon!"

Every day, usually late in the afternoon, a captive balloon rose fromthe Northern camp, and officers with powerful glasses inspected theSouthern position, watching for an advance or a new movement of anykind. 

"I'm going up in it some day, " said Dick, confidently. "Colonel Newcombhas promised me that he will take me with him when his turn for theascension comes. "

The chance was a week in coming, a tremendously long time it seemedto Dick, but it came at last. He climbed into the basket with ColonelNewcomb, two generals, and the aeronauts and sat very quiet in a corner. He felt an extraordinary thrill when the ropes were allowed to slide andthe balloon was slowly going almost straight upward. The sensation wassomewhat similar to that which shook him when he went into battle atBull Run, but pride came to his rescue and he soon forgot the physicaltremor to watch the world that now rolled beneath them, a world thatthey seemed to have left, although the ropes always held. 

Dick's gaze instinctively turned southward, where he knew theConfederate army lay. A vast and beautiful panorama spread in asemi-circle before him. The green of summer, the green that had beenstained so fearfully at Bull Run, was gone. The grass was now brown fromthe great heats and the promise of autumn soon to come, but--from theheight at least--it was a soft and mellow brown, and the dust was gone. 

The hills rolled far away southward, and under the horizon's rim. Narrowribbons of silver here and there were the numerous brooks and creeksthat cut the country. Groves, still heavy and dark with foliage, hungon the hills, or filled some valley, like green in a bowl. Now and then, among clumps of trees, colonial houses with their pillared porticoesappeared. 

It was a rare and beautiful scene, appealing with great force to Dick. There was nothing to tell of war save the Northern forces just beneaththem, and he would not look down. But he did look back, and saw thebroad band of the Potomac, and beyond it the white dome of the Capitoland the roof of Washington. But his gaze turned again to the South, where his absorbing interest lay, and once more he viewed the quietcountry, rolling away until it touched the horizon rim. The afternoonwas growing late, and great terraces of red and gold were heaping aboveone another in the sky until they reached the zenith. 

"Try the glasses for a moment, Dick, " said Colonel Newcomb, as he passedthem to the boy. 

Dick swept them across the South in a great semi-circle, and now newobjects rose upon the surface of the earth. He saw distinctly thelong chain of the Blue Ridge rising on the west, then blurring in thedistance into a solid black rampart. In the south he saw a long curvingline of rising blue plumes. It did not need Colonel Newcomb to tell himthat these were the campfires of the army that they had met on thefield of Bull Run, and that the Southern troops were now cooking theirsuppers. 

No doubt his cousin Harry was there and perhaps others whom he knew. The fires seemed to Dick a defiance to the Union. Well, in view of theirvictory, the defiance was justified, and those fires might come neareryet. Dick, catching the tone of older men who shared his views, had notbelieved at first that the rebellion would last long, but his opinionwas changing fast, and the talk of wise Sergeant Whitley was helpingmuch in that change. 

While he yet looked through the glasses he saw a plume of white smokecoming swiftly towards the Southern fires. Then he remembered the twolines of railroad that met on the battlefield, giving it its othername, Manassas Junction, and he knew that the smoke came from an enginepulling cars loaded with supplies for their foes. 

He whispered of the train as he handed the glasses back to ColonelNewcomb, and then the colonel and the generals alike made a longexamination. 

"Beauregard will certainly have an abundance of supplies, " said one ofthe generals. "I hear that arms and provisions are coming by every trainfrom the South, and meanwhile we are making no advance. "

"We can't advance yet, " said the other general emphatically. "McClellanis right in making elaborate preparations and long drills before movingupon the enemy. It was inexperience, and not want of courage, that beatus at Bull Run. "

"The Southerners had the same inexperience. "

"But they had the defensive. I hear that Tom Jackson saved them, andthat they have given him the name Stonewall, because he stood so firm. I was at West Point with him. An odd, awkward fellow, but one of thehardest students I have ever known. The boys laughed at him when hefirst came, but they soon stopped. He had a funny way of studying, standing up with his book on a shelf, instead of sitting down at a desk. Said his brain moved better that way. I've heard that he walked part ofthe way from Virginia to reach West Point. I hear now, too, that he isvery religious, and always intends to pray before going into battle. "

"That's a bad sign--for us, " said the other general. "It's easy enoughto sneer at praying men, but just you remember Cromwell. I'm a littleshaky on my history, but I've an impression that when Cromwell, theIronsides, old Praise-God-Barebones, and the rest knelt, said a fewwords to their God, sang a little and advanced with their pikes, theywent wherever they intended to go and that Prince Rupert and all theCavaliers could not stop them. "

"It is so, " said the other gravely. "A man who believes thoroughly inhis God, who is not afraid to die, who, in fact, rather favors dying onthe field, is an awful foe to meet in battle. "

"We may have some of the same on our side, " said Colonel Newcomb. "Wehave at least a great Puritan population from which to draw. "

One of the generals gave the signal and the balloon was slowly pulleddown. Dick, grateful for his experience, thanked Colonel Newcomb andrejoined his comrades. 

CHAPTER II. THE MOUNTAIN LIGHTS

When Dick left the balloon it was nearly night. Hundreds of campfireslighted up the hills about him, but beyond their circle the darknessenclosed everything. He still felt the sensations of one who had been ata great height and who had seen afar. That rim of Southern campfires wasyet in his mind, and he wondered why the Northern commander allowedthem to remain week after week so near the capital. He was fully aware, because it was common talk, that the army of the Union had now reachedgreat numbers, with a magnificent equipment, and, with four to one, should be able to drive the Southern force away. Yet McClellan delayed. 

Dick obtained a short leave of absence, and walked to a campfire, wherehe knew he would find his friend, George Warner. Sergeant Whitley wasthere, too, showing some young recruits how to cook without waste, andthe two gave the boy a welcome that was both inquisitive and hearty. 

"You've been up in the balloon, " said Warner. "It was a rare chance. "

"Yes, " replied Dick with a laugh, "I left the world, and it is the onlyway in which I wish to leave it for the next sixty or seventy years. Itwas a wonderful sight, George, and not the least wonderful thing in itwas the campfires of the Southern army, burning down there towards BullRun. "

"Burnin' where they ought not to be, " said Whitley--no gulf was yetestablished between commissioned and non-commissioned officers in eitherarmy. "Little Mac may be a great organizer, as they say, but you cankeep on organizin' an' organizin', until it's too late to do what youwant to do. "

"It's a sound principle that you lay down, Mr. Whitley, " said Warnerin his precise tones. "In fact, it may be reduced to a mathematicalformula. Delay is always a minus quantity which may be represented byy. Achievement is represented by x, and, consequently, when you haveachievement hampered by delay you have x minus y, which is an extremelydoubtful quantity, often amounting to failure. "

"I travel another road in my reckonin's, " said Whitley, "I don't knowanything about x and y, but I guess you an' me, George, come to the sameplace. It's been a full six weeks since Bull Run, an' we haven't done athing. "

Whitley, despite their difference in rank, could not yet keep fromaddressing the boys by their first names. But they took it as a matterof course, in view of the fact that he was so much older than they andvastly their superior in military knowledge. 

"Dick, " continued the sergeant, "what was it you was sayin' about acousin of yours from the same town in Kentucky bein' out there in theSouthern army?"

"He's certainly there, " replied Dick, "if he wasn't killed in thebattle, which I feel couldn't have happened to a fellow like Harry. We're from the same little town in Kentucky, Pendleton. He's descendedstraight from one of the greatest Indian fighters, borderers and heroesthe country down there ever knew, Henry Ware, who afterwards became oneof the early governors of the State. And I'm descended from Henry Ware'sfamous friend, Paul Cotter, who, in his time, was the greatest scholarin all the West. Henry Ware and Paul Cotter were like the old Greekfriends, Damon and Pythias. Harry and I are proud to have their blood inour veins. Besides being cousins, there are other things to make Harryand me think a lot of each other. Oh, he's a grand fellow, even if he ison the wrong side!"

Dick's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he spoke of the cousin andcomrade of his childhood. 

"The chances of war bring about strange situations, or at least I haveheard so, " said Warner. "Now, Dick, if you were to meet your cousin faceto face on the battlefield with a loaded gun in your hand what would youdo?"

"I'd raise that gun, take deliberate aim at a square foot of air aboutthirty feet over his head and pull the trigger. "

"But your duty to your country tells you to do otherwise. Before you isa foe trying to destroy the Union. You have come out armed to save thatUnion, consequently you must fire straight at him and not at the air, inorder to reduce the number of our enemies. "

"One enemy where there are so many would not count for anything in thetotal. Your arithmetic will show you that Harry's percentage in theSouthern army is so small that it reaches the vanishing point. If I canborrow from you, George, x equals Harry's percentage, which is nothing, y equals the value of my hypothetical opportunity, which is nothing, then x plus y equals nothing, which represents the whole affair, whichis nothing, that is, worth nothing to the Union. Hence I have no moreobligation to shoot Harry if I meet him than he has to shoot me. "

"Well spoken, Dick, " said Sergeant Whitley. "Some people, I reckon, can take duty too hard. If you have one duty an' another an' bigger onecomes along right to the same place you ought to 'tend to the biggerone. I'd never shoot anybody that was a heap to me just because he wasone of three or four hundred thousand who was on the other side. I'venever thought much of that old Roman father--I forget his name--who hadhis son executed just because he wasn't doin' exactly right. Therewas never a rule that oughtn't to have exceptions under extraordinarycircumstances. "

"If you can establish the principle of exceptions, " replied the youngVermonter very gravely, "I will allow Dick to shoot in the air when hemeets his cousin in the height of battle, but it is a difficult task toestablish it, and if it fails Dick, according to all rules of logic andduty, must shoot straight at his cousin's heart. "

The other two looked at Warner and saw his left eyelid droop slightly. Afaint twinkle appeared in either eye and then they laughed. 

"I reckon that Dick shoots high in the air, " said the sergeant. 

Dick, after a pleasant hour with his friends, went back to ColonelNewcomb's quarters, where he spent the entire evening writing despatchesat dictation. He was hopeful that all this writing portended something, but more days passed, and despite the impatience of both army andpublic, there was no movement. Stories of confused and uncertainfighting still came out of the west, but between Washington and Bull Runthere was perfect peace. 

The summer passed. Autumn came and deepened. The air was crisp andsparkling. The leaves, turned into glowing reds and yellows and browns, began to fall from the trees. The advancing autumn contained the promiseof winter soon to come. The leaves fell faster and sharp winds blew, bringing with them chill rains. Little Mac, or the Young Napoleon, asmany of his friends loved to call him, continued his preparations, anddespite all the urgings of President and Congress, would not move. Hisfatal defect now showed in all its destructiveness. To him the enemyalways appeared threefold his natural size. 

Reliable scouts brought back the news that the Southern troops atManassas, a full two months after their victory there, numbered onlyforty thousand. The Northern commander issued statements that the enemywas before him with one hundred and fifty thousand soldiers. He demandedthat his own forces should be raised to nearly a quarter of a millionmen and nearly five hundred cannon before he could move. 

The veteran, Scott, full of triumphs and honors, but feeling himself outof place in his old age, went into retirement. McClellan, now in solecommand, still lingered and delayed, while the South, making good use ofprecious months, gathered all her forces to meet him or whomsoever cameagainst her. 

Youth chafed most against the long waiting. It seemed to Dick and hismathematical Vermont friend that time was fairly wasting away undertheir feet, and the wise sergeant agreed with them. 

The weather had grown so cold now that they built fires for warmth aswell as cooking, and the two youths sat with Sergeant Whitley one coldevening in late October before a big blaze. Both were tanned deeply bywind, sun and rain, and they had grown uncommonly hardy, but the windthat night came out of the northwest, and it had such a sharp edge toit that they were glad to draw their blankets over their backs andshoulders. 

Dick was re-reading a letter from his mother, a widow who lived on theoutskirts of Pendleton. It had come that morning, and it was the onlyone that had reached him since his departure from Kentucky. But she hadreceived another that he had written to her directly after the Battle ofBull Run. 

She wrote of her gratitude because Providence had watched over him inthat dreadful conflict, all the more dreadful because it was friendagainst friend, brother against brother. The state, she said, was all inconfusion. Everybody suspected everybody else. The Southerners were fullof victory, the Northerners were hopeful of victory yet to come. ColonelKenton was with the Southern force under General Buckner, gathered atBowling Green in that state, but his son, her nephew Harry, was still inthe east with Beauregard. She had heard that the troops of the west andnorthwest were coming down the Ohio and Mississippi in great numbers, and people expected hard fighting to occur very soon in western andsouthern Kentucky. It was all very dreadful, and a madness seemed tohave come over the land, but she hoped that Providence would continue towatch over her dear son. 

Warner and the sergeant knew that the letter was from Dick's mother, but they had too much delicacy to ask him questions. The boy folded thesheets carefully and returned them to their place in the inside pocketof his coat. Then he looked for a while thoughtfully into the blaze andthe great bed of coals that had formed beneath. As far as one could seeto right and left like fires burned, but the night remained dark withpromise of rain, and the chill wind out of the northwest increased invigor. The words just read for the fifth time had sunk deep in his mind, and he was feeling the call of the west. 

"My mother writes, " he said to his comrades, "that the Confederategeneral, Buckner, whom I know, is gathering a large force around BowlingGreen in the southern part of our state, and that fighting is sure tooccur soon between that town and the Mississippi. An officer named Granthas come down from Illinois, and he is said to be pushing the Uniontroops forward with a lot of vigor. Sergeant, you are up on armyaffairs. Do you know this man Grant?"

Sergeant Whitley shook his head. 

"Never heard of him, " he replied. "Like as not he's one of the officerswho resigned from the army after the Mexican War. There was so little todo then, and so little chance of promotion, that a lot of them quit togo into business. I suppose they'll all be coming back now. "

"I want to go out there, " said Dick. "It's my country, and thewesterners at least are acting. But look at our army here! Bull Run wasfought the middle of summer. Now it's nearly winter, and nothing hasbeen done. We don't get out of sight of Washington. If I can get myselfsent west I'm going. "

"And I'm going with you, " said Warner. 

"Me, too, " said the sergeant. 

"I know that Colonel Newcomb's eyes are turning in that direction, "continued Dick. "He's a war-horse, he is, and he'd like to get into thethick of it. "

"You're his favorite aide, " said the calculating young Vermonter. "Can'tyou sow those western seeds in his mind and keep on sowing them? Thefact that you are from this western battle ground will give more weightto what you say. You do this, and I'll wager that within a week theColonel will induce the President to send the whole regiment to theMississippi. "

"Can you reduce your prediction to a mathematical certainty?" askedDick, a twinkle appearing in his eye. 

"No, I can't do that, " replied Warner, with an answering twinkle, "but you're the very fellow to influence Colonel Newcomb's mind. I'ma mathematician and I work with facts, but you have the glowingimagination that conduces to the creation of facts. "

"Big words! Grand words!" said the sergeant. 

"Never let Colonel Newcomb forget the west, " continued Warner, notnoticing the interruption. "Keep it before him all the time. Hintthat there can be no success along the Mississippi without him and hisregiment. "

"I'll do what I can, " promised Dick faithfully, and he did much. ColonelNewcomb had already formed a strong attachment for this zealous andvaluable young aide, and he did not forget the words that Dick said onevery convenient occasion about the west. He made urgent representationsthat he and his regiment be sent to the relief of the strugglingNorthern forces there, and he contrived also that these petitions shouldreach the President. One day the order came to go, but not to St. Louis, where Halleck, now in command, was. Instead they were to enter themountains of West Virginia and Kentucky, and help the mountaineers whowere loyal to the Union. If they accomplished that task with success, they were to proceed to the greater theatre in Western Kentucky andTennessee. It was not all they wished, but they thought it far betterthan remaining at Washington, where it seemed that the army would remainindefinitely. 

Colonel Newcomb, who was sitting in his tent bending over maps with hisstaff, summoned Dick. 

"You are a Kentuckian, my lad, " he said, "and I thought you might knowsomething about this region into which we are going. "

"Not much, sir, " replied Dick. "My home is much further west in acountry very different both in its own character and that of its people. But I have been in the mountains two or three times, and I may be ofsome help as a guide. "

"I am sure you will do your best, " said Colonel Newcomb. "By the way, that young Vermont friend of yours, Warner, is to be on my staff also, and it is very likely that you and he will go on many errands together. "

"Can't we take Sergeant Whitley with us sometimes?" asked Dick boldly. 

"So you can, " replied the colonel, laughing a little. "I've noticed thatman, and I've a faint suspicion that he knows more about war than any ofus civilian officers. "

"It's our task to learn as much as we can from these old regulars, "said a Major Hertford, a man of much intelligence and good humor, who, previous to the war, had been a lawyer in a small town. Alan Hertfordwas about twenty-five and of fine manner and appearance. 

"Well spoken, Major Hertford, " said the thoughtful miner, ColonelNewcomb. "Now, Dick, you can go, and remember that we are to start forWashington early in the morning and take a train there for the north. Itwill be the duty of Lieutenant Warner and yourself, as well as others, to see that our men are ready to the last shoe for the journey. "

Dick and Warner were so much elated that they worked all that night, and they did not hesitate to go to Sergeant Whitley for advice orinstruction. At the first spear of dawn the regiment marched away insplendid order from Arlington to Washington, where the train that was tobear them to new fields and unknown fortunes was ready. 

It was a long train of many coaches, as the regiment numbered sevenhundred men, and it also carried with it four guns, mounted on trucks. The coaches were all of primitive pattern. The soldiers were to sleep onthe seats, and their arms and supplies were heaped in the aisles. It wasa cold, drizzling day of closing autumn, and the capital looked soddenand gloomy. Cameron, the Secretary of War, came to see them off andto make the customary prediction concerning their valor and victory tocome. But he was a cold man, and he was repellent to Dick, used to morewarmth of temperament. 

Then, with a ringing of bells, a heave of the engine, a great puffing ofsmoke, and a mighty rattling of wheels, the train drew out of Washingtonand made its noisy way toward Baltimore. Dick and Warner were on thesame seat. It was only forty miles to Baltimore, but their slow trainwould be perhaps three hours in arriving. So they had ample opportunityto see the country, which they examined with the curious eyes of youth. But there was little to see. The last leaves were falling from the treesunder the early winter rain. Bare boughs and brown grass went past theirwindows and the fields were deserted. The landscape looked chill andsullen. 

Warner was less depressed than Dick. He had an even temperament basedsolidly upon mathematical calculations. He knew that while it mightbe raining today, the chances were several to one against its rainingtomorrow. 

"I've good cause to remember Baltimore, " he said. "I was with the NewEngland troops when they had the fight there on the way down to thecapital. Although we hold it, it's really a Southern city, Dick. Mostall the border cities are Southern in sympathy, and they're swarmingwith people who will send to the Southern leaders news of every movementwe make. I state, and moreover I assert it in the face of all theworld, that the knowledge of our departure from Washington is alreadyin Southern hands. By close mathematical calculation the chances are atleast ninety-five per cent in favor of my statement. "

"Very likely, " said Dick, "and we'll have that sort of thing to face allthe time when we invade the South. We've got to win this war, George, by hard fighting, and then more hard fighting, and then more and more ofthe same. "

"Guess you're right. Arithmetic shows at least one hundred per cent ofprobability in favor of your suggestion. "

Dick looked up and down the long coach packed with young troops. Besidesthe commissioned officers and the sergeants, there was not one in thecoach who was twenty-five. Most of them were nineteen or twenty, andit was the same in the other coaches. After the first depression theirspirits rose. The temper of youth showed strongly. They were eager tosee Baltimore, but the train stopped there only a few minutes, and theywere not allowed to leave the coaches. 

Then the train turned towards the west. The drizzle of rain had nowbecome a pour, and it drove so heavily that they could see but littleoutside. Food was served at noon and afterward many slept in the crampedseats. Dick, despite his stiff position, fell asleep too. By the middleof the afternoon everybody in their coach was slumbering soundly exceptSergeant Whitley, who sat by the door leading to the next car. 

All that afternoon and into the night the train rattled and moved intothe west. The beautiful rolling country was left behind, and they werenow among the mountains, whirling around precipices so sharply thatoften the sleeping boys were thrown from the seats of the coaches. Butthey were growing used to hardships. They merely climbed back again uponthe seats, and were asleep once more in half a minute. 

The rain still fell and the wind blew fiercely among the sombermountains. A second engine had been added to the train, and the speedof the train was slackened. The engineer in front stared at the slipperyrails, but he could see only a few yards. The pitchy darkness closed inahead, hiding everything, even the peaks and ridges. The heart ofthat engineer, and he was a brave man, as brave as any soldier on thebattlefield, had sunk very low. Railroads were little past their infancythen and this was the first to cross the mountains. He was by no meanscertain of his track, and, moreover, the rocks and forest might shelteran ambush. 

The Alleghanies and their outlying ridges and spurs are not loftymountains, but to this day they are wild and almost inaccessible inmany places. Nature has made them a formidable barrier, and in thegreat Civil War those who trod there had to look with all their eyes andlisten with all their ears. The engineer was not alone in his anxietythis night. Colonel Newcomb rose from an uneasy doze and he went withMajor Hertford into the engineer's cab. They were now going at the rateof not more than five or six miles an hour, the long train winding likea snake around the edges of precipices and feeling its way gingerly overthe trestles that spanned the deep valleys. All trains made a great roarand rattle then, and the long ravines gave it back in a rumbling andmenacing echo. Gusts of rain were swept now and then into the faces ofthe engineer, the firemen and the officers. 

"Do you see anything ahead, Canby?" said Colonel Newcomb to theengineer. 

"Nothing. That's the trouble, sir. If it were a clear night I shouldn'tbe worried. Then we wouldn't be likely to steam into danger with oureyes shut. This is a wild country. The mountaineers in the main are forus, but we are not far north of the Southern line, and if they know weare crossing they may undertake to raid in here. "

"And they may know it, " said the colonel. "Washington is full ofSouthern sympathizers. Stop the train, Canby, when we come to the firstopen and level space, and we'll do some scouting ahead. "

The engineer felt great relief. He was devoutly glad that the colonelwas going to take such a precaution. At that moment he, more thanColonel Newcomb, was responsible for the lives of the seven hundredhuman beings aboard the train, and his patriotism and sense ofresponsibility were both strong. 

The train, with much jolting and clanging, stopped fifteen minuteslater. Both Dick and Warner, awakened by the shock, sat up and rubbedtheir eyes. Then they left the train at once to join Colonel Newcomb, who might want them immediately. Wary Sergeant Whitley followed them insilence. 

The boys found Colonel Newcomb and the remaining members of his staffstanding near, and seeking anxiously to discover the nature of thecountry about them. The colonel nodded when they arrived, and gave theman approving glance. The two stood by, awaiting the colonel's orders, but they did not neglect to use their eyes. 

Dick saw by the engineer's lantern that they were in a valley, and helearned from his words that this valley was about three miles long witha width of perhaps half a mile. A little mountain river rushed down itscenter, and the train would cross the stream about a mile further on. It was still raining and the cold wind whistled down from the mountains. Dick could see the somber ridges showing dimly through the loom ofdarkness and rain. He was instantly aware, too, of a tense and uneasyfeeling among the officers. All of them carried glasses, but in thedarkness they could not use them. Lights began to appear in the trainand many heads were thrust out at the windows. 

"Go through the coaches, Mr. Mason and Mr. Warner, " said ColonelNewcomb, "and have every light put out immediately. Tell them, too, thatmy orders are for absolute silence. "

Dick and the Vermonter did their work rapidly, receiving many curiousinquiries, as they went from coach to coach, all of which they werehonestly unable to answer. They knew no more than the other boys aboutthe situation. But when they left the last coach and returned to theofficers near the engine, the train was in total darkness, and no soundcame from it. Colonel Newcomb again gave them an approving nod. Dicknoticed that the fires in the engine were now well covered, and that nosparks came from the smoke-stack. Standing by it he could see the longshape of the train running back in the darkness, but it would have beeninvisible to any one a hundred yards away. 

"You think we're thoroughly hidden now, Canby?" said the colonel. 

"Yes, sir. Unless they've located us precisely on advance information. I don't see how they could find us among the mountains in all thisdarkness and rain. "

"But they've had the advance information! Look there!" exclaimed MajorHertford, pointing toward the high ridge that lay on their right. 

A beam of light had appeared on the loftiest spur, standing out at firstlike a red star in the darkness, then growing intensely brighter, andburning with a steady, vivid light. The effect was weird and powerful. The mountain beneath it was invisible, and it seemed to burn there likea real eye, wrathful and menacing. The older men, as well as the boys, were held as if by a spell. It was something monstrous and eastern, likethe appearance of a genie out of the Arabian Nights. 

The light, after remaining fixed for at least a minute, began to moveslowly from side to side and then faster. 

"A signal!" exclaimed Colonel Newcomb. "Beyond a doubt it is theSoutherners. Whatever they're saying they're saying it to somebody. Looktoward the south!"

"Ah, there they are answering!" exclaimed Major Hertford. 

All had wheeled simultaneously, and on another high spur a mile to thesouth a second red light as vivid and intense as the first was flashingback and forth. It, too, the mountain below invisible, seemed to swingin the heavens. Dick, standing there in the darkness and rain, andknowing that imminent and mortal danger was on either side, felt afrightful chill creeping slowly down his spine. It is a terriblething to feel through some superior sense that an invisible foe isapproaching, and not be able to know by any kind of striving whence hecame. 

The lights flashed alternately, and presently both dropped from the sky, seeming to Dick to leave blacker spots on the darkness in their place. Then only the heavy night and the rain encompassed them. 

"What do you think it is?" asked Colonel Newcomb of Major Hertford. 

"Southern troops beyond a doubt. It is equally certain that they werewarned in some manner from Washington of our departure. "

"I think so, too. It is probable that they saw the light and have beensignalling their knowledge to each other. It seems likely to me thatthey will wait at the far end of the valley to cut us off. What force doyou think it is?"

"Perhaps a cavalry detachment that has ridden hurriedly to intercept us. I would say at a guess that it is Turner Ashby and his men. A skillfuland dangerous foe, as you know. "

Already the fame of this daring Confederate horseman was spreading overVirginia and Maryland. 

"If we are right in our guess, " said Major Hertford, "they willdismount, lead their horses along the mountain side, and shut down thetrap upon us. Doubtless they are in superior force, and know the countrymuch better than we do. If they get ahead of us and have a little timeto do it in they will certainly tear up the tracks. "

"I think you are right in all respects, " said Colonel Newcomb. "But itis obvious that we must not give them time to destroy the road ahead ofus. As for the rest, I wonder. "

He pulled uneasily at his short beard, and then he caught sight ofSergeant Whitley standing silently, arms folded, by the side of theengine. Newcomb, the miner colonel, was a man of big and open mind. A successful business man, he had the qualities which made him a goodgeneral by the time the war was in its third year. He knew Whitley andhe knew, too, that he was an old army regular, bristling with experienceand shrewdness. 

"Sergeant Whitley, " he said, "in this emergency what would you do, ifyou were in my place?"

The sergeant saluted respectfully. 

"If I were in your place, sir, which I never will be, " he replied, "I would have all the troops leave the train. Then I would have theengineers take the train forward slowly, while the troops marched oneither side of it, but at a sufficient distance to be hidden in thedarkness. Then, sir, our men could not be caught in a wreck, but withtheir feet on solid earth they would be ready, if need be, for a fight, which is our business. "

"Well spoken, Sergeant Whitley, " said Colonel Newcomb, while the otherofficers also nodded approval. "Your plan is excellent and we will adoptit. Get the troops out of the train quickly but in silence and do you, Canby, be ready with the engine. "

Dick and Warner with the older officers turned to the task. The youngsoldiers were out of the train in two minutes and were forming in lineson either side, arms ready. There were many whisperings among theseboys, but none loud enough to be heard twenty yards away. All feltintense relief when they left the train and stood upon the solid, thoughdecidedly damp earth. 

But the cold rain sweeping upon their faces was a tonic, both mental andphysical, after the close heat of the train. They did not know why theyhad disembarked, but they surmised with good reason that an attack wasthreatened and they were eager to meet it. 

Dick and Warner were near the head of the line on the right of thetracks, and Sergeant Whitley was with them. The train began to puffheavily, and in spite of every precaution some sparks flew from thesmoke-stack. Dick knew that it was bound to rumble and rattle when itstarted, but he was surprised at the enormous amount of noise it made, when the wheels really began to turn. It seemed to him that in thesilence of the night it could be heard three or four miles. Then herealized that it was merely his own excitement and extreme tension ofboth mind and body. Canby was taking the train forward so gently thatits sounds were drowned two hundred yards away in the swirl of wind andrain. 

The men marched, each line keeping abreast of the train, but fifty yardsor more to one side. The young troops were forbidden to speak and theirfootsteps made no noise in the wet grass and low bushes. Dick and Warnerkept their eyes on the mountains, turning them alternately from north tosouth. Nothing appeared on either ridge, and no sound came to tell of anenemy near. 

Dick began to believe that they would pass through the valley and out ofthe trap without a combat. But while a train may go two or three milesin a few minutes it takes troops marching in the darkness over uncertainground a long time to cover the same distance. They marched a full halfhour and then Dick suppressed a cry. The light, burning as intenselyred as before, appeared again on the mountain to the right, but furthertoward the west, seeming to have moved parallel to the Northern troops. As Dick looked it began to flash swiftly from side to side and thatchill and weird feeling again ran down his spine. He looked toward thesouth and there was the second signal, red and intense, replying to thefirst. 

Dick heard a deep "Ah!" run along the line of young troops, and he knewnow that they understood as much as he or any of the officers did. Henow knew, too, that they would not pass out of the valley without acombat. The Southern forces, beyond a doubt, would try to shut them inat the western mouth of the valley, and a battle in the night and rainwas sure to follow. 

The train continued to move slowly forward. Had Colonel Newcomb daredhe would have ordered Canby to increase his speed in order that he mightreach the western mouth of the valley before the Southern force had achance to tear up the rails, but there was no use for the train withoutthe troops and they were already marching as fast as they could. 

The gorge was now not more than a quarter of a mile away. Dick was ableto discern it, because the darkness there was not quite so dark as thatwhich lay against the mountains on either side. He was hopeful that theymight yet reach it before the Southern force could close down upon them, but before they went many yards further he heard the beat of horses'feet both to right and left and knew that the enemy was at hand. 

"Take the train on through the pass, Canby!" shouted Colonel Newcomb. "We'll cover its retreat, and join you later--if we can. "

The train began to rattle and roar, and its speed increased. Showersof sparks shot from the funnels of the two engines, and gleamed foran instant in the darkness. The beat of horses' feet grew to thunder. Colonel Newcomb with great presence of mind drew the two parallel linesof his men close together, and ordered them to lie down on either sideof the railroad track and face outward with cocked rifles. Dick, theVermonter, and Sergeant Whitley lay close together, and the three facedthe north. 

"See the torches!" said Whitley. 

Dick saw eight or ten torches wavering and flickering at a height ofseven or eight feet above the ground, and he knew that they were carriedby horsemen, but he could not see either men or horses beneath. Then therapid beat of hoofs ceased abruptly at a distance that Dick thought mustbe about two hundred yards. 

"Lie flat!" cried Whitley. "They're about to fire!"

CHAPTER III. THE TELEGRAPH STATION

The darkness to the north was suddenly split apart by a solid sheet offlame. Dick by the light saw many men on horseback and others on foot, bridle rein over arm. It was well for the seven hundred boys that theyhad pressed themselves against the solid earth. A sheet of bullets swepttoward them. Most passed over their heads, but many struck upon bonesand flesh, and cries of pain rose from the lines of men lying along therailroad track. 

The seven hundred pulled trigger and fired at the flash. They firedso well that Dick could hear Southern horses neighing with pain, andstruggling in the darkness. He felt sure that many men, too, had beenhit. At least no charge came. The seven hundred shouted with exultationand, leaping to their feet, prepared to fire a second volley. But theswift command of their officers quickly put them down again. 

"Don't forget the other Confederate column to the south of us, "whispered Whitley. "They did not fire at first for fear their bulletswould pass over our heads and strike their own comrades. For the samereason they must have dropped back a little in order to avoid the fireof their friends. Their volley will come from an angle about midwaybetween our left and rear. "

Just as he spoke the last words the rifles flashed at the surmised angleand again the bullets beat among the young troops or swept over theirheads. A soldier was killed only a few feet from Dick. The boy picked uphis rifle and ammunition and began to fire whenever he saw the flash ofan opposing weapon. But the fire of both Confederate columns ceased ina minute or two, and not a shot nor the sound of a single order came outof the darkness. But Dick with his ear to the soft earth, could hear thecrush of hoofs in the mud, and with a peculiar ability to discern whencesound came he knew that the force on the left and rear was crossingthe railroad track in order to join their comrades on the north. Hewhispered his knowledge to Whitley, who whispered back:

"It's the natural thing for them to do. They could not afford to fighton in the darkness with two separate forces. The two columns would soonbe firing into each other. "

Colonel Newcomb now gave an order for the men to rise and follow therailroad track, but also to fire at the flash of the rifles whenevera volley was poured upon them. He must not only beat off the Southernattack, but also continue the journey to those points in the west wherethey were needed so sorely. Some of his men had been killed, and hewas compelled to leave their bodies where they had fallen. Others werewounded, but without exception they were helped along by their comrades. 

Warner also had secured a rifle, with which he fired occasionally, buthe and Dick, despite the darkness, kept near to Colonel Newcomb inorder that they might deliver any orders that he should choose to give. Sergeant Whitley was close to them. Dick presently heard the rush ofwater. 

"What is that?" he exclaimed. 

"It's the little river that runs down the valley, " replied Warner. "There's a slope here and it comes like a torrent. A bridge or rathertrestle is only a little further, and we've got to walk the ties, if wereach the other side. They'll make their heaviest rush there, I suppose, as beyond a doubt they are thoroughly acquainted with the ground. "

The Northern troops left the track which here ran along an embankmentseveral feet high, and took shelter on its southern side. They now hadan advantage for a while, as they fired from a breastwork upon theirfoes, who were in the open. But the darkness, lit only by the flashes ofthe rifles, kept the fire of both sides from being very destructive, thebullets being sent mainly at random. 

Dick dimly saw the trestle work ahead of them, and the roaring of thelittle river increased. He did not know how deep the water was, but hewas sure that it could not be above his waist as it was a small stream. An idea occurred to him and he promptly communicated it to ColonelNewcomb. 

"Suppose, sir, " he said, "that we ford the river just below the trestle. It will deceive them and we'll be half way across before they suspectthe change. "

"A good plan, Mr. Mason, " said Colonel Newcomb. "We'll try it. "

Word was quickly passed along the line that they should turn to the leftas they approached the trestle, march swiftly down the slope, and dashinto the stream. As fast as they reached the other side of the ford themen should form upon the bank there, and with their rifles cover thepassage of their comrades. 

The skeleton work of the trestle now rose more clearly into view. Therain had almost ceased and faint rays of moonlight showed through therifts where the clouds had broken apart. The boys distinctly heard thegurgling rush of waters, and they also saw the clear, bluish surface ofthe mountain stream. The same quickening of light disclosed the Southernforce on their right flank and rear, only four or five hundred yardsaway. Dick's hasty glance backward lingered for a moment on a powerfulman on a white horse just in advance of the Southern column. He sawthis man raise his hand and then command the men to fire. He and twentyothers under the impulse of excitement shouted to the regiment to dropdown, and the Northern lads did so. 

Most of the volley passed over their heads. Rising they sent back areturn discharge, and then the head of the columns rushed into thestream. Dick felt swift water whirling about him and tugging at hisbody, but it rose no higher than his waist, although foam and spraywere dashed into his face. He heard all around him the splashing of hiscomrades, and their murmurs of satisfaction. They realized now that theywere not only able to retreat before a much superior force, but thissame stream, when crossed, would form a barrier behind which they couldfight two to one. 

The Confederate leader, whoever he might be, and Dick had no doubt thathe was the redoubtable Turner Ashby, also appreciated the full facts andhe drove his whole force straight at the regiment. It was well forthe young troops that part of them were already across, and, under theskillful leadership of Colonel Newcomb, Major Hertford, and three orfour old, regular army sergeants, of whom the best was Whitley, werealready forming in line of battle. 

"Kneel, " shouted the colonel, "and fire over the heads of your comradesat the enemy!"

The light was still growing brighter. The rain came only in slightflurries. The clouds were trooping off toward the northeast, and themoon was out. Dick clearly saw the black mass of the Southern horsemenwheeling down upon them. At least three hundred of the regiment were nowupon the bank, and, with fairly steady aim, they poured a heavy volleyinto the massed ranks of their foe. Dick saw horses fall while othersdashed away riderless. But the Southern line wavered only for a momentand then came on again with many shouts. There were also dismountedmen on either flank who knelt and maintained a heavy fire upon thedefenders. 

The lads in blue were suffering many wounds, but a line of treesand underbrush on the western shore helped them. Lying there partlyprotected they loaded and pulled trigger as fast as they could, whilethe rest of their comrades emerged dripping from the stream to jointhem. The Confederates, brave as they were, had no choice but to giveground against such strong defense, and the miner colonel, despite hisreserve and his middle years, gave vent to his exultation. 

"We can hold this line forever!" he exclaimed to his aides. "It's onething to charge us in the open, but it's quite another to get at usacross a deep and rushing stream. Major Hertford, take part of the mento the other side of the railroad track and drive back any attempt at acrossing there. Lieutenant Mason, you and Lieutenant Warner go ahead andsee what has become of the train. You can get back here in plenty timefor more fighting. "

Dick and Warner hurried forward, following the line of the railroad. Their blood was up and they did not like to leave the defense of theriver, but orders must be obeyed. As they ran down the railroad track aman came forward swinging a lantern, and they saw the tall gaunt figureof Canby, the chief engineer. Behind him the train stretched away in thedarkness. 

"I guess that our men have forded the river and are holding the bank, "said Canby. "Do they need the train crew back there to help?"

He spoke with husky eagerness. Dick knew that he was longing to be inthe middle of the fight, but that his duty kept him with the train. 

"No, " he replied. "The river bank, and the road along its shore give usa great position for defense, and I know we can hold it. Colonel Newcombdid not say so, but perhaps you'd better bring the train back nearer us. It's not our object to stay in this valley and fight, but to go into thewest. Is all clear ahead?"

"No enemy is there. Some of the brakemen have gone on a mile or two andthey say the track hasn't been touched. You tell Colonel Newcomb thatI'm bringing the train right down to the battle line. "

Dick and Warner returned quickly to Colonel Newcomb, who appreciatedCanby's courage and presence of mind. As the train approached the fourcannon were unloaded from the trucks, and swept the further shore withshell and shrapnel. After a scattered fire the Southern force withdrewsome distance, where it halted, apparently undecided. The clouds rolledup again, the feeble moon disappeared, and the river sank into the dark. 

"May I make a suggestion, Colonel Newcomb?" said Major Hertford. 

"Certainly. "

"The enemy will probably seek an undefended ford much higher up, crossunder cover of the new darkness and attack us in heavy force on theflank. Suppose we get aboard the train at once, cannon and all, andleave them far behind. "

"Excellent. If the darkness covers their movements it also covers ours. Load the train as fast as possible and see that no wounded are leftbehind. "

He gave rapid orders to all his officers and aides, and in fifteenminutes the troops were aboard the train again, the cannon were liftedupon the trucks, Canby and his assistants had all steam up, and thetrain with its usual rattle and roar resumed its flight into the west. 

Dick and Warner were in the first coach near Colonel Newcomb, ready forany commands that he might give. Both had come through the defense ofthe ford without injury, although a bullet had gone through Dick's coatwithout touching the skin. Sergeant Whitley, too, was unharmed, but theregiment had suffered. More than twenty dead were left in the valley forthe enemy to bury. 

Despite all the commands and efforts of the officers there was muchexcited talk in the train. Boys were binding up wounds of other boys andwere condoling with them. But on the whole they were exultant. Youthdid not realize the loss of those who had been with them so little. Scattered exclamations came to Dick:

"We beat 'em off that time, an' we can do it again. "

"Lucky though we had that little river before us. Guess they'd have rodeus right down with their horses if it hadn't been for the stream an' itsbanks. "

"Ouch, don't draw that bandage so tight on my arm. It ain't nothin' buta flesh wound. "

"I hate a battle in the dark. Give me the good sunshine, where you cansee what's goin' on. My God, that you Bill! I'm tremendous glad to seeyou! I thought you was lyin' still, back there in the grass!"

Dick said nothing. He was in a seat next to the window, and his face waspressed against the rain-marked pane. The rifle that he had picked upand used so well was still clutched, grimed with smoke, in his hands. The train had not yet got up speed. He caught glimpses of the riverbehind which they had fought, and which had served them so well as abarrier. In fact, he knew that it had saved them. But they had beatenoff the enemy! The pulses in his temples still throbbed from exertionand excitement, but his heart beat exultantly. The bitterness of BullRun was deep and it had lasted long, but here they were the victors. 

The speed of the train increased and Dick knew that they were safe fromfurther attack. They were still running among mountains, clad heavilyin forest, but a meeting with a second Southern force was beyondprobability. The first had made a quick raid on information supplied byspies in Washington, but it had failed and the way was now clear. 

Ample food was served somewhat late to the whole regiment, the lastwounds were bound up, and Dick, having put aside the rifle, fell asleepat last. His head lay against the window and he slept heavily allthrough the night. Warner in the next seat slept in the same way. Butthe wise old sergeant just across the aisle remained awake much longer. He was summing up and he concluded that the seven hundred lads had donewell. They were raw, but they were being whipped into shape. 

He smiled a little grimly as the unspoken words, "whipped into shape, "rose to his lips. The veteran of many an Indian battle foresaw somethingvastly greater than anything that had occurred on the plains. "Whippedinto shape!" Why, in the mighty war that was gathering along a front oftwo thousand miles no soldier could escape being whipped into shape, orbeing whipped out of it. 

But the sergeant's own eyes closed after a while, and he, too, slept thesleep of utter mental and physical exhaustion. The train rumbled on, thefaithful Canby in the first engine aware of his great responsibility andequal to it. Not a wink of sleep for him that night. The darkness hadlightened somewhat more. The black of the skies had turned to a duskyblue, and the bolder stars were out. He could always see the shiningrails three or four hundred yards ahead, and he sent his train steadilyforward at full speed, winding among the gorges and rattling over thetrestles. The silent mountains gave back every sound in dying echoes, but Canby paid no heed to them. His eyes were always on the track ahead, and he, too, was exultant. He had brought the regiment through, andwhile it was on the train his responsibility was not inferior to that ofColonel Newcomb. 

When Dick awoke, bright light was pouring in at the car windows, but thecar was cold and his body was stiff and sore. His military overcoat hadbeen thrown over him in the night and Warner had been covered inthe same way. They did not know that Sergeant Whitley had done thatthoughtful act. 

Dick stretched himself and drew deep breaths. Warm youth soon sent theblood flowing in a full tide through his veins, and the stiffnessand soreness departed. He saw through the window that they were stillrunning among the mountains, but they did not seem to be so high hereas they were at the river by which they had fought in the night. He knewfrom his geography and his calculation of time that they must be farinto that part of Virginia which is now West Virginia. 

There was no rain now, at least where the train was running, but thesun had risen on a cold world. Far up on the higher peaks he saw a finewhite mist which he believed to be falling snow. Obviously it was winterhere and putting on the big military coat he drew it tightly about him. Others in the coach were waking up and some of them, grown feverishwith their wounds, were moving restlessly on their seats, where they layprotected by the blankets of their fellows. 

Dick now and then saw a cabin nestling in the lee of a hill, with theblue smoke rising from its chimney into the clear, wintry air, andsmall and poor as they were they gave him a singular sense of peace andcomfort. His mind felt for a few moments a strong reaction from war andits terrors, but the impulse and the strong purpose that bore him onsoon came back. 

The train rushed through a pass and entered a sheltered valley a mile ortwo wide and eight or ten miles long. A large creek ran through it, andthe train stopped at a village on its banks. The whole population of thevillage and all the farmers of the valley were there to meet them. Itwas a Union valley and by some system of mountain telegraphy, althoughthere were no telegraph wires, news of the battle at the ford hadpreceded the train. 

"Come, lads, " said Colonel Newcomb to his staff. "Out with you! We'reamong friends here!"

Dick and Warner were glad enough to leave the train. The air, cold as itwas, was like the breath of heaven on their faces, and the cheers ofthe people were like the trump of fame in their ears. Pretty girls withtheir faces in red hoods or red comforters were there with food andsmoking coffee. Medicines for the wounded, as much as the village couldsupply, had been brought to the train, and places were already made forthose hurt too badly to go on with the expedition. 

The whole cheerful scene, with its life and movement, the sight of newfaces and the sound of many voices, had a wonderful effect upon youngDick Mason. He had a marvellously sensitive temperament, a directinheritance from his famous border ancestor, Paul Cotter. Things werealways vivid to him. Either they glowed with color, or they were huelessand dead. This morning the long strain of the night and its battle wasrelaxed completely. The grass in the valley was brown with frost, andthe trees were shorn of their leaves by the winter winds, but to Dickit was the finest village that he had ever seen, and these were thefriendliest people in the world. 

He drank a cup of hot coffee handed to him by the stalwart wife of afarmer, and then, when she insisted, drank another. 

"You're young to be fightin', " she said sympathetically. 

"We all are, " said Dick with a glance at the regiment, "but howeverwe may fight you'll never find anybody attacking a breakfast with morevalor and spirit than we do. "

She looked at the long line of lads, drinking coffee and eating ham, bacon, eggs, and hot biscuits, and smiled. 

"I reckon you tell the truth, young feller, " she said, "but it's good tosee 'em go at it. "

She passed on to help others, and Dick, summoned by Colonel Newcomb, went into a little railroad and telegraph station. The telegraph wireshad been cut behind them, but ten miles across the mountains the spur ofanother railroad touched a valley. The second railroad looped towardthe north, and it was absolutely sure that it was beyond the reachof Southern raiders. Colonel Newcomb wished to send a message to theSecretary of War and the President, telling of the night's events andhis triumphant passage through the ordeal. These circumstances mightmake them wish to change his orders, and at any rate the commander ofthe regiment wished to be sure of what he was doing. 

"You're a Kentuckian and a good horseman, " said Colonel Newcomb to Dick. "The villagers have sent me a trusty man, one Bill Petty, as a guide. Take Sergeant Whitley and you three go to the station. I've alreadywritten my dispatches, and I put them in your care. Have them sent atonce, and if necessary wait four hours for an answer. If it comes, rideback as fast as you can. The horses are ready and I rely upon you. "

"Thank you, sir, I'll do my best, " said Dick, who deeply appreciated thecolonel's confidence. He wasted no time in words, but went at once toSergeant Whitley, who was ready in five minutes. Warner, who heard ofthe mission, was disappointed because he was not going too. But he wasphilosophical. 

"I've made a close calculation, " he said, "and I have demonstrated tomy own satisfaction that our opportunities are sixty per cent energy andability, twenty per cent manners, and twenty per cent chance. In thiscase chance, which made the Colonel better acquainted with you thanwith me, was in your favor. We won't discuss the other eighty per cent, because this twenty is enough. Besides it looks pretty cold on themountains, and its fine here in the village. But luck with you, Dick. "

He gave his comrade's hand a strong grasp and walked away toward thelittle square of the village, where the troops were encamped for thepresent. Dick sprang upon a horse which Bill Petty was holding for him. Whitley was already up, and the three rode swiftly toward a blue linewhich marked a cleft between two ridges. Dick first observed theirguide. Bill Petty was a short but very stout man, clad in a suit ofhome-made blue jeans, the trousers of which were thrust into highboots with red tops. A heavy shawl of dark red was wrapped around hisshoulders, and beneath his broad-brimmed hat a red woolen comfortercovered his ears, cheeks, and chin. His thick hair and a thick beardclothing his entire face were a flaming red. The whole effect of the manwas somewhat startling, but when he saw Dick looking at him in curiosityhis mouth opened wide in a grin of extreme good nature. 

"I guess you think I'm right red, " he said. "Well, I am, an' as you seeI always dress to suit my complexion. Guess I'll warm up the road someon a winter day like this. "

"Would you mind my callin' you Red Blaze?" asked Sergeant Whitleygravely. 

"Not-a-tall! Not-a-tall! I'd like it. I guess it's sorter pictorial an''maginative like them knights of old who had fancy names 'cordin' totheir qualities. People 'round here are pretty plain, an' they've nevercalled me nothin' but Bill. Red Blaze she is. "

"An' Blaze for short. Well, then, Blaze, what kind of a road is thatwe're goin' to ride on?"

"Depends on the kind of weather in which you ask the question. As it'sthe fust edge of winter here in the mountains, though it ain't quitecome in the lowlands, an' as it's rained a lot in the last week, Ireckon you'll find it bad. Mebbe our hosses will go down in the roadto thar knees, but I guess they won't sink up to thar bodies. They maystumble an' throw us, but as we'll hit in soft mud it ain't likely tohurt us. It may rain hard, 'cause I see clouds heapin' up thar in thewest. An' if it rains the cold may then freeze a skim of ice over theroad, on which we could slip an' break our necks, hosses an' all. Thenthar are some cliffs close to the road. If we was to slip on that tharskim of ice which we've reckoned might come, then mebbe we'd go over oneof them cliffs and drop down a hundred feet or so right swift. If it wassoft mud down below we might not get hurt mortal. But it ain't softmud. We'd hit right in the middle of sharp, hard rocks. An' if a gangof rebel sharpshooters has wandered up here they may see us an' chase us'way off into the mountains, where we'd break our necks fallin' off theridges or freeze to death or starve to death. "

Whitley stared at him. 

"Blaze, " he exclaimed, "what kind of a man are you anyway?"

"Me? I'm the happiest man in the valley. When people are low down theycome an' talk to me to get cheered up. I always lay the worst before youfirst an' then shove it out of the way. None of them things that I wasconjurin' up is goin' to happen. I was just tellin' you of the thingsyou was goin' to escape, and now you'll feel good, knowin' what dangersyou have passed before they happened. "

Dick laughed. He liked this intensely red man with his round face andtwinkling eyes. He saw, too, that the mountaineer was a fine horseman, and as he carried a long slender-barreled rifle over his shoulder, whilea double-barreled pistol was thrust in his belt, it was likely that hewould prove a formidable enemy to any who sought to stop him. 

"Perhaps your way is wise, " said the boy. "You begin with the badand end with the good. What is the name of this place to which we aregoing?"

"Hubbard. There was a pioneer who fit the Injuns in here in earlytimes. I never heard that he got much, 'cept a town named after him. ButHubbard is a right peart little place, with a bank, two stores, threechurches, an' nigh on to two hundred people. Are you wrapped up well, Mr. Mason, 'cause it's goin' to be cold on the mountains?"

Dick wore heavy boots, and a long, heavy military coat which fell belowhis knees and which also had a high collar protecting his ears. Hewas provided also with heavy buckskin gloves. The sergeant was cladsimilarly. 

"I think I'm clothed against any amount of cold, " he replied. 

"Well, you need to be, " said Petty, "'cause the pass through which we'regoin' is at least fifteen hundred feet above Townsville--that's ourvillage--an' I reckon it's just 'bout as high over Hubbard. Them fifteenhundred feet make a pow'ful difference in climate, as you'll soon findout. It's not only colder thar, but the winds are always blowin' hardthrough the pass. Jest look back at Townsville. Ain't she fine an' neatdown thar in the valley, beside that clear creek which higher up in themountains is full of the juiciest an' sweetest trout that man ever stucka tooth into. "

Dick saw that Petty was talkative, but he did not mind. In fact, bothhe and Whitley liked the man's joyous and unbroken run of chatter. Heturned in his saddle and looked back, following the stout man's pointingfinger. Townsville, though but a little mountain town built mainly oflogs, was indeed a jewel, softened and with a silver sheen thrown overit by the mountain air which was misty that morning. He dimly saw thelong black line of the train standing on the track, and here and therewarm rings of smoke rose from the chimneys and floated up into theheavens, where they were lost. 

He thought he could detect little figures moving beside the train andhe knew that they must be those of his comrades. He felt for a momenta sense of loneliness. He had not known these lads long, but the battlehad bound them firmly together. They had been comrades in danger andthat made them comrades as long as they lived. 

"Greatest town in the world, " said Petty, waving toward it a huge hand, encased in a thick yarn glove. "I've traveled from it as much as fiftymiles in every direction, north, south, east, an' west, an' I ain'tnever seed its match. I reckon I'm somethin' of a traveler, but everytime I come back to Townsville, I think all the more of it, seein' howmuch better it is than anything else. "

Dick glanced at the mountaineer, and saw that there could be no doubt ofhis sincerity. 

"You're a lucky man, Mr. Petty, " he said, "to live in the finest placein the world. "

"Yes, if I don't get drug off to the war. I'm not hankerin' for fightin'an' I don't know much what the war's about though I'm for the Union, fust to last, an' that's the way most of the people 'bout here feel. Turn your heads ag'in, friends, an' take another look at Townsville. "

Dick and Whitley glanced back and saw only the blank gray wall of themountain. Petty laughed. He was the finest laugher that Dick had everheard. The laugh did not merely come from the mouth, it was also exuded, pouring out through every pore. It was rolling, unctuous, and so strongthat Petty not only shook with it, but his horse seemed to shake also. It was mellow, too, with an organ note that comes of a mighty lung andthroat, and of pure air breathed all the year around. 

"Thought I'd git the joke on you, " he said, when he stopped laughing. "The road's been slantin' into the mountains, without you knowin' it, and Townsville is cut off by the cliffs. You'll find it gettin' wildernow 'till we start down the slope on the other side. Lucky our hossesare strong, 'cause the mud is deeper than I thought it would be. "

It was not really a road that they were following, merely a path, andthe going was painful. Under Petty's instructions they stopped theirmounts now and then for a rest, and a mile further on they began to feela rising wind. 

"It's the wind that I told you of, " said Petty. "It's sucked through sixor seven miles of pass, an' it will blow straight in our faces all theway. As we'll be goin' up for a long distance you'll find it growin'colder, too. But you've got to remember that after you pass them coldwinds an' go down the slope you'll strike another warm little valley, the one in which Hubbard is layin' so neat an' so snug. "

Dick had already noticed the increasing coldness and so had thesergeant. Whitley, from his long experience on the plains, had thekeenest kind of an eye for climatic changes. He noticed with someapprehension that the higher peaks were clothed in thick, cold fog, buthe said nothing to the brave boy whom he had grown to love like a son. But both he and Dick drew their heavy coats closer and were thankful forthe buckskin gloves, without which their hands would have stiffened onthe reins. 

Now they rode in silence with their heads bent well forward, becausethe wind was becoming fiercer and fiercer. Over the peaks the fogs weregrowing thicker and darker and after a while the sharp edge of the windwas wet with rain. It stung their faces, and they drew their hat brimslower and their coat collars higher to protect themselves from such acutting blast. 

"Told you we might have trouble, " called Petty, cheerfully, "but ifyou ride right on through trouble you'll leave trouble behind. Nor thisain't nothin' either to what we kin expect before we git to the top ofthe pass. Cur'us what a pow'ful lot human bein's kin stand when theymake up their minds to it. "

"Are the horses well shod?" asked Whitley. 

"Best shod in the world, 'cause I done it myself. That's my trade, blacksmith, an' I'm a good one if I do say it. I heard before we startedthat you had been a soldier in the west. I s'pose that you had to lookmighty close to your hosses then. A man couldn't afford to be ridin'a hoss made lame by bad shoein' when ten thousand yellin' Sioux orBlackfeet was after him. "

"No, you couldn't, " replied the sergeant. "Out there you had to watchevery detail. That's one of the things that fightin' Indians taught. You had to be watchin' all the time an' I reckon the trainin' will beof value in this war. Are we mighty near to the top of the pass, Mr. Petty?"

"Got two or three miles yet. The slope is steeper on the other side. Werise a lot more before we hit the top. "

The wind grew stronger with every rod they ascended, and the horsesbegan to pant with their severe exertions. At Petty's suggestion thethree riders dismounted and walked for a while, leading their horses. The rain turned to a fine hail and stung their faces. Had it notbeen for his two good comrades Dick would have found his situationinexpressibly lonely and dreary. The heavy fog now enveloped all thepeaks and ridges and filled every valley and chasm. He could see onlyfifteen or twenty yards ahead along the muddy path, and the fine hailwhich gave every promise of becoming a storm of sleet stung continually. The wind confined in the narrow gorge also uttered a hideous shriekingand moaning. 

"Tests your nerve!" shouted Petty to Dick. "There are hard thingsbesides battles to stand, an' this is goin' to be one of the hard ones, but if you go through it all right you kin go through any number of thesame kind all right, too. Likely the sleet will be so thick that it willmake a sheet of slippery ice for us comin' back. Now, hosses that ain'tgot calks on thar shoes are pretty shore to slip an' fall, breakin' aleg or two, an' mebbe breakin' the necks of thar riders. "

Dick looked at him with some amazement. Despite his announcement of diredisaster the man's eyes twinkled merrily and the round, red outline ofhis bushy head in the scarlet comforter made a cheerful blaze. 

"It's jest as I told you, " said Petty, meeting the boy's look. "Withoutcalks on thar shoes our hosses are pretty shore to slip on the iceand break theirselves up, or fall down a cliff an' break themselves upmore. "

"Then why in thunder, Blaze, " exclaimed Whitley, "did we start withoutcalks on the shoes of our horses?"

Red Blaze broke into a deep mellow laugh, starting from the bottom ofhis diaphragm, swelling as it passed through his chest, swelling againas it passed through throat and mouth, and bursting upon the open air ina mighty diapason that rose cheerfully above the shrieking and moaningof the wind. 

"We didn't start without em, " he replied. "The twelve feet of thesethree hosses have on 'em the finest calked shoes in all these mountains. I put 'em on myself, beginnin' the job this mornin' before you wasawake, your colonel, on the advice of the people of Townsville who knowme as one of its leadin' an' trusted citizens, havin' selected me as theguide of this trip. I was jest tellin' you what would happen to you if Ididn't justify the confidence of the people of Townsville. "

"I allow, Red Blaze, " said the sergeant with confidence, "that you ain'tno fool, an' that you're lookin' out for our best interests. Lead on. "

Red Blaze's mellow and pleased laugh rose once more above the whistlingof the wind. 

"You kin ride ag'in now, boys, " he said. "The hosses are pretty wellrested. "

They resumed the saddle gladly and now mounted toward the crest of thepass. The sleet turned to snow, which was a relief to their faces, and Dick, with the constant beating of wind and snow, began to feela certain physical exhilaration. He realized the truth of Red Blaze'sassertion that if you stiffen your back and push your way throughtroubles you leave troubles behind. 

They rode now in silence for quite a while, and then Red Blaze suddenlyannounced:

"We're at the top, boys. "

CHAPTER IV. THE FIGHT IN THE PASS

The three halted their horses and stood for a minute or two on the verycrest of the pass. The fierce wind out of the northwest blew directly intheir faces and both riders and horses alike were covered with snow. ButDick felt a wonderful thrill as he gazed upon the vast white wilderness. East and west, north and south he saw the driving snow and the loftypeaks and ridges showing through it, white themselves. The towns belowand the cabins that snuggled in the coves were completely hidden. Theycould see no sign of human life on slope or in valley. 

"Looks as wild as the Rockies, " said the sergeant tersely. 

"But you won't find any Injuns here to ambush you, " said Red Blaze, "though I don't make any guarantee against bushwhackers and guerillas, who'll change sides as often as two or three times a day, if it willsuit their convenience. They could hide in the woods along the road an'pick us off as easy as I'd shoot a squirrel out of a tree. They'd liketo have our arms an' our big coats. I tell you what, friends, a mightycivil war like ours gives a tremenjeous opportunity to bad men. They're all comin' to the top. Every rascal in the mountains an' in thelowlands, too, I guess, is out lookin' for plunder an' wuss. "

"You're right, Red Blaze, " said the sergeant with emphasis, "an' itwon't be stopped until the generals on both sides begin to hang an'shoot the plunderers an' murderers. "

"But they can't ketch 'em all, " said Red Blaze. "A Yankee general witha hundred thousand men will be out lookin' for what? Not for a gangof robbers, not by a jugful. He'll be lookin' for a rebel general withanother hundred thousand men, an' the rebel general with a hundredthousand men will be lookin' for that Yankee general with his hundredthousand. So there you are, an' while they're lookin' for each other an'then fightin' each other to a standstill, the robbers will be plunderin'an' murderin'. But don't you worry about bein' ambushed. I was jesttellin' you what might happen, but wouldn't happen. We kin go down hillfast now, and we'll soon be in Hubbard, which is the other side of allthat fallin' snow. "

The road down the mountain was also better than the one by which theyhad ascended, and as the horses with their calked shoes were swift offoot they made rapid progress. As they descended, the wind lowered fastand there was much less snow. Red Blaze said it was probably not snowingin the valley at all. 

"See that shinin' in the sun, " he said. "That's the tin coverin' on thesteeple of the new church in Hubbard. The sun strikes squar'ly on it, an' now I know I'm right 'bout it not snowin' down thar. Wait 'til weturn 'roun' this big rock. Yes, thar's Hubbard, layin' out in the valleywithout a drop of snow on her. It looks good, don't it, friends, withthe smoke comin' out of the chimneys. That little red house over thar isthe railroad an' telegraph station, an' we'll go straight for it, 'causewe ain't got no time to waste. "

They emerged into the valley and rode rapidly for the station. Farmerson the outskirts and villagers looked wonderingly at them, but they didnot pause to answer questions. They galloped their tired mounts straightfor the little red building, which was the station. Dick sprang firstfrom his horse, and leaving it to stand at the door, ran inside. Atelegraph instrument was clicking mournfully in the corner. A hot stovewas in another corner, and sitting near it was a lad of about Dick'sage, clad in mountain jeans, and lounging in an old cane-bottomed chair. But Dick's quick glance saw that the boy was bright of face and keen ofeye. He promptly drew out his papers and said:

"I'm an aide from the Northern regiment of Colonel Newcomb atTownsville. Here are duplicate dispatches, one set for the President ofthe United States and the other for the Secretary of War. They tell of asuccessful fight that we had last night with Southern troops, presumablythe cavalrymen of Turner Ashby. I wish you to send them at once. "

"He's speakin' the exact truth, Jim, " said Red Blaze, who had comein behind Dick, "an' I've brought him an' the sergeant here over themountains to tell about it. "

The boy sprang to his instrument. But he stopped a moment to ask onequestion. 

"Did you really beat 'em off?" he asked as he looked up with shiningeye. 

"We certainly did, " replied Dick. 

"I'll send it faster than I ever sent anything before, " said the boy. "To think of me, Jim Johnson, sending a dispatch to Abraham Lincoln, telling of a victory!"

"I reckon you're right, Jim, it's your chance, " said Red Blaze. 

Jim bent over the instrument which now began to click steadily and fast. 

"You're to wait for answers, " said Dick. 

The boy nodded, but his shining eyes remained bent over the instrument. Dick went to the door, brushed off the snow, came back and sat down bythe stove. Sergeant Whitley, who had tied the horses to hitching posts, came in, pulled up an empty box and sat down by him. Red Blaze slippedaway unnoticed. But he came back very soon, and men and women came withhim, bringing food and smoking coffee. There was enough for twenty. 

Red Blaze had spread among the villagers, every one of whom he knew, thenews that the Union arms had won a victory. Nor had it suffered anythingin the telling. Colonel Newcomb's regiment, by the most desperate featsof gallantry, had beaten off at least ten thousand Southerners, and theboy and the man in uniform, who were resting by the fire in the station, had been the greatest two heroes of a battle waged for a whole night. 

Curious eyes gazed at Dick and the sergeant as they sat there by thestove. Dick himself, warm, relaxed, and the needs of his body satisfied, felt like going to sleep. But he watched the boy operator, who presentlyfinished his two dispatches and then lifted his head for the first time. 

"They've gone straight into Washington, " he said. "We ought to get ananswer soon. "

"We'll wait here for it, " said Dick. 

The three messengers were now thoroughly warmed at the stove, theyhad eaten heartily of the best the village could furnish, and a greatfeeling of comfort pervaded them. While they were waiting for the replythat they hoped would come from Washington, Dick Mason and SergeantWhitley went outside. No snow was falling in the valley, but off on themountain crest they still saw the white veil, blown by the wind. 

Red Blaze joined them and was everywhere their guide and herald. Heascribed to them such deeds of skill and valor that they were compelledto call him the best romancer they had met in a long time. 

"I suppose that if Mr. Warner were here, " said the sergeant, "he wouldreduce these statements to mathematics, ten per cent fact an' ninety percent fancy. "

"Just about that, " said Dick. 

Red Blaze came to them presently, bristling with news. 

"A farmer from a hollow further to the west, " he said, "has just comein, an' he says that a band of guerillas is ridin' through the hills. 'Bout twenty of them, he said, led by a big dark fellow, his facecovered with black beard. They've been liftin' hosses an' takin' otherthings, but they're strangers in these parts. Tom Sykes, who was held upby them an' robbed of his hoss, says that the rest of 'em called theirleader Skelly. Tom seemed to think that mebbe they came from somewherein the Kentucky mountains. They called themselves a scoutin' party ofthe Southern army. "

Dick started violently. 

"Why, I know this man Skelly, " he said. "He lives in the mountainsto the eastward of my home in Kentucky. He organized a band at thebeginning of the war, but over there he said he was fightin' for theNorth. "

"He'll be fightin' for his own hand, " said the sergeant sternly. "But hecan't play double all the time. That sort of thing will bring a man tothe end of a rope, with clear air under his feet. "

"I'm glad you've told me this, " said Red Blaze. "Skelly might have comeridin' in here, claimin' that he an' his men was Northern troops, an'then when we wasn't suspectin' might have held up the whole town. I'llwarn 'em. Thar ain't a house here that hasn't got two or three riflesan' shotguns in it, an' with the farmers from the valley joinin' inHubbard could wipe out the whole gang. "

"Tell them to be on guard all the time, Red Blaze, " said Whitley withstrong emphasis. "In war you've got to watch, watch, watch. Always knowwhat the other fellow is doin', if you can. "

"Let's go back to the station, " said Dick. "Maybe we'll have an answersoon. "

They found the young operator hanging over his instrument, his eyesstill shining. He had been in that position ever since they left him, and Dick knew that his eagerness to get an answer from Washington kepthim there, mind and body waiting for the tick of the key. 

Dick, the sergeant, and Red Blaze sat down by the stove again, andrested there quietly for a quarter of an hour. Red Blaze was thinkingthat it would be another cold ride back over the pass. The sergeant, although he was not sleepy, closed his eyes and saw again the vastrolling plains, the herds of buffalo spreading to the horizon, and thebands of Sioux and Cheyennes galloping down, their great war bonnetsmaking splashes of color against the thin blue sky. Dick was thinking ofPendleton, the peaceful little town in Kentucky that was his home, andof his cousin, Harry Kenton. He did not know now where Harry was, and hedid not even know whether he was dead or alive. 

Dick sighed a little, and just at that moment the telegraph key began toclick. 

"The answer is coming!" exclaimed the young operator excitedly and thenhe bent closer over the key to take it. The three chairs straightenedup, and they, too, bent toward the key. The boy wrote rapidly, but theclicking did not go on long. When it ceased he straightened up with hisfinished message in his hand. His face was flushed and his eyes stillshining. He folded the paper and handed it to Dick. 

"It's for you, Mr. Mason, " he said. 

Dick unfolded it and read aloud:

"Colonel John D. Newcomb:

"Congratulations on your success and fine management of your troops. Victory worth much to us. Read dispatch to regiment and continuewestward to original destination. 

 A. LINCOLN. "

Dick's face glowed, and the sergeant's teeth came together with a littleclick of satisfaction. 

"When I saw that it was to be read to the regiment I thought it no harmto read it to the rest of you, " said Dick, as he refolded the preciousdispatch and put it in his safest pocket. "Now, sergeant, I think weought to be off at full speed. "

"Not a minute to waste, " said Sergeant Whitley. 

Their horses had been fed and were rested well. The three bade farewellto the young operator, then to almost all of Hubbard and proceeded ina trot for the pass. They did not speak until they were on the firstslope, and then the sergeant, looking up at the heights, asked:

"Shall we have snow again on our return, Red Blaze? I hope not. It'simportant for us to get back to Townsville without any waste of time. "

"I hate to bring bad news, " replied Red Blaze, "but we'll shore havemore snow. See them clouds, sailin' up an' always sailin' up from thesouthwest, an' see that white mist 'roun' the highest peaks. That'ssnow, an' it'll hit the pass just as it did when we was comin' over. Butwe've got this in favor of ourselves an' our hosses now: The wind is onour backs. "

They rode hard now. Dick had received the precious message from thePresident, and it would be a proud moment for him when he put it in thehands of the colonel. He did not wish that moment to be delayed. Severaltimes he patted the pocket in which the paper lay. 

As they ascended, the wind increased in strength, but being on theirbacks now it seemed to help them along. They were soon high up on theslopes and then they naturally turned for a parting look at Hubbard inits valley, a twin to that of Townsville. It looked from afar neat andgiven up to peace, but Dick knew that it had been stirred deeply by thevisit of his comrades and himself. 

"It seems, " he said, "that the war would pass by these little mountainnests. "

"But it don't, " said Red Blaze. "War, I guess, is like a mad an' kickin'mule, hoofs lashin' out everywhar, an' you can't tell what they're goin'to hit. Boys, we're makin' good time. That wind on our backs fairlylifts us up the mountain side. "

Petty had all the easy familiarity of the backwoods. He treated the boyand man who rode with him as comrades of at least a year's standing, andthey felt in return that he was one of them, a man to be trusted. Theyretained all the buoyancy which the receipt of the dispatch had giventhem, and Dick, his heart beating high, scarcely felt the wind and cold. 

"In another quarter of an hour we'll be at the top, " said Petty. Then headded after a moment's pause: "If I'm not mistook, we'll have company. See that path, leadin' out of the west, an' runnin' along the slope. Itcomes into the main road, two or three hundred yards further on, an' Ithink I can see the top of a horseman's head ridin' in it. What do yousay, sergeant?"

"I say that you are right, Red Blaze. I plainly see the head of a bigman, wearing a fur cap, an' there are others behind him, ridin' insingle file. What's your opinion, Mr. Mason?"

"The same as yours and Red Blaze's. I, too, can see the big man with thefur cap on his head and at least a dozen following behind. Do you thinkit likely, Red Blaze, that they'll reach the main road before we passthe mouth of the path?"

A sudden thought had leaped up in Dick's mind and it set his pulses tobeating hard. He remembered some earlier words of Red Blaze's. 

"We'll go by before they reach the main road, " replied Red Blaze, "unless they make their hosses travel a lot faster than they'retravelin' now. "

"Then suppose we whip up a little, " said Dick. 

Both Red Blaze and the sergeant gave him searching glances. 

"Do you mean--" began Whitley. 

"Yes, I mean it. I know it. The man in front wearing the fur cap is BillSkelly. He and his men made an attack upon the home of my uncle, ColonelKenton, who is a Southern leader in Kentucky. He and his band wereNortherners there, but they will be Southerners here, if it suits theirpurpose. "

"An' it will shorely suit their purpose to be Southerners now, " said RedBlaze. "We three are ridin' mighty good hoss flesh. Me an' the sergeanthave good rifles an' pistols, you have good pistols, an' we all havegood, big overcoats. This is a lonely mountain side with war flyin' allabout us. Easy's the place an' easy's the deed. That is if we'd let 'em, which we ain't goin' to do. "

"Not by a long shot, " said Sergeant Whitley, resting his rifle acrossthe pommel of his saddle. "They've got to follow straight behind. Theground is too rough for them to ride around an' flank us. "

Dick said nothing, but his gauntleted hand moved down to the butt of oneof his pistols. His heart throbbed, but he preserved the appearance ofcoolness. He was fast becoming inured to danger. Owing to the slopethey could not increase the speed of their horses greatly, but they werebeyond the mouth of the path before they were seen by Skelly and hisband. Then the big mountaineer uttered a great shout and began to wavehis hand at them. 

"The road curves here a little among the rocks, " said the sergeant, whounconsciously took command. "Suppose we stop, sheltered by the curve, and ask them what they want. "

"The very thing to do, " said Dick. 

"Sass 'em, sergeant! Sass 'em!" said Red Blaze. 

They drew their horses back partially in the shadow of the rocky curve, but the sergeant was a little further forward than the others. Dick sawSkelly and a score of men emerge into the road and come rapidly towardthem. They were a wild-looking crew, mounted on tough mountain ponies, all of them carrying loot, and all armed heavily. 

The sergeant threw up his rifle, and with a steady hand aimed straightat Skelly's heart. 

"Halt!" he cried sharply, "and tell me who you are!"

The whole crew seemed to reel back except Skelly, who, though stoppinghis horse, remained in the center of the road. 

"What do you mean?" he cried. "We're peaceful travelers. What businessis it of yours who we are?"

"Judgin' by your looks you're not peaceful travelers at all. Besidesthese ain't peaceful times an' we take the right to demand who you are. If you come on another foot, I shoot. "

The sergeant's tones were sharp with resolve. 

"Your name!" he continued. 

"Ramsdell, David Ramsdell, " replied the leader of the band. 

"That's a lie, " said Sergeant Whitley. "Your name is Bill Skelly, an'you're a mountaineer from Eastern Kentucky, claimin' to belong first toone side and then to the other as suits you. "

"Who says so?" exclaimed Skelly defiantly. 

The sergeant beckoned Dick, who rode forward a little. 

"I do, " said the boy in a loud, clear voice. "My name is Dick Mason, and I live at Pendleton in Kentucky. I saw you more than once before thewar, and I know that you tried to burn down the house of Colonel Kentonthere, and kill him and his friends. I'm on the other side, but I'm notfor such things as that. "

Skelly distinctly saw Dick sitting on his horse in the pass, and he knewhim well. Rage tore at his heart. Although on "the other side" this boy, too, was a lowlander and in a way a member of that vile Kenton brood. Hehated him, too, because he belonged to those who had more of prosperityand education than himself. But Skelly was a man of resource and not acoward. 

"You're right, " he cried, "I'm Bill Skelly, an' we want your horses an'arms. We need 'em in our business. Now, just hop down an' deliver. We'retwenty to three. "

"You come forward at your own risk!" cried the sergeant, and Skelly, despite the numbers at his back, wavered. He saw that the man who heldthe rifle aimed at his heart had nerves of steel, and he did not dareadvance knowing that he would be shot at once from the saddle. A victorywon by Skelly's men with Skelly dead was no victory at all to Skelly. 

The guerilla reined back his horse, and his men retreated with him. Butthe three knew well that it was no withdrawal. The mountaineers rodeamong some scrub that grew between the road and the cliff; and Whitleyexclaimed to his two comrades:

"Come boys, we must ride for it! It's our business to get back with thedispatches to Colonel Newcomb as soon as possible, an' not let ourselvesbe delayed by this gang. "

"That is certainly true, " said Dick. "Lead on, Mr. Petty, and we'llcross the mountain as fast as we can. "

Red Blaze started at once in a gallop, and Dick and the sergeantfollowed swiftly after. But Sergeant Whitley held his cocked rifle inhand and he cast many backward glances. A great shout came from Skellyand his band when they saw the three take to flight, and the sergeant'sface grew grimmer as the sound reached his ears. 

"Keep right in the middle of the road, boys, " he said. "We can't affordto have our horses slip. I'll hang back just a little and send in abullet if they come too near. This rifle of mine carries pretty far, farther, I expect, than any of theirs. "

"I'm somethin' on the shoot myself, " said Red Blaze. "I love peace, butit hurts my feelin's if anybody shoots at me. Them fellers are likelyto do it, an' me havin' a rifle in my hands I won't be able to stop thetemptation to fire back. "

As he spoke the raiders fired. There was a crackling of rifles, littlecurls of blue smoke rose in the pass, and bullets struck on the frozenearth, while two made the snow fly from bushes by the side of the road. The sergeant raised his own rifle, longer of barrel than the averagearmy weapon, and pulled the trigger. He had aimed at Skelly, but theleader swerved, and a man behind him rolled off his horse. The others, although slowing their speed a little, in order to be out of the rangeof that deadly rifle, continued to come. 

The pursuit at first seemed futile to Dick, because they would soondescend into Townsville's valley, and the raiders could not follow theminto the midst of an entire regiment. But presently he saw their plan. The pass now widened out with a few hundred yards of level space oneither side of the road thickly covered with forest. The branches of thetrees were bare, but the undergrowth was so dense that horsemen could behidden in it. Bands of the raiders darted into the woods both to rightand left, and he knew that advancing on a straight line one or theother of the parties expected to catch the fugitives who must follow thecurves of the road. 

The advantage of the pursuit was soon shown as a shot from the rightwhistled by them. Red Blaze, quick as lightning, fired at the flash ofthe rifle. 

"I don't know whether I hit him or not, " he said, judicially, "but thechances are pow'ful good that I did. Still it looks as if they meant tohang on an' likely we kin soon expect shots from the other side, too. Then if they know the country as well as they 'pear to do they'll haveus clamped in a vise. "

As he spoke his eyes twinkled cheerfully out of his flaming countenance. 

"You certainly seem to take it easy, " said Dick. 

"I take it easy, 'cause the jaws of that vise ain't goin' to clamp down. Bein' somewhat interested in a run for your life you haven't noticed howdark it's gettin' up here on the heights an' how hard it's snowin'. It'scomin' down a lot thicker than it was when we crossed the first time. "

It was true. Dick noticed now that the snow was pouring down, and thatall the peaks and ridges were lost in the white whirlwind. 

"I told you that I had been a traveler, " said Red Blaze. "I've been asfar as fifty miles from Townsville, and I know all the country in everydirection, twenty miles from it, inch by inch. Inside five minutes thesnowstorm will be on us full blast, an' we won't be able to see more'ntwenty yards away. An' that crowd that's follerin' won't be able to seeeither. An' me knowin' the ground inch by inch I'll take you straightback to your regiment while they'll get lost in the storm. "

There was room now in the road for the three to ride abreast, and theykept close together. They heard once a shout behind them and saw theflash of a firearm in the white hurricane, but no bullet struck them, and they kept steadily on their course, Red Blaze directing with thesure instinct that comes of long use and habit. 

Heavier and heavier grew the snow. There was but little wind now, and itcame straight down. It seemed to Dick that the whole earth wasblotted out by the white fall. He and the sergeant resigned themselvescompletely to the guidance of Red Blaze, who never veered an inch fromthe right path. 

"If I didn't know the way my hoss would, " he said. "I'd just give himhis head an' he'd take us straight to his warm stable in Townsville, an'the two bundles of oats that I mean to give him. I reckon it was prettysmart of me, wasn't it, to order a snowstorm an' have it come just whenit was needed. "

Again the cheerful eyes twinkled in the flaming face. 

"You're certainly a winner, " said Dick, "and you win for us all. "

The snow was now so deep in the pass that they could not proceed atgreat speed, but they did the best they could, and, as Red Blaze said, their best, although it might be somewhat slow, was certainly betterthan that of Skelly and his men. Dick believed in fact that the raidershad been compelled to abandon the pursuit. 

When they reached a lower level, where the snow was far less dense, theystopped and listened. The sergeant's ears had been trained to uncommonkeenness by his life on the plains, and he could hear nothing but thesigh of the falling snow. Nor could Petty, who had fine ears himself. 

They descended still further, and made another stop. It was snowing herealso, but it was merely an ordinary fall, and they could get a long viewback up the pass. They saw nothing there but earth and trees coveredwith snow. Looking in the other direction they saw the sunshine gleamingfor a moment on a roof in Townsville. 

"We're all safe now, " said Red Blaze, "an' we'll be with the soldiers inanother half hour. But just you two remember that mebbe the next time Icouldn't call up a snowstorm to cover us an' save our lives. "

"Once is enough, " said Dick, "and, Mr. Petty, Sergeant Whitley and Iwant to thank you. "

Mittened hands met buckskinned ones in the strong grasp of friendship, and now, as they rode on, the whole village emerged into sight. Therewas the long train standing on the track, the smoke rising in spiresfrom the neat houses, and then the figures of human beings. 

The fall of snow was light in the valley and as soon as they reachedthe levels the three proceeded at a gallop. Dick saw Colonel Newcombstanding by the train, and springing from his horse he handed him thedispatch. The colonel opened it, and as he read Dick saw the glow appearupon his face. 

"Fire up!" he said to Canby, the engineer, who stood near. "We start atonce!"

The troops who were ready and waiting were hurried into the coaches, andthe engine whistled for departure. 

CHAPTER V. THE SINGER OF THE HILLS

As the engine whistled for the last time Dick sprang upon a car-step, one hand holding to the rail while with the other he returned thepowerful grip of Red Blaze, who with his own unconfined hand grasped thebridles of the three horses, which had served them so well. Petty hadreceived a reward thrust upon him by Colonel Newcomb, but Dick knewthat the mountaineer's chief recompense was the success achieved in theperilous task chosen for him. 

"Good-bye, Mr. Mason, " said Red Blaze, "I'm proud to have knowed you an'the sergeant, an' to have been your comrade in a work for the Union. "

"Without you we should have failed. "

"It jest happened that I knowed the way. It seems to me that there'sa heap, a tremenjeous heap, in knowin' the way. It gives you an awfuladvantage. Now you an' your regiment are goin' down thar in themKentucky mountains. They're mighty wild, winter's here an' the marchin'will be about as bad as it could be. Them's mostly Pennsylvania men withyou, an' they don't know a thing 'bout that thar region. Like as notyou'll be walkin' right straight into an ambush, an' that'll be the endof you an' them Pennsylvanians. "

"You're a cheerful prophet, Red Blaze. "

"I meant if you didn't take care of yourselves an' keep a good lookout, which I know, of course, that you're goin' to do. I was jest statin'the other side of the proposition, tellin' what would happen to keerlesspeople, but Colonel Newcomb an' Major Hertford ain't keerless people. Good-bye, Mr. Mason. Mebbe I'll see you ag'in before this war is over. "

"Good-bye, Red Blaze. I truly hope so. "

The train was moving now and with a last powerful grasp of a friendlyhand Dick went into the coach. It was the first in the train. ColonelNewcomb and Major Hertford sat near the head of it, and Warner was justsitting down not far behind them. Dick took the other half of the seatwith the young Vermonter, who said, speaking in a whimsical tone:

"You fill me with envy, Dick. Why wasn't it my luck to go with you, Sergeant Whitley, and the man they call Red Blaze on that errand andhelp bring back with you the message of President Lincoln? But I heardwhat our red friend said to you at the car-step. There's a powerful lotin knowing the way, knowing where you're going, and what's along everyinch of the road. My arithmetic tells me that it is often fifty per centof marching and fighting. "

"I think you are right, " said Dick. 

A little later he was sound asleep in his seat, and at the command ofColonel Newcomb he was not disturbed. His had been a task, taxing to theutmost both body and mind, and, despite his youth and strength, it wouldtake nature some time to replace what had been worn away. 

He slept on while the boys in the train talked and laughed. Sterndiscipline was not yet enforced in either army, nor did Colonel Newcombconsider it necessary here. These lads, so lately from the schoolsand farms, had won a victory and they had received the thanks of thePresident. They had a right to talk about it among themselves and alittle vocal enthusiasm now might build up courage and spirit for agreater crisis later. 

The colonel, moreover, gave glances of approval and sympathy to hisgallant young aide, who in the seat next to the window with his headagainst the wall slept so soundly. All the afternoon Dick slept on, hisbreathing regular and steady. The train rattled and rumbled through thehigh mountains, and on the upper levels the snow was falling fast. 

Darkness came, and supper was served to the troops, but at the colonel'scommand Dick was not awakened. Nature had not yet finished her task ofrepairing. There was worn tissue still to be replaced, and the nerveshad not yet recovered their full steadiness. 

So Dick slept on, while the night deepened and the snow continued todrive against the window panes. Nor did he awake until morning, when thetrain stopped at a tiny station in the hills. There was no snow here, but the sun, just rising, threw no heat, and icicles were hanging fromevery cliff. Dispatches were waiting for Colonel Newcomb, and afterbreakfast he announced to his staff:

"I have orders from Washington to divide my regiment. The Southernforces are operating at three points in Kentucky. They are gathering atColumbus on the Mississippi, at Bowling Green in the south, and herein the mountains there is a strong division under an officer namedZollicoffer. Scattered forces of our men, the principal one led by aVirginian named Thomas, are endeavoring to deal with Zollicoffer. TheSecretary of War regrets the division of the regiment, but he thinks itnecessary, as all our detached forces must be strengthened. I go on withthe main body of the regiment to join Grant, near the mouth of the Ohio. You, Major Hertford, will take three companies and march south in searchof Thomas, but be careful that you are not snapped up by the rebels onthe way. And if you can get volunteers and join Thomas with your forceincreased threefold, so much the better. "

"I shall try my best, sir, " said Major Hertford, "and thank you for thishonor. "

Dick and Warner stood by without a word, but Dick cast an appealing lookat Colonel Newcomb. 

"Yes, I know, " said the Colonel, who caught the glance. "This is yourstate, and you wish to go with Major Hertford. You are to do so. So isyour friend, Lieutenant Warner, and, Major Hertford, I also lend to youSergeant Whitley, who is a man of much experience and who has alreadyproved himself to be of great value. "

The three saluted and were grateful. They longed for action, which theybelieved would come more quickly with Major Hertford's column. A littlelater, when military form permitted it, the two boys thanked ColonelNewcomb in words. 

"Maybe you won't thank me a few days from now, " said the colonel alittle grimly, "but I am hopeful that our plans here in Eastern Kentuckywill prove successful, and that before long you will be able to join thegreat forces in the western part of the state. You are both good boysand now, good-bye. "

The preparations for the mountain column, as Dick and Warner soon calledit, had been completed. They were on foot, but they were well armed, well clothed, and they had supplies loaded in several wagons, purchasedhastily in the village. A dozen of the strong mountaineers volunteeredto be drivers and guides, and the major was glad to have them. Later, several horses were secured for the officers, but, meanwhile, the trainwas ready to depart. 

Colonel Newcomb waved them farewell, the faithful and valiant Canbyopened the throttle, and the train steamed away. The men in the littlecolumn, although eager for their new task, watched its departure with acertain sadness at parting with their comrades. The train became smallerand smaller, then it was only a spiral of smoke, and that, too, soondied on the clear western horizon. 

"And now to find Thomas!" said Major Hertford, who retained Dick andWarner on his staff, practically its only members, in fact. "It looksodd to hunt through the mountains for a general and his army, but we'vegot it to do, and we'll do it. "

The horses for the officers were obtained at the suggestion of SergeantWhitley, and the little column turned southward through the wintryforest. Dick and Warner were riding strong mountain ponies, but attimes, and in order to show that they considered themselves no betterthan the others, they dismounted and walked over the frozen ground. The greatest tasks were with the wagons containing the ammunition andsupplies. The mountain roads were little more than trails, sometimeshalf blocked with ice or snow and then again deep in mud. The winterwas severe. Storms of rain, hail, sleet and snow poured upon them, but, fortunately, they were marching through continuous forests, and theskilled mountaineers, under any circumstances, knew how to build fires, by the side of which they could dry themselves, and sleep warmly atnight. 

They also heard much gossip as they advanced to meet General Thomas, who had been sent from Louisville to command the Northern troops in theKentucky mountains. Thomas was a Virginian, a member of the old regulararmy, a valiant, able, and cautious man, who chose to abide by theUnion. Many other Virginians, some destined to be as famous as he, anda few more so, wondered why he had not gone with his seceding state, andcriticised him much, but Thomas, chary of speech, hung to his belief, and proved it by action. 

Dick learned, too, that the Southern force operating against Thomas, while actively led by Zollicoffer, was under the nominal command ofone of his own Kentucky Crittendens. Here he saw again how terriblyhis beloved state was divided, like other border states. GeneralCrittenden's father was a member of the Federal Congress at Washington, and one of his brothers was a general also, but on the other side. Buthe was to see such cases over and over again, and he was to see them toa still greater and a wholesale degree, when the First Maryland regimentof the North and the First Maryland regiment of the South, recruitedfrom the same district, should meet face to face upon the terrible fieldof Antietam. 

But Antietam was far in the future, and Dick's mind turned from thecases of brother against brother to the problems of the icy wildernessthrough which they were moving, in a more or less uncertain manner. Sometimes they were sent on false trails, but their loyal mountaineersbrought them back again. They also found volunteers, and MajorHertford's little force swelled from three hundred to six hundred. Inthe main, the mountaineers were sympathetic, partly through devotionto the Union, and partly through jealousy of the more prosperouslowlanders. 

One day Major Hertford sent Dick, Warner, and Sergeant Whitley, aheadto scout. He had recognized the ability of the two lads, and also theirgreat friendship for Sergeant Whitley. It seemed fitting to him thatthe three should be nearly always together, and he watched them withconfidence, as they rode ahead on the icy mountain trail and thendisappeared from sight. 

Dick and his friends had learned, at mountain cabins which they hadpassed, that the country opened out further on into a fine littlevalley, and when they reached the crest of a hill somewhat higher thanthe others, they verified the truth of the statement. Before them laythe coziest nook they had yet seen in the mountains, and in the centerof it rose a warm curl of smoke from the chimney of a house, muchsuperior to that of the average mountaineer. The meadows and corn landson either side of a noble creek were enclosed in good fences. Everythingwas trim and neat. 

The three rode down the slope toward the house, but halfway to thebottom they reined in their ponies and listened. Some one was singing. On the thin wintry air a deep mellow voice rose and they distinctlyheard the words:

 Soft o'er the fountain, ling'ring falls the southern moon, Far o'er the mountain breaks the day too soon. In thy dark eyes' splendor, where the warm light loves to dwell, Weary looks yet tender, speak their fond farewell. 'Nita, Juanita! Ask thy soul if we should part, 'Nita, Juanita! Lean thou on my heart. 

It was a wonderful voice that they heard, deep, full, and mellow, allthe more wonderful because they heard it there in those lone mountains. The ridges took up the echo, and gave it back in tones softened butexquisitely haunting. 

The three paused and looked at one another. They could not see thesinger. He was hidden from them by the dips and swells of the valley, but they felt that here was no common man. No common mind, or at leastno common heart, could infuse such feeling into music. As they listenedthe remainder of the pathetic old air rose and swelled through theridges:

 When in thy dreaming, moons like these shall shine again, And daylight beaming prove thy dreams are vain, Wilt thou not, relenting, for thy absent lover sigh? In thy heart consenting to a prayer gone by! 'Nita, Juanita! Let me linger by thy side! 'Nita, Juanita! Be thou my own fair bride. 

"I'm curious to see that singer, " said Warner. "I heard grand opera oncein Boston, just before I started to the war, but I never heard anythingthat sounds finer than this. Maybe time and place help to the extent offifty per cent, but, at any rate, the effect is just the same. "

"Come on, " said Dick, "and we'll soon find our singer, whoever he is. "

The three rode at a rapid pace until they reached the valley. Therethey drew rein, as they saw near them a tall man, apparently aboutforty years of age, mending a fence, helped by a boy of heavy build andpowerful arms. The man glanced up, saw the blue uniforms worn by thethree horsemen, and went peacefully on with his fence-mending. He alsocontinued to sing, throwing his soul into the song, and both work andsong proceeded as if no one was near. 

He lifted the rails into place with mighty arms, but never ceased tosing. The boy who helped him seemed almost his equal in strength, but heneither sang nor spoke. Yet he smiled most of the time, showing rows ofexceedingly strong, white teeth. 

"They seem to me to be of rather superior type, " said Dick. "Maybe wecan get useful information from them. "

"I judge that the singer will talk about almost everything except whatwe want to know, " said the shrewd and experienced sergeant, "but we cancertainly do no harm by speaking to him. Of course they have seen us. Nodoubt they saw us before we saw them. "

The three rode forward, saluted politely and the fence-menders, stopping their work, saluted in the same polite fashion. Then they stoodexpectant. 

"We belong to a detachment which is marching southward to join the Unionarmy under General Thomas, " said Dick. "Perhaps you could tell us thebest road. "

"I might an' ag'in I mightn't, stranger. If you don't talk much younever have much to take back. If I knew where that army is it wouldbe easy for me to tell you, but if I didn't know I couldn't. Now, thequestion is, do I know or don't I know? Do you think you can decide itfor me stranger?"

It was impossible for Dick or the sergeant to take offense. The man'sgaze was perfectly frank and open and his eyes twinkled as he spoke. The boy with him smiled widely, showing both rows of his powerful whiteteeth. 

"We can't decide it until we know you better, " said Dick in a lighttone. 

"I'm willin' to tell you who I am. My name is Sam Jarvis, an' thislunkhead here is my nephew, Ike Simmons, the son of my sister, who keepsmy house. Now I want to tell you, young stranger, that since this warbegan and the Yankees and the Johnnies have taken a notion to shoot upone another, people who would never have thought of doin' it before, have come wanderin' into these mountains. But you can get a hint about'em sometimes. Young man, do you want me to tell you your name?"

"Tell me my name!" responded Dick in astonishment. "Of course you can'tdo it! You never saw or heard of me before. "

"Mebbe no, " replied Jarvis, with calm confidence, "but all the sameyour name is Dick Mason, and you come from a town in Kentucky calledPendleton. You've been serving with the Yanks in the East, an' you've acousin, named Harry Kenton, who's been servin' there also, but with theJohnnies. Now, am I a good guesser or am I just a plum' ignorant fool?"

Dick stared at him in deepening amazement. 

"You do more than guess, " he replied. "You know. Everything that yousaid is true. "

"Tell me this, " said Jarvis. "Was that cousin of yours, Harry Kenton, killed in the big battle at Bull Run? I've been tremenjeously anxiousabout him ever since I heard of that terrible fight. "

"He was not. I have not seen him since, but I have definite news nowthat he passed safely through the battle. "

Sam Jarvis and his nephew Ike breathed deep sighs of relief. 

"I'm mighty glad to hear it, " said Jarvis, "I shorely liked that boy, Harry, an' I think I'll like you about as well. It don't matter to methat you're on different sides, bein' as I ain't on any side at allmyself, nor is this lunkhead, Ike, my nephew. "

"How on earth did you know me?"

"'Light, an' come into the house an' I'll tell you. You an' yourpardners look cold an' hungry. There ain't danger of anybody taking yourhosses, 'cause you can hitch 'em right at the front door. Besides, I'vegot an old grandmother in the house, who'd like mighty well to see you, Mr. Mason. "

Dick concluded that it was useless to ask any more questions just yet, and he, Warner and the sergeant, dismounting and leading their horses, walked toward the house with Jarvis and Ike. Jarvis, who seemedsingularly cheerful, lifted up his voice and sang:

 Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie, Like a flower, thy spirit did depart, Thou art gone, alas! like the many That have bloomed in the summer of my heart. Shall we never more behold thee? Never hear thy winning voice again? When the spring time comes, gentle Annie? When the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain?

It seemed to Dick that the man sang spontaneously, and the deep, mellowvoice always came back in faint and dying echoes that moved him ina singular manner. All at once the war with its passions and carnagefloated away. Here was a little valley fenced in from the battle-worldin which he had been living. He breathed deeply and as the eyes ofJarvis caught his a sympathetic glance passed between them. 

"Yes, " said Jarvis, as if he understood completely, "the war goes aroundus. There is nothing to fight about here. But come into the house. This is my sister, the mother of that lunkhead, Ike, and here is mygrandmother. "

He paused before the bent figure of an old, old woman, sitting in arocking chair beside the chimney, beside which a fire glowed and blazed. Her chin rested on one hand, and she was staring into the coals. 

"Grandmother, " said Jarvis very gently, "the great-grandson of thegreat Henry Ware that you used to know was here last spring, and now thegreat-grandson of his friend, Paul Cotter, has come, too. "

The withered form straightened and she stood up. Fire came into the old, old eyes that regarded Dick so intently. 

"Aye, " she said, "you speak the truth, grandson. It is Paul Cotter's ownface. A gentle man he was, but brave, and the greatest scholar. I shouldhave known that when Henry Ware's great-grandson came Paul Cotter's, too, would come soon. I am proud for this house to have sheltered youboth. "

She put both her hands on his shoulders, and stood up very straight, her face close to his. She was a tall woman, above the average height ofman, and her eyes were on a level with Dick's. 

"It is true, " she said, "it is he over again. The eyes are his, and themouth and the nose are the same. This house is yours while you chooseto remain, and my grandchildren and my great-grandson will do for youwhatever you wish. "

Dick noticed that her grammar and intonation were perfect. Many of theVirginians and Marylanders who emigrated to Kentucky in that far-offborder time were people of cultivation and refinement. 

After these words of welcome she turned from him, sat down in her chairand gazed steadily into the coals. Everything about her seemed to floataway. Doubtless her thoughts ran on those dim early days, when theIndians lurked in the canebrake and only the great borderers stoodbetween the settlers and sure death. 

Dick began to gather from the old woman's words a dim idea of what hadoccurred. Harry Kenton must have passed there, and as they went intothe next room where food and coffee were placed before them, Jarvisexplained. 

"Your cousin, Harry Kenton, came through here last spring on his way toVirginia, " he said. "He came with me an' this lunkhead, Ike, all theway from Frankfort and mostly up the Kentucky River. Grandmother wasdreaming and she took him at first for Henry Ware, his very self. Shesaluted him and called him the great governor. It was a wonderful thingto see, and it made me feel just a little bit creepy for a second ortwo. Mebbe you an' your cousin, Harry Kenton, are Henry Ware an' PaulCotter, their very selves come back to earth. It looks curious that bothof you should wander to this little place hid deep in the mountains. Butit's happened all the same. I s'pose you've just been moved 'round thatway by the Supreme Power that's bigger than all of us, an' that shiftsus about to suit plans made long ago. But how I'm runnin' on! Fall to, friends--I can't call you strangers, an' eat an' drink. The winterair on the mountains is powerful nippin' an' your blood needs warmin'often. "

The boys and the sergeant obeyed him literally and with energy. Jarvissat by approvingly, taking an occasional bite or drink with them. Meanwhile they gathered valuable information from him. A Northerncommander named Garfield had defeated the Southern forces under HumphreyMarshall in a smart little battle at a place called Middle Creek. Dickknew this Humphrey Marshall well. He lived at Louisville and was a greatfriend of his uncle, Colonel Kenton. He had been a brilliant and daringcavalry officer in the Mexican War, doing great deeds at BuenaVista, but now he was elderly and so enormously stout that he lackedefficiency. 

Jarvis added that after their defeat at Middle Creek the Southerners hadgathered their forces on or near the Cumberland River about Mill Springand that they had ten thousand men. Thomas with a strong Northern force, coming all the way from the central part of the state, was already deepin the mountains, preparing to meet him. 

"Remember, " said Jarvis, "that I ain't takin' no sides in this warmyself. If people come along an' ask me to tell what I know I tell it to'em, be they Yank or Reb. Now, I wish good luck to you, Mr. Mason, an' Iwish the same to your cousin, Mr. Kenton. "

Dick, Warner and the sergeant finished the refreshments and rose forthe return journey. They thanked Jarvis, and when they saw that he wouldtake no pay, they did not insist, knowing that it would offend him. Dick said good-bye to the ancient woman and once again she rose, put herhands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. 

"Paul Cotter was a good man, " she said, "and you who have his blood inyour veins are good, too. I can see it in something that lies back inyour eyes. "

She said not another word, but sat down in the chair and stared oncemore into the coals, dreaming of the far day when the great bordererssaved her and others like her from the savages, and thinking little ofthe mighty war that raged at the base of her hills. 

The boys and the sergeant rode fast on the return trail. They knew thatMajor Hertford would push forward at all speed to join Thomas, whom theycould now locate without much difficulty. Jarvis and Ike had resumedtheir fence-mending, but when the trees hid the valley from them amighty, rolling song came to the ears of Dick, Warner and the sergeant:

 They bore him away when the day had fled, And the storm was rolling high, And they laid him down in his lonely bed By the light of an angry sky. The lightning flashed, and the wild sea lashed The shore with its foaming wave, And the thunder passed on the rushing blast As it howled o'er the rover's grave. 

"That man's no fool, " said Dick. 

"No, he ain't, " said the sergeant, with decision, "nor is that nephewIke of his that he calls a lunkhead. Did you notice, Mr. Mason, that theboy never spoke a word while we was there? Them that don't say anythingnever have anything to take back. "

They rode hard now, and soon reached Major Hertford with their news. Onthe third day thereafter they entered a strong Union camp, commandedby a man named Garfield, the young officer who had won the victory atMiddle Creek. 

CHAPTER VI. MILL SPRING

Garfield's camp was on a little group of hills in a very strongposition, and his men, flushed with victory, were eager for anotherencounter with the enemy. They had plenty of good tents to fend themfrom the winter weather which had often been bitter. Throughout the campburned large fires for which they had an almost unbroken wilderness tofurnish fuel. The whole aspect of the place was pleasing to the men whohad marched far and hard. 

Major Hertford and his aides, Richard Mason and George Warner, were received in Colonel Garfield's tent. A slim young man, writingdispatches at a rude little pine table, rose to receive them. He did notseem to Dick to be more than thirty, and he had the thin, scholarly faceof a student. His manner was attractive, he shook hands warmly with allthree of them and said:

"Reinforcements are most welcome indeed. My own work here seems to belargely done, but you will reach General Thomas in another day, and heneeds you. Take my chair, Major Hertford. To you two lads I can offeronly stumps. "

The tent had been pitched over a spot where three stumps had beensmoothed off carefully until they made acceptable seats. One end ofthe tent was entirely open, facing a glowing fire of oak logs. Dick andWarner sat down on the stumps and spread out their hands to the blaze. Beyond the flames they saw the wintry forest and mountains, seemingly aswild as they were when the first white man came. 

The usual coffee and food were brought, and while they ate and drankMajor Hertford answered the numerous and pertinent questions of ColonelGarfield. He listened attentively to the account of the fight in themountains, and to all the news that they could tell him of Washington. 

"We have been cut off in these mountains, " he said. "I know very littleof what is going on, but what you say only confirms my own opinion. Thewar is rapidly spreading over a much greater area, and I believe thatits scope will far exceed any of our earlier calculations. "

A grave and rather sad expression occupied for a moment the mobile face. He interested Dick greatly. He seemed to him scholar and thinker as wellas soldier. He and Warner long afterward attended the inauguration ofthis man as President of the United States. 

After a brief rest, and good wishes from Garfield, Major Hertford andhis command soon reached the main camp under Thomas. Here they werereceived by a man very different in appearance and manner from Garfield. 

General George H. Thomas, who was to receive the famous title, "The Rockof Chickamauga, " was then in middle years. Heavily built and bearded, hewas chary of words. He merely nodded approval when Major Hertford toldof their march. 

"I will assign your troops to a brigade, " he said, "and I don't thinkyou'll have long to wait. We're expecting a battle in a few days withCrittenden and Zollicoffer. "

"Not much to say, " remarked Dick to Warner, as they went away. 

"That's true, " said Warner, thoughtfully, "but didn't you get animpression of strength from his very silence? I should say that in hismake-up he is five per cent talk, twenty-five per cent patience andseventy per cent action; total, one hundred per cent. "

The region in which they lay was west of the higher mountains, whichthey had now crossed, but it was very rough and hilly. Not far from themwas a little town called Somerset, which Dick had visited once, and nearby, too, was the deep and swift Cumberland River, with much floating iceat its edges. When the two lads lay by a campfire that night SergeantWhitley came to them with the news of the situation, which he had pickedup in his usual deft and quiet way. 

"The Southern army is on the banks of the Cumberland, " he said. "Ithas not been able to get its provisions by land through Cumberland Gap. Instead they have been brought by boats on the river. As I hear it, Crittenden and Zollicoffer are afraid that our general will advance tothe river an' cut off these supplies. So they mean to attack us as soonas they can. If I may venture to say so, Mr. Mason, I'd advise that youand Lieutenant Warner get as good a rest as you can, and as soon as youcan. "

They ate a hearty supper and being told by Major Hertford that theywould not be wanted until the next day, they rolled themselves in heavyblankets, and, pointing their feet toward a good fire, slept on theground. The night was very cold, because it was now the middle ofJanuary, but the blankets and fire kept them warm. 

Dick did not fall to sleep for some time, because he knew that he wasgoing into battle again in a few days. He was on the soil of his nativestate now. He had already seen many Kentuckians in the army of Thomasand he knew that they would be numerous, too, in that of Crittendenand Zollicoffer. To some extent it would be a battle of brother againstbrother. He was glad that Harry Kenton was in the east. He did not wishin the height of battle to see his own cousin again on the oppositeside. 

But when he did fall asleep his slumber was sound and restful, and hewas ready and eager the next morning, when the sergeant, Warner, and hewere detached for duty in a scouting party. 

"The general has asked that you be sent owing to your experience in themountains, " said Major Hertford, "and I have agreed gladly. I hope thatyou're as glad as I am. "

"We are, sir, " said the two boys together. The sergeant stood quietly byand smiled. 

The detachment numbered a hundred men, all young, strong, and wellmounted. They were commanded by a young captain, John Markham, in whomDick recognized a distant relative. In those days nearly all Kentuckianswere more or less akin. The kinship was sufficient for Markham to keepthe two boys on either side of him with Sergeant Whitley just behind. Markham lived in Frankfort and he had marched with Thomas from thecantonments at Lebanon to their present camp. 

"John, " said Dick, addressing him familiarly and in right of kinship, "you've been for months in our own county. You've surely heard somethingfrom Pendleton?"

He could not disguise the anxiety in his voice, and the young captainregarded him with sympathy. 

"I had news from there about a month ago, Dick, " he replied. "Yourmother was well then, as I have no doubt she is now. The place was nottroubled by guerillas who are hanging on the fringe of the armies herein Eastern, or in Southern and Western Kentucky. The war for the presentat least has passed around Pendleton. Colonel Kenton was at BowlingGreen with Albert Sidney Johnston, and his son, Harry, your cousin, isstill in the East. "

It was a rapid and condensed statement, but it was very satisfying toDick who now rode on for a long time in silence. The road was as bad asa road could be. Snow and ice were mixed with the deep mud which pulledhard at the hoofs of their horses. The country was rough, sterile, andinhabited but thinly. They rode many miles without meeting a singlehuman being. About the third hour they saw a man and a boy on a hillsideseveral hundred yards away, but when Captain Markham and a chosen fewgalloped towards them they disappeared so deftly among the woods thatnot a trace of them could be found. 

"People in this region are certainly bashful, " said Captain Markham witha vexed laugh. "We meant them no harm, but they wouldn't stay to seeus. "

"But they don't know that, " said Dick with the familiarity of kinship, even though distant. "I fancy that the people hereabouts wish bothNortherners and Southerners would go away. "

Two miles further on they came to a large, double cabin standing backa little distance from the road. Smoke was rising from the chimney, andCaptain Markham felt sure that they could obtain information from itsinmates. Dick, at his direction, beat on the door with the butt of asmall riding whip. There was no response. He beat again rapidly andheavily, and no answer coming he pushed in the door. 

A fire was burning on the hearth, but the house was abandoned. Nor hadthe owners been gone long. Besides the fire to prove it, clothingwas hanging on hooks in the wall, and there was food in the cupboard. Captain Markham sighed. 

"Again they're afraid of us, " he said. "I've no doubt the signal hasbeen passed ahead of us, and that we'll not get within speaking distanceof a single native. Curious, too, because this region in the main is forthe North. "

"Perhaps somebody has been robbing and plundering in our name, " saidDick. "Skelly and his raiders have been through these parts. "

"That's so, " said Markham, thoughtfully. "I'm afraid those guerillas whoclaim to be our allies are going to do us a great deal of harm. Well, we'll turn back into the road, if you can call this stream of icy mud aroad, and go on. "

Another mile and they caught the gleam of water among the wintry boughs. Dick knew that it was the Cumberland which was now a Southern artery, bringing stores and arms for the army of Crittenden and Zollicoffer. Even here, hundreds of miles from its mouth, it was a stream of greatdepth, easily navigable, and far down its current they saw faintly thesmoke of two steamers. 

"They bear supplies for the Southern army, " said Captain Markham. "Wecan cut off the passage of boats on this river and for that reason, soGeneral Thomas concludes, the Southern army is going to attack us. Whatdo you think of his reasoning, sergeant?"

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, for passin' an opinion upon my general, "replied Sergeant Whitley, "but I think his reasons are good. Here it isthe dead of winter, with more mud in the roads than I ever saw beforeanywhere, but there's bound to be a battle right away. Men will fight, sir, to keep from losin' their grub. "

A man rode forward from the ranks, saluted and asked leave to speak. He was a native of the next county and knew that region well. Two mileseast of them and running parallel with the road over which they had comewas another and much wider road, the one that they called the big road. 

"Which means, I suppose, that it contains more mud than this one, " saidCaptain Markham. 

"True, sir, " replied the man, "but if the rebel army is advancing it islikely to be on that road. "

"That is certainly sound logic. At least we'll go there and see. Can youlead us through these woods to it?"

"I can take you straight across, " replied the man whose name wasCarpenter. "But on the way we'll have to ford a creek which is likely tobe pretty deep at this time of the year. "

"Show the way, " said Captain Markham briskly. 

They plunged into the deep woods, and Carpenter guided them well. Thecreek, of which he had told, was running bankful of icy water, but theirhorses swam it and they kept straight ahead until Carpenter, who was alittle in advance, held up a warning hand. 

Captain Markham ordered his whole troop to stop and keep as quiet aspossible. Then he, Dick, Warner, Sergeant Whitley and Carpenter rodeslowly forward. Before they had gone many yards Dick heard the heavyclank of metal, the cracking of whips, the swearing of men, and thesound of horses' feet splashing in the mud. He knew by the amount andvariety of the noises that a great force was passing. 

They advanced a little further and reined into a clump of bushes whichdespite their lack of leaves were dense enough to shelter them fromobservation. As the bushes grew on a hillock they had a downward andgood look into the road, which was fairly packed with men in the gray ofthe Confederate army, some on horseback, but mostly afoot, their cannon, ammunition and supply wagons sinking almost to the hub in the mud. Asfar as Dick could see the gray columns extended. 

"There must be six or seven thousand men here, " he said to CaptainMarkham. 

"Undoubtedly, " replied Markham, "this is the main Confederate armyadvancing to attack ours, but the badness of the roads operates againstthe offense. We shall reach General Thomas with the word that they arecoming long before they are there. "

They watched the marching army for a half hour longer in order to besure of everything, and then turning they rode as fast as they couldtoward Thomas, elated at their success. They swam the creek again, butat another point. Carpenter told them that the Southern army would crossit on a bridge, and Markham lamented that he could not turn and destroythis bridge, but such an attempt would have been folly. 

They finally turned into the main road along which the Southern army wascoming, although they were now miles ahead of it, and, covered from headto foot with the red mud of the hills, they urged on their worn horsestoward the camp of Thomas. 

"I haven't had much experience in fighting, but I should imagine thatcomplete preparation had a great deal to do with success, " said CaptainMarkham. 

"I'd put it at sixty per cent, " said Warner. 

"I should say, " added Dick, "that the road makes at least eighty percent of our difficulty in getting back to Thomas. "

In fact, the road was so bad that they were compelled after a while toride into the woods and let their ponies rest. Here they were fired uponby Confederate skirmishers from a hill two or three hundred yards away. Their numbers were small, however, and Captain Markham's force chargingthem drove them off without loss. 

Then they resumed their weary journey, but the rest had not fullyrestored the horses and they were compelled at times to walk by the sideof the road, leading their mounts. Sergeant Whitley, with his age andexperience, was most useful now in restraining the impatient youngmen. Although of but humble rank he kept them from exhausting eitherthemselves or their horses. 

"It will be long after dark before we can reach camp, " said CaptainMarkham, sighing deeply. "Confound such roads. Why not call themmorasses and have done with it!"

"No, we can't make it much before midnight, " said Dick, "but, after all, that will be early enough. If I judge him right, even midnight won'tcatch General Thomas asleep. "

"You've judged him right, " said Markham. "I've been with 'Pap' Thomassome time--we call him 'Pap' because he takes such good care of us--andI think he is going to be one of the biggest generals in this war. Always silent, and sometimes slow about making up his mind he strikeslike a sledge-hammer when he does strike. "

"He'll certainly have the opportunity to give blow for blow, " said Dick, as he remembered that marching army behind them. "How far do you thinkit is yet to the general's camp?"

"Not more than a half dozen miles, but it will be dark in a few minutes, and at the rate we're going it will take us two full hours more to getthere. "

The wintry days were short and the sun slid down the gray, cold sky, leaving forest and hills in darkness. But the little band toiledpatiently on, while the night deepened and darkened, and a chill windwhistled down from the ridges. The officers were silent now, but theylooked eagerly for the first glimpse of the campfires of Thomas. Atlast they saw the little pink dots in the darkness, and then they pushedforward with new zeal, urging their weary horses into a run. 

When Captain Markham, Dick and Warner galloped into camp, ahead ofthe others, a thickset strong figure walked forward to meet them. Theyleaped from their horses and saluted. 

"Well?" said General Thomas. 

"The enemy is advancing upon us in full force, sir, " replied CaptainMarkham. 

"You scouted thoroughly?"

"We saw their whole army upon the road. "

"When do you think they could reach us?"

"About dawn, sir. "

"Very good. We shall be ready. You and your men have done well. Now, find food and rest. You will be awakened in time for the battle. "

Dick walked away with his friends. Troopers took their horses andcared for them. The boy glanced back at the thickset, powerful figure, standing by one of the fires and looking gravely into the coals. Morethan ever the man with the strong, patient look inspired confidencein him. He was sure now that they would win on the morrow. Markham andWarner felt the same confidence. 

"There's a lot in having a good general, " said Warner, who had alsoglanced back at the strong figure. "Do you remember, Dick, what it wasthat Napoleon said about generals?"

"A general is everything, an army nothing or something like that. "

"Yes, that was it. Of course, he didn't mean it just exactly as he saidit. A general can't be one hundred per cent and an army none. It was afigure of speech so to say, but I imagine that a general is about fortyper cent. If we had had such leadership at Bull Run we'd have won. "

Dick and Warner, worn out by their long ride, soon slept but there wasmovement all around them during the late hours of the night. Thomaswith his cautious, measuring mind was rectifying his lines in the wintrydarkness. He occupied a crossing of the roads, and he posted a strongbattery of artillery to cover the Southern approach. Around him were menfrom Kentucky, the mountains of Tennessee, Ohio, Indiana, and Minnesota. The Minnesota troops were sun-tanned men who had come more than athousand miles from an Indian-infested border to defend the Union. 

All through the night Thomas worked. He directed men with spades tothrow up more intrenchments. He saw that the guns of the battery wereplaced exactly right. He ordered that food should be ready for all veryearly in the morning, and then, when nothing more remained to be done, save to wait for the decree of battle, he sat before his tent wrappedin a heavy military overcoat, silent and watchful. Scouts had brought inadditional news that the Southern army was still marching steadily alongthe muddy roads, and that Captain Markham's calculation of its arrivalabout dawn would undoubtedly prove correct. 

Dick awoke while it was yet dark, and throwing off the heavy blanketsstood up. 

Although the dawn had not come, the night was now fairly light and Dickcould see a long distance over the camp which stretched to left andright along a great front. Near him was the battery with most of the mensleeping beside their guns, and not far away was the tent. Although hecould not see the general, he knew instinctively that he was not asleep. 

It was cold and singularly still, considering the presence of so manythousands of men. He did not hear the sound of human voices and therewas no stamp of horses' feet. They, too, were weary and resting. Then Dick was conscious of a tall, thin figure beside him. Warner hadawakened, too. 

"Dick, " he said, "it can't be more than an hour till dawn. "

"Just about that I should say. "

"And the scene, that is as far as we can see it, is most peaceful. "

Dick made no answer, but stood a long time listening. Then he said:

"My ears are pretty good, George, and sound will carry very far in thissilence just before the dawn. I thought I heard a faint sound like theclank of a cannon. "

"I think I hear it, too, " said Warner, "and here is the dawn closer athand than we thought. Look at those cold rays over there, behind thathill in the east. They are the vanguard of the sun. "

"So they are. And this is the vanguard of the Southern army!"

He spoke the last words quickly and with excitement. 

In front of them down the road they heard the crackle of a dozen rifleshots. The Southern advance undoubtedly had come into contact withthe Union sentinels and skirmishers. After the first shots there was amoment's breathless silence, and then came a scattered and rapid fire, as if at least a hundred rifles were at work. 

Dick's pulse began to beat hard, and he strained his eyes through thedarkness, but he could not yet see the enemy. He saw instead little jetsof fire like red dots appearing on the horizon, and then the sound ofthe rifles came again. Warner was with him and both stood by the side ofMajor Hertford, ready to receive and deliver his orders. Dick now heardbesides the firing in front the confused murmur and moving of the Unionarmy. 

Few of these troops had been in battle before--the same could be saidof the soldiers on the other side--and this attack in the half-lighttroubled them. They wished to see the men who were going to shoot atthem, in order that they might have a fair target in return. Fighting inthe night was scarcely fair. One never knew what to do. But Thomas, thefuture "Rock of Chickamauga, " was already showing himself a tower ofstrength. He reassured his nervous troops, he borrowed Dick and Warnerand sent them along the line with messages from himself that they hadnothing to do but stand firm and the victory was theirs. 

Meanwhile the line of red dots in front was lengthening. It stretchedfarther to left and right than Dick could see, and was rapidly comingnearer. Already the sentinels and skirmishers were waging a sharpconflict, and the shouts of the combatants increased in volume. Then thecold sun swung clear of the earth, and its wintry beams lighted up bothforest and open. The whole Southern army appeared, advancing in masses, and Dick, who was now with Major Hertford again, saw the pale raysfalling on rifles and bayonets, and the faces of his own countrymen asthey marched upon the Union camp. 

"There's danger for our army! Lots of it!" said Warner, as he watchedthe steady advance of the Southern brigades. 

Dick remembered Bull Run, but his thoughts ran back to the iron generalwho commanded now. 

"Thomas will save us, " he said. 

The skirmishers on both sides were driven in. Their scattered fireceased, but a moment later the whole front of the Southern army burstinto flame. It seemed to Dick that one vast sheet of light like a swordblade suddenly shot forward, and then a storm of lead, bearing manymessengers of death, beat upon the Northern army, shattering its frontlines and carrying confusion among its young troops. But the officersand a few old regulars like Sergeant Whitley steadied them and theyreturned the fire. 

Major Hertford, Dick and Warner were all on foot, and their own littleband, already tried in battle, yielded not an inch. They formed a coreof resistance around which others rallied and Thomas himself was passingalong the line, giving heart to the lads fresh from the farms. 

But the Southern army fired again, and shouting the long fierce rebelyell, charged with all its strength. Dick saw before him a vast cloudof smoke, through which fire flashed and bullets whistled. He heard menaround him uttering short cries of pain, and he saw others fall, mostlysinking forward on their faces. But those who stood, held fast andloaded and fired until the barrels of their rifles burned to the touch. 

Dick felt many tremors at first, but soon the passion of battle seizedhim. He carried no rifle, but holding his officer's small sword in hishand he ran up and down the line crying to the men to stand firm, thatthey would surely beat back the enemy. That film of fire and smoke wasyet before his eyes, but he saw through it the faces of his countrymenstill coming on. He heard to his right the thudding of the great gunsthat Thomas had planted on a low hill, but the rifle fire was like thebeat of hail, a crackling and hissing that never ceased. 

The farm lads, their rifles loaded afresh, fired anew at the enemy, almost in their faces, and the Southern line here reeled back against sofirm and deadly a front. 

But an alarming report ran down the line that their left was drivenback, and it was true. The valiant Zollicoffer leading his brigade inperson, had rushed upon this portion of the Northern army which wasstanding upon another low hill and struck it with great violence. It waswavering and would give way soon. But Thomas, showing the singular calmthat always marked him in battle, noticed the weak spot. The general wasthen near Major Hertford. He quickly wrote a dispatch and beckoned toDick:

"Here, " he said, "jump on the horse that the sergeant is holding for me, and bring up our reserve, the brigade under General Carter. They are tomeet the attack there on the hill, where our troops are wavering!"

Dick, aflame with excitement, leaped into the saddle, and while the roarof battle was still in his ears reached the brigade of Carter, alreadymarching toward the thick of the conflict. One entire regiment, composedwholly of Kentuckians, was detached to help the Indiana troops who werebeing driven fiercely by Zollicoffer. 

Dick rode at the head of the Kentuckians, but a bullet struck his horsein the chest. The boy felt the animal shiver beneath him, and he leapedclear just in time, the horse falling heavily and lying quite still. ButDick alighted on his feet, and still brandishing his sword, and shoutingat the top of his voice, ran on. 

In an instant they reached the Indiana troops, who turned with them, andthe combined forces hurled themselves upon the enemy. The Southerners, refusing to yield the ground they had gained, received them, and therebegan a confused and terrible combat, shoulder to shoulder and hand tohand. Elsewhere the battle continued, but here it raged the fiercest. Both commanders knew that they were to win or lose upon this hill, and they poured in fresh troops who swelled the area of conflict anddeepened its intensity. 

Dick saw Warner by his side, but he did not know how he had come there, and just beyond him the thick and powerful figure of Sergeant Whitleyshowed through the hot haze of smoke. The back of Warner's hand had beengrazed by a bullet. He had not noticed it himself, but the slowdrip, drip of the blood held Dick for a moment with a sort of hideousfascination. Then he broke his gaze violently away and turned it uponthe enemy, who were pouring upon them in all their massed strength. 

Thomas had sent the Kentuckians to the aid of the Indiana men just intime. The hill was a vast bank of smoke and fire, filled with whistlingbullets and shouts of men fighting face to face. Some one reeled andfell against Dick, and for a moment, he was in horror lest it should beWarner, but a glance showed him that it was a stranger. Then he rushedon again, filled with a mad excitement, waving his small sword, andshouting to the men to charge. 

From right to left the roar of battle came to his ears, but on the hillwhere he stood the struggle was at its height. The lines of Federals andConfederates, face to face at first, now became mixed, but neither sidegained. In the fiery struggle a Union officer, Fry, saw Zollicofferonly a few feet away. Snatching out his pistol he shot him dead. TheSoutherners seeing the fall of the general who was so popular among themhesitated and then gave back. Thomas, watching everything with keenand steady gaze, hurled an Ohio regiment from the right flank upon theSouthern center, causing it to give way yet further under the shock. 

"We win! We win!" shouted Dick in his ardor, as he saw the Southernline yielding. But the victory was not yet achieved. Crittenden, who wasreally Zollicoffer's superior in the command, displayed the most heroiccourage throughout the battle. He brought up fresh troops to help hisweakened center. He reformed his lines and was about to restore thebattle, but Thomas, silent and ever watchful, now rushed in a brigadeof Tennessee mountaineers, and as they struck with all their weight, thenew line of the South was compelled to give way. Success seen and feltfilled the veins of the soldiers with fresh fire. Dick and the men abouthim saw the whole Southern line crumble up before them. The triumphantUnion army rushed forward shouting, and the Confederates were forced togive way at all points. 

Dick and Warner, with the watchful sergeant near, were in the very frontof the advance. The two young aides carried away by success and thefire of battle, waved their swords continually and rushed at the enemy'slines. 

Dick's face was covered with smoke, his lips were burnt, and his throatwas raw from so much shouting. But he was conscious only of greatelation. "This is not another Bull Run!" he cried to Warner, and Warnercried back: "Not by a long shot!"

Thomas, still cool, watchful, and able to judge of results amid all thethunder and confusion of battle, hurried every man into the attack. He was showing upon this, his first independent field, all the greatqualities he was destined later to manifest so brilliantly in some ofthe greatest battles of modern times. 

The Southern lines were smashed completely by those heavy and continuousblows. Driven hard on every side they now retreated rapidly, and theirtriumphant enemies seized prisoners and cannon. 

The whole Confederate army continued its swift retreat until it reachedits intrenchments, where the officers rallied the men and turned to facetheir enemy. But the cautious Thomas stopped. He had no intention oflosing his victory by an attack upon an intrenched foe, and drew off forthe present. His army encamped out of range and began to attend to thewounded and bury the dead. 

Dick, feeling the reaction after so much exertion and excitement, satdown on a fallen tree trunk and drew long, panting breaths. He sawWarner near and remembered the blood that had been dripping from hishand. 

"Do you know that you are wounded, George?" he said. "Look at the backof your hand. "

Warner glanced at it and noticed the red stripe. It had ceased to bleed. 

"Now, that's curious, " he said. "I never felt it. My blood and brainwere both so hot that the flick of a bullet created no sensation. I havefigured it out, Dick, and I have concluded that seventy per cent of ourbravery in battle is excitement, leaving twenty per cent to will and tenper cent to chance. "

"I suppose your calculation is close enough. "

"It's not close merely. It's exact. "

Both sprang to their feet and saluted as Major Hertford approached. Hehad escaped without harm and he saw with pleasure that the lads werealive and well, except for Warner's slight wound. 

"You can rest now, boys, " he said, "I won't need you for some time. ButI can tell you that I don't think General Thomas means to quit. He willfollow up his victory. "

But Dick and Warner had been sure of that already. The army, flushedwith triumph, was eager to be led on, even to make a night attack on theintrenchments of the enemy, but Thomas held them, knowing that anotherbrigade of Northern troops was marching to his aid. The brigade came, but it was now dark and he would not risk a night attack. But some ofthe guns were brought up and they sent a dozen heavy cannon shot intothe intrenchments of the enemy. There was no reply and neither of theboys, although they strained ears, could hear anything in the defeatedcamp. 

"I shouldn't be surprised if we found them gone in the morning, " saidMajor Hertford to Dick. "But I think our general is right in not makingany attack upon their works. What do you say to that, Sergeant Whitley?You've had a lot of experience. "

Sergeant Whitley was standing beside them, also trying to pierce thedarkness with trained eyes, although he could not see the Confederateintrenchments. 

"If a sergeant may offer an opinion I agree with you fully, sir, " hesaid. "A night attack is always risky, an' most of all, sir, when troopsare new like ours, although they're as brave as anybody. More'n likelyif we was to rush on 'em our troops would be shootin' into one anotherin the darkness. "

"Good logic, " said Major Hertford, "and as it is quite certain that theyare not in any condition to come out and attack us we'll stand by andwait till morning. So the general orders. "

They walked back toward the place where the victorious troops werelighting the fires, out of the range of the cannon in the Confederateintrenchments. They were exultant, but they were not boasting unduly. Night, cold and dark, had shut down upon them and was taking the heatout of their blood. Hundreds of men were at work building fires, andDick and Warner, with the permission of Major Hertford, joined them. 

Both boys felt that the work would be a relief. Wood was to be had inabundance. The forest stretched on all sides of them in almost unbrokenmiles, and the earth was littered with dead wood fallen a year or yearsbefore. They merely kept away from the side on which the Confederateintrenchments lay, and brought in the wood in great quantities. A rowof lights a half mile long sprang up, giving forth heat and warmth. Then arose the cheerful sound of tin and iron dishes and cups rattlingagainst one another. A quarter of an hour later they were eating avictorious supper, and a little later most of them slept. 

But in the night the Confederate troops abandoned their camp, leaving init ten cannon and fifteen hundred wagons and crossed the river in boats, which they destroyed when they reached the other side. Then, theirdefeat being so severe, and they but volunteers, they scattered in themountains to seek food and shelter for the remainder of the winter. 

This army of the South ceased to exist. 

CHAPTER VII. THE MESSENGER

Victory, overwhelming and complete, had been won, but General Thomascould not follow into the deep mountains where his army might be cutoff. So he remained where he was for a little while and on the secondday he sent for Dick. 

The general was seated alone in a tent, an open end of which faced afire, as it was now extremely cold. General Thomas had shown no undueelation over his victory. He was as silent as ever, and now, as always, he made upon Dick the impression of strength and indomitable courage. 

"Sit down, " he said, waving his hand toward a camp stool. 

Dick, after saluting, sat down in silence. 

"I hear, " said the general, "that you behaved very well in the battle, and that you are a lad of courage and intelligence. Courage is common, intelligence, real intelligence, is rare. You were at Bull Run also, soI hear. "

"I was, and the army fought well there too, but late in the day it wasseized with a sudden panic. "

"Something that may happen at any time to raw troops. But we'll pass tothe question in hand. The campaign here in the mountains is ended forthis winter, but great matters are afoot further west. A courier arrivedlast night stating that General Grant and Commodore Foote were preparingto advance by water from Cairo, Illinois, and attempt the reduction ofthe Confederate forts on the Cumberland and Tennessee. General Buell, one of your own Kentuckians, is advancing southward with a strong Unionforce, and in a few days his outposts will be on Green River. It willbe of great advantage to Buell to know that the Confederate army in theeastern part of the state is destroyed. He can advance with freedom and, on the other hand, the Southern leader, Albert Sidney Johnston, will becompelled to throw a portion of his force to the eastward to protecthis flank which has been uncovered by our victory at Mill Spring. Do youunderstand?"

"I do, sir. "

"Then you are to carry dispatches of the utmost importance from me toGeneral Buell. After you reach his camp--if you reach it--you will, of course, be subject to his orders. I have learned that you know thecountry well between here and Green River. Because of that, and becauseof your intelligence, real intelligence, I mean, you are chosen for thistask. You are to change to citizen's clothes at once, and a horse ofgreat power and endurance has been selected for you. But you must useall your faculties all the time. I warn you that the journey is full ofdanger. "

"I can carry it out, " replied Dick with quiet confidence, "and I thankyou for choosing me. "

"I believe you will succeed, " said the general, who liked his tone. "Return here in an hour with all your preparations made, and I will giveyou the dispatches. "

Warner was filled with envy that his comrade was to go on a secretmission of great importance, but he generously wished him a full measureof success. 

"Remember, " he said, "that on an errand like yours, presence of mindcounts for at least fifty per cent. Have a quick tongue. Always be readywith a tale that looks true. "

"An' remember, too, " said Sergeant Whitley, "that however tight a placeyou get into you can get into one tighter. Think of that and it willencourage you to pull right out of the hole. "

The two wrung his hand and Major Hertford also gave him his warmestwishes. The horse chosen for him was a bay of tremendous power, and Dickknew that he would serve him well. He carried double blankets strappedto the saddle, pistols in holsters with another in his belt, anabundance of ammunition, and food for several days in his saddle bags. Then he returned to General Thomas, who handed him a thin strip oftissue paper. 

"It is written in indelible ink, " he said, "and it contains a statementof our forces and their positions here in the eastern part of the state. It also tells General Buell what reinforcements he can expect. If youare in imminent danger of capture destroy the paper, but to provide forsuch a chance, in case you escape afterward, I will read the dispatchesto you. "

He read them over several times and then questioned Dick. But the boy'smemory was good. In fact, every word of the dispatches was burnt intohis brain, and nothing could make him forget them. 

"And now, my lad, " said General Thomas, giving him his hand, "you mayhelp us greatly. I would not send a boy upon such an errand, but thedemands of war are terrible and must be obeyed. "

The strong grasp of the general's hand imparted fresh enthusiasm toDick, and for the present he did not have the slightest doubt thathe would get safely through. He wore a strong suit of home-made brownjeans, a black felt cap with ear-flaps, and high boots. The dispatch waspinned into a small inside pocket of his vest. 

He rode quickly out of camp, giving the sentinels the pass word, and thehead of the horse was pointed west slightly by north. The ground was nowfrozen and he did not have the mud to hold him back. 

The horse evidently had been longing for action. Such thews andsinews as his needed exercise. He stretched out his long neck, neighedjoyously, and broke of his own accord into an easy canter. It was alonely road, and Dick was glad that it was so. The fewer people he metthe better it was in every way for him. 

He shared the vigor and spirit of his horse. His breath turned tosmoke, but the cold whipped his blood into a quicker torrent. He hummedsnatches of the songs that he had heard Samuel Jarvis sing, and went onmile after mile through the high hills toward the low hills of Kentucky. 

Dick did not pass many people. The ancient name of his state--the Darkand Bloody Ground--came back to him. He knew that war in one of itsworst forms existed in this wild sweep of hills. Here the guerillasrode, choosing their sides as suited them best, and robbing as paid themmost. Nor did these rough men hesitate at murder. So he rode most of thetime with his hand on the butt of the pistol at his belt, and wheneverhe went through woods, which was most of the time, he kept a wary watchto right and to left. 

The first person whom he passed was a boy riding on a sack of grain tomill. Dick greeted him cheerfully and the boy with the fearlessness ofyouth replied in the same manner. 

"Any news your way?" asked Dick. 

"Nothin' at all, " replied the boy, his eyes enlarging with excitement, "but from the way you are comin' we heard tell there was a great battle, hundreds of thousands of men on each side an' that the Yankees won. Isit so, Mister?"

"It is true, " replied Dick. "A dozen people have told me of it, but thearmies were not quite so large as you heard. It is true also that theYankees won. "

"I'll tell that at the mill. It will be big news to them. An' which waybe you goin', Mister?" said the boy with all the frankness of the hills. 

"I'm on my way to the middle part of the state. I've been looking aftersome land that my people own in the mountains. Looks like a lonesomeroad, this. Will I reach any house soon?"

"Thar's Ben Trimble's three miles further on, but take my advice an'don't stop thar. Ben says he ain't goin' to be troubled in these wartimes by visitors, an' he's likely to meet you at the door with hisdouble-barreled shotgun. "

"I won't knock on Ben's door, so he needn't take down hisdouble-barreled shotgun. What's next beyond Ben's house?"

"A half mile further on you come to Hungry Creek. It ain't much in themiddle of summer, but right now it's full of cold water, 'nough of it tocome right up to your hoss's body. You go through it keerful. "

"Thank you for your good advice, " said Dick. "I'll follow it, too. Good-bye. "

He waved his gauntleted hand and rode on. A hundred yards further andhe glanced back. The boy had stopped on the crest of a hill, and waslooking at him. But Dick knew that it was only the natural curiosity ofthe hills and he renewed his journey without apprehension. 

At the appointed time he saw the stout log cabin of Ben Trimble by theroadside with the warm smoke rising from the chimney, but true to hisword he gave Ben and his shotgun no trouble, and continued straightahead over the frozen road until he came to the banks of Hungry Creek. Here, too, the words of the boy came true. The water was both deep andcold, and Dick looked at it doubtfully. 

He urged his great horse into the stream at last, and it appeared thatthe creek had risen somewhat since the boy had last seen it. In themiddle the horse was compelled to swim, but it was no task for such apowerful animal, and Dick, holding his feet high, came dry to the shorethat he sought. 

The road led on through high hills, covered with oak and beech and cedarand pine, all the deciduous trees bare of leaves, their boughs rustlingdryly whenever the wind blew. He saw the smoke of three cabins nestlingin snug coves, but it was a full three hours before he met anybody elsein the road. Then he saw two men riding toward him, but he could nottell much about them as they were wrapped in heavy gray shawls, and worebroad brimmed felt hats, pulled well down over their foreheads. 

Dick knew that he could not exercise too much caution in this debatableland, and his right hand dropped cautiously to the butt of his pistol insuch a manner that it was concealed by his heavy overcoat. His left handrested lightly on the reins as he rode forward at an even pace. But hedid not fail to take careful note of the two men who were now examininghim in a manner that he did not like. 

Dick saw that the strangers openly carried pistols in their belts, whichwas not of overwhelming significance in such times in such a region, butthey did not have the look of mountaineers riding on peaceful business, and he reined his horse to the very edge of the road that he might passthem. 

He noted with rising apprehension that they checked the pace of theirhorses as they approached, and that they reined to either side of theroad to compel him to go between them. But he pulled his own horse outstill further, and as they could not pass on both sides of him withoutan overt act of hostility they drew together again in the middle of theroad. 

"Mornin' stranger, " they said together, when they were a few yards away. 

"Good morning, " said Dick, riding straight on, without checking hisspeed. But one of the men drew his horse across the road and said:

"What's your hurry? It ain't friendly to ride by without passin' thetime o' day. "

Now at close range, Dick liked their looks less than ever. They mightbe members of that very band of Skelly's which had already made so muchtrouble for both sides, and he summoned all his faculties in order tomeet them at any game that they might try to play. 

"I've been on land business in the mountains, " he said, "and I'm anxiousto get back to my home. Besides the day is very cold, and the two factsdeprive me of the pleasure of a long conversation with you, gentlemen. Good-day. "

"Wait just a little, " said the spokesman, who still kept his horsereined across the road. "These be war times an' it's important to knowwhat a fellow is. Be you for the Union or are you with the Secesh?"

Dick was quite sure that whatever he answered they would immediatelyclaim to be on the opposite side. Then would follow robbery and perhapsmurder. 

"Which is your side?" he asked. 

"But we put the question first, " the fellow replied. 

Dick no longer had any doubts. The second man was drawing his horse upby the side of him, as if to seize him, while the first continued to barthe way. He was alarmed, deeply alarmed, but he lost neither his couragenor his presence of mind. Luckily he had already summoned every facultyfor instant action, and now he acted. He uttered a sudden shout, andraked the side of his horse with both spurs. 

His horse was not only large and powerful but of a most high spirit. When he heard that shout and felt the burning slash of the spurs hemade a blind but mighty leap forward. The horse of the first stranger, smitten by so great a weight, fell in the road and his rider went downwith him. The enraged horse then leaped clear of both and darted forwardat headlong speed. 

As his horse sprang Dick threw himself flat upon his neck, and thebullet that the second man fired whistled over his head. By impulse hedrew his own pistol and fired back. He saw the man's pistol arm fall asif broken, and he heard a loud cry. That was a lucky shot indeed, andrising a little in his saddle he shouted again and again to the greathorse that served him so well. 

The gallant animal responded in full. He stretched out his long neck andthe road flew fast behind him. Sparks flashed from the stones wherethe shod hoofs struck, and Dick exulting felt the cold air rush past. Another shot was fired at long range, but the bullet did not strikeanywhere near. 

Dick took only a single backward glance. He saw the two men on theirhorses, but drooping as if weak from hurts, and he knew that for thepresent at least he was safe from any hurt from them. But he allowed hishorse his head for a long time, and then he gradually slowed himdown. No human being was in sight now and he spoke to the noble animalsoothingly. 

"Good old boy, " he said; "the strongest, the swiftest, the bravest, andthe truest. I was sorry to make those red stripes on your sides, but ithad to be done. Only quickness saved us. "

The horse neighed. He was still quivering from excitement andexertion. So was Dick for that matter. The men might have been robbersmerely--they were at least that bad--but they might have deprived himalso of his precious dispatch. He was proud of the confidence put inhim by General Thomas, and he meant to deserve it. It was this senseof responsibility and pride that had attuned his faculties to so high apitch and that had made his action so swift, sudden and decisive. 

But he steadied himself presently. The victory, for victory it certainlywas, increased his strength and confidence. He stopped soon at abrook--they seemed to occur every mile--and bathed with cold water thered streaks his spurs had made on either side of his horse. Again hespoke soothing words and regretted the necessity that had caused him tomake such wounds, slight though they were. 

He also bathed his own face and hands and, as it was now about noon, ate of the cold ham and bread that he carried in his knapsack, meanwhilekeeping constant watch on the road over which he had come. But he didnot believe that the men would pursue, and he saw no sign of them. Mounting again he rode forward. 

The remainder of the afternoon went by without interruption. He passedthree or four people, but they were obviously natives of that region, and they asked him only innocent questions. The wintry day was short, and the twilight was soon at hand. He was riding over one of the bareridges, when first he noticed how late the day had grown. All the skywas gray and chill and the cold sun was setting behind the westernmountains. A breeze sprang up, rustling among the leafless branches, andDick shivered in the saddle. A new necessity was pressed suddenly uponhim. He must find shelter for the night. Even with his warm doubleblankets he could not sleep in the forest on such a night. Besides thehorse would need food. 

He rode on briskly for a full hour, anxiously watching both sides ofthe road for a cabin or cabin smoke. By that time night had come fully, though fortunately it was clear but very cold. He saw then on the righta faint coil of smoke rising against the dusky sky and he rode straightfor it. 

The smoke came from a strong double cabin, standing about four hundredyards from the road, and the sight of the heavy log walls made Dick allthe more anxious to get inside them. The cold had grown bitter and evenhis horse shivered. 

As he approached two yellow curs rushed forth and began to barkfuriously, snapping at the horse's heels, the usual mountain welcome. But when a kick from the horse grazed the ear of one of them they keptat a respectful distance. 

"Hello! Hello!" called Dick loudly. 

This also was the usual mountain notification that a guest had come, and the heavy board door of the house opened inward. A man, elderly, but dark and strong, with the high cheek bones of an Indian stood in thedoor, the light of a fire blazing in the fireplace on the opposite sideof the wall throwing him in relief. His hair was coal black, long andcoarse, increasing his resemblance to an Indian. 

Dick rode close to the door, and, without hesitation, asked for anight's shelter and food. This was his inalienable right in the hills ormountains of his state, and he would be a strange man indeed who wouldrefuse it. 

The man sharply bade the dogs be silent and they retreated behind thehouse, their tails drooping. Then he said to Dick in a tone that was notwithout hospitality:

"'Light, stranger, an' we'll put up your horse. Mandy will have supperready by the time we finish the job. "

Dick sprang down gladly, but staggered a little at first from thestiffness of his legs. 

"You've rid far, stranger, " said the man, who Dick knew at once had akeen eye and a keen brain, "an' you're young, too. "

"But not younger than many who have gone to the war, " replied Dick. "Infact, you see many who are not older than fifteen or sixteen. "

He had spoken hastily and incautiously and he realized it at once. Theman's keen gaze was turned upon him again. 

"You've seen the armies, then?" he said. "Mebbe you're a sojeryourself?"

"I've been in the mountains, looking after some land that belongs to myfamily, " said Dick. "My name is Mason, Richard Mason, and I live nearPendleton, which is something like a hundred miles from here. "

He deemed it best to give his right name, as it would have nosignificance there. 

"You must have seen armies, " persisted the man, "or you wouldn't hevknowed 'bout so many boys of fifteen or sixteen bein' in them. "

"I saw both the Federal and Confederate armies in Eastern Kentucky. Mybusiness took me near them, but I was always glad to get away from them, too. "

"I heard tell today that there was a big battle. "

"You heard right. It was fought near a little place called Mill Spring, and resulted in a complete victory for the Northern forces under GeneralThomas. "

"That was what I heard. It will be good news to some, an' bad news toothers. 'Pears to me, Mr. Mason, that you can't fight a battle that willsuit everybody. "

"I never heard of one that did. "

"An' never will, I reckon. Mighty good hoss that you're ridin'. I neverseed one with better shoulders. My name's Leffingwell, Seth Leffingwell, an' I live here alone, 'ceptin' my old woman, Mandy. All we ask ofpeople is to let us be. Lots of us in the mountain feel that way. Letthem lowlanders shoot one another up ez long ez they please, but up herethere ain't no slaves, an' there ain't nothin' else to fight about. "

The stable was a good one, better than usual in that country. Dick sawstalls for four horses, but no horses. They put his own horse in oneof the stalls, and gave him corn and hay. Then they walked back to thehouse, and entered a large room, where a stalwart woman of middle agehad just finished cooking supper. 

"Whew, but the night's goin' to be cold, " said Leffingwell, as he shutthe door behind them, and cut off an icy blast. "It'll make the firean' supper all the better. We're just plain mountain people, but you'rewelcome to the best we have. Ma, this is Mr. Mason, who has been onlan' business in the mountains, an' is back on his way to his home atPendleton. "

Leffingwell's wife, a powerful woman, as large as her husband, and witha pleasant face, gave Dick a large hand and a friendly grasp. 

"It's a good night to be indoors, " she said. "Supper's ready, Seth. Willyou an' the stranger set?"

She had placed the pine table in the middle of the room, and Dicknoticed that it was large enough for five or six persons. He put hissaddle bags and blankets in a corner and he and the man drew up chairs. 

He had seldom beheld a more cheerful scene. In a great fireplace tenfeet wide big logs roared and crackled. Corn cakes, vegetables, andtwo kinds of meat were cooking over the coals and a great pot of coffeeboiled and bubbled. No candles had been lighted, but they were notneeded. The flames gave sufficient illumination. 

"Set, young man, " said Leffingwell heartily, "an' see who's teeth aresharper, yourn or mine. "

Dick sat down gladly, and they fell to. The woman alternately waited onthem and ate with them. For a time the two masculine human beingsate and drank with so much vigor that there was no time for talk. Leffingwell was the first to break silence. 

"I kin see you growin', " he said. 

"Growing?"

"Yes, growin', you're eatin' so much, you're enjoyin' it so much, an'you're digestin' it so fast. You are already taller than you was whenyou set, an' you're broader 'cross the chest. No, 'tain't wuth while to'pologize. You've got a right to be hungry, an' you mustn't forget Ma'scookin' either. She's never had her beat in all these mountains. "

"Shut up, Seth, " said Mrs. Leffingwell, genially, "you'll make the youngstranger think you're plum' foolish, which won't be wide of the markeither. "

"I'm grateful, " said Dick falling into the spirit of it, "but what painsme, Mrs. Leffingwell, is the fact that Mr. Leffingwell will only nibbleat your food. I don't understand it, as he looks like a healthy man. "

"'Twouldn't do for me to be too hearty, " said Leffingwell, "or I'd keepMandy here cookin' all the time. "

They seemed pleasant people to Dick, good, honest mountain types, and hewas glad that he had found their house. The room in which they satwas large, apparently used for all purposes, kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, and bedroom. An old-fashioned squirrel rifle lay on hooksprojecting from the wall, but there was no other sign of a weapon. Therewas a bed at one end of the room and another at the other, which couldbe hidden by a rough woolen curtain running on a cord. Dick surmisedthat this bed would be assigned to him. 

Their appetites grew lax and finally ceased. Then Leffingwell yawned andstretched his arms. 

"Stranger, " he said, "we rise early an' go to bed early in these parts. Thar ain't nothin' to keep us up in the evenin's, an' as you've had ahard, long ride I guess you're just achin' fur sleep. "

Dick, although he had been unwilling to say so, was in fact very sleepy. The heavy supper and the heat of the room pulled so hard on his eyelidsthat he could scarcely keep them up. He murmured his excuses and said hebelieved he would like to retire. 

"Don't you be bashful about sayin' so, " exclaimed Leffingwell heartily, "'cause I don't think I could keep up more'n a half hour longer. "

Mrs. Leffingwell drew the curtain shutting off one bed and a small spacearound it. Dick, used to primitive customs, said good-night and retiredwithin his alcove, taking his saddle bags. There was a small window nearthe foot of the room, and when he noticed it he resolved to let in alittle air later on. The mountaineers liked hot rooms all the time, buthe did not. This window contained no glass, but was closed with a broadshutter. 

The boy undressed and got into bed, placing his saddle bags on the footof it, and the pistol that he carried in his belt under his head. Hefell asleep almost immediately and had he been asked beforehand he wouldhave said that nothing could awake him before morning. Nevertheless heawoke before midnight, and it was a very slight thing that caused himto come out of sleep. Despite the languor produced by food and heat acertain nervous apprehension had been at work in the boy's mind, and itfollowed him into the unknown regions of sleep. His body was dead fora time and his mind too, but this nervous power worked on, almostindependently of him. It had noted the sound of voices nearby, andawakened him, as if he had been shaken by a rough hand. 

He sat up in his bed and became conscious of a hot and aching head. Thenhe remembered the window, and softly drawing two pegs that fastened itin order that he might not awaken his good hosts, he opened it inward afew inches. 

The cold air poured in at the crevice and felt like heaven on his face. His temples quit throbbing and his head ceased to ache. He had notnoticed at first the cause that really awakened him, but as he settledback into bed, grateful for the fresh air, the same mysterious powergave him a second warning signal. 

He heard the hum of voices and sat up again. It was merely theLeffingwells in the bed at the far end of the room, talking! Perhapshe had not been asleep more than an hour, and it was natural thatthey should lie awake a while, talking about the coming of this youngstranger or any other event of the day that interested them. Then hecaught a tone or an inflection that he did not remember to have beenused by either of the Leffingwells. A third signal of alarm was promptlyregistered on his brain. 

He leaned from the bed and pulling aside the curtain a half an inchor so, looked into the room. The fire had died down except a few coalswhich cast but a faint light. Yet it was sufficient to show Dick thatthe two Leffingwells had not gone to bed. They were sitting fullyclothed before the fireplace, and three other persons were with them. 

As Dick stared his eyes grew more used to the half dusk and he sawclearly. The three strangers were young men, all armed heavily, and theresemblance of two of them to the Leffingwells was so striking that hehad no doubt they were their sons. Now he understood about those emptystalls. The third man, who had been sitting with his shoulder towardDick, turned his face presently, and the boy with difficulty repressedan exclamation. It was the one who had reined his horse across the roadto stop him. A fourth and conclusive signal of alarm was registered uponhis brain. 

He began to dress rapidly and without noise. Meanwhile he listenedintently and could hear the words they spoke. The woman was pleadingwith them to let him go. He was only a harmless lad, and while thesewere dark days, a crime committed now might yet be punished. 

"A harmless boy, " said the strange man. "He's quick, an' strong enough, I tell you. You should have seen how he rode me down, and then shotGarmon in the arm. "

"I'd like to have that hoss of his, " said the elder Leffingwell. "He'sthe finest brute I ever laid eyes on. Sech power an' sech action. Inoticed him at once, when Mason come ridin' up. S'pose we jest take thehoss and send the boy on. "

"A hoss like that would be knowed, " protested the woman. "What if sojerscome lookin' fur him!"

"We could run him off in the hills an' keep him there a while, " saidLeffingwell. "I know places where sojers wouldn't find that hoss in athousand years. What do you say to that, Kerins?"

"Good as fur as it goes, " replied Kerins, "but it don't go fur enoughby a long shot. The Yanks whipped the Johnnies in a big battle at MillSpring. Me an' my pardners have been hangin' 'roun' in the woods, seein'what would happen. Now, we know that this boy rode straight from thetent of General Thomas hisself. He's a Union sojer, an' young as he is, he's an officer. He wouldn't be sent out by General Thomas hisself 'lessit was on big business. He's got messages, dispatches of some kind thatare worth a heap to somebody. With all the armies gatherin' in the southan' west of the state it stands to reason that them dispatches mean alot. Now, we've got to get 'em an' get the full worth of 'em from themto whom they're worth the most. "

"He's got a pistol, " said the elder Leffingwell, "I seed it in his belt. If he wakes before we grab him he'll shoot. "

The man Kerins laughed. 

"He'll never get a chance to shoot, " he said. "Why, after all he wentthrough today, he'll sleep like a log till mornin'. "

"That's so, " said one of the young Leffingwells, "an' Kerins is right. We ought to grab them dispatches. Likely in one way or another we kingit a heap fur 'em. "

"Shut up, Jim, you fool, " said his mother sharply. "Do you want murderon your hands? Stealin' hosses is bad enough, but if that boy has gotthe big dispatches you say he has, an' he's missin', don't you thinkthat sojers will come after him? An' they'll trace him to this house, an' I tell you that in war trials don't last long. Besides, he's a niceboy an' he spoke nice all the time to pap an' me. "

But her words did not seem to make any impression upon the others, except her husband, who protested again that it would be enough to takethe horse. As for the dispatches it wasn't wise for them to fool withsuch things. But Kerins insisted on going the whole route and the youngLeffingwells were with him. 

Meanwhile Dick had dressed with more rapidity than ever before in hislife, fully alive to the great dangers that threatened. But his fear wasgreatest lest he might lose the precious dispatches that he bore. Fora few moments he did not know what to do. He might take his pistols andfight, but he could not fight them all with success. Then that pleasantflood of cold air gave him the key. 

While they were still talking he put his saddle bags over his arm, opened the shutter its full width, and dropped quietly to the groundoutside, remembering to take the precaution of closing the shutterbehind him, lest the sudden inrush of cold startle the Leffingwells andtheir friends. 

It was an icy night, but Dick did not stop to notice it. He ran to thestable, saddled and bridled his horse in two minutes, and in anotherminute was flying westward over the flinty road, careless whether or notthey heard the beat of his horse's hoofs. 

CHAPTER VIII. A MEETING AT NIGHT

Dick heard above the thundering hoofbeats only a single shout, and then, as he glanced backward, the house was lost in the moonlight. When hesecured his own horse he had noticed that all the empty stalls were nowfilled, no doubt by the horses of the young Leffingwells and Kerins, but he was secure in his confidence that none could overtake the one herode. 

He felt of that inside pocket of his vest. The precious dispatch wasthere, tightly pinned into its hidden refuge, and as for himself, refreshed, warm, and strong after food, rest, and sleep, he felt equalto any emergency. He had everything with him. The stout saddle bags werelying across the saddle. He had thrust the holster of pistols into them, but he took it out now, and hung it in its own place, also across thesaddle. 

Although he was quite sure there would be no pursuit--the elderLeffingwells would certainly keep their sons from joining it--he senthis great horse straight ahead at a good pace for a long time, theroad being fairly good. His excitement and rapid motion kept him fromnoticing at first the great bitterness of the cold. 

When he had gone five or six miles he drew his horse down to a walk. Then, feeling the intensity of the cold as the mercury was far belowzero, he dismounted, looped the reins over his arms, and walked a while. For further precaution he took his blanket-roll and wrapped the twoblankets about his body, especially protecting his neck and ears. 

He found that the walking, besides keeping him warmer, took all thestiffness out of his muscles, and he continued on foot several miles. Hepassed two brooks and a creek, all frozen over so solidly that the horsepassed on them without breaking the ice. It was an extremely difficulttask to make the animal try the ice, but after much delicate coaxing andurging he always succeeded. 

He saw two more cabins at the roadside, but he did not think of askinghospitality at either. The night was now far advanced and he wishedto put many more miles between him and the Leffingwell home before hesought rest again. 

He mounted his horse once more, and increased his speed. Now thereaction came after so much exertion and excitement. He began to feeldepressed. He was very young and he had no comrade. The loneliness ofthe winter night in a country full of dangers was appalling. It seemedto him, as his heart sank, that all things had conspired against him. But the moment of despair was brief. He summoned his courage anew androde on bravely, although the sense of loneliness in its full powerremained. 

The moonlight was quite bright. The sky was a deep silky blue, in whichmyriads of cold stars shone and danced. By and by he skirted for a whilethe banks of a small river, which he knew flowed southward intothe Cumberland, and which would not cross his path. The rays of themoonlight on its frozen surface looked like darts of cold steel. 

He left the river presently and the road bent a little toward the north. Then the skies darkened somewhat but lightened again as the dawn beganto come. The red but cold edge of the sun appeared above the mountainsthat he had left behind, and then the morning came, pale and cold. 

Dick stopped at a little brook, broke the ice and drank, letting hishorse drink after him. Then he ate heartily of the cold bread and meatin his knapsack. Pitying his horse he searched until he found a littlegrass not yet killed by winter in the lee of the hill, and waited untilhe cropped it all. 

He mounted and resumed his journey through a country in which thehills were steadily becoming lower, with larger stretches of level landappearing between them. By night he should be beyond the last low swellof the mountains and into the hill region proper. As he calculateddistances his heart gave a great thump. He was to locate Buell somedistance north of Green River, and his journey would take him close toPendleton. 

The boy was torn by great and conflicting emotions. He would carryout with his life the task that Thomas had assigned to him, and yet hewished to stop near Pendleton, if only for an hour. 

Yes an hour would do! And it could not interfere with his duty! ButPendleton was a Southern stronghold. Everybody there knew him, and theyall knew, too, that he was in the service of the North. How could hepass by without being seen and what might happen then? The terribleconflict went on in his mind, and it was stilled only when he decided toleave it to time and chance. 

He rode that day almost without interruption, securing an ample dinner, where no one chose to ask questions, accepting him at his own statementof himself and probably believing it. He heard that a small Southernforce was to the southward, probably marching toward Bowling Green, where a great Confederate army under Albert Sidney Johnston was said tobe concentrated. But the news gave him no alarm. His own road was stillleading west slightly by north. 

When night came he was in the pleasant and fertile hill country, dottedwith double brick houses, and others of wood, all with wide porticos, supported by white pillars. It looked smiling and prosperous even inwinter. The war had done no ravages here, and he saw men at work aboutthe great barns. 

He slept in the house of a big farmer, who liked the frank voice andeyes of the lad, and who cared nothing for any errand upon which hemight be riding. He slept, too, without dreams, and without awakeninguntil the morning, when he shared a solid breakfast with the family. 

Dick obtained at the farmhouse a fresh supply of cold food for hissaddle bags, to be held against an emergency, although it was likely nowthat he could obtain all he needed at houses as he passed. Receiving thegood wishes of his hosts he rode on through the hills. The intensecold which kept troops from marching much really served him, as thedetachments about the little towns stayed in their camps. 

The day was quite clear, with the mercury still well below zero, but hisheavy clothing kept him warm and comfortable. His great horse showed nosigns of weariness. Apparently his sinews were made of steel. 

Noon came, but Dick did not seek any farmhouse for what was calleddinner in that region. Instead he ate from his saddle bags as he rodeon. He did not wish to waste time, and, moreover, he had taken hisresolution. He would go near Pendleton. It was on his most direct route, but he would pass in the night. 

As the cold twilight descended he came into familiar regions. Like allother young Kentuckians he was a great horseman, and with Harry Kentonand other lads of his age he had ridden nearly everywhere in a circuitof thirty miles around Pendleton. 

It was with many a throb of the heart that he now recognized familiarscenes. He knew the fields, the forests and the houses. But he was gladthat the night had come. Others would know him, and he did not wish tobe seen when he rode on such an errand. He had been saving his horse inthe afternoon, but now he pushed him forward at a much faster gait. Thegreat horse responded willingly and Dick felt the powerful body workingbeneath him, smooth and tireless like a perfect machine. 

He passed nobody on the road. People hugged their fires on such a coldnight, and he rode hour after hour without interruption. It was nearlymidnight when he stopped on a high hill, free of forest, and looked downupon Pendleton. The wonderful clearness of the winter night helped him. All the stars known to man were out, and helped to illuminate the worldwith a clear but cold radiance. 

Although a long distance away Dick could see Pendleton clearly. Therewas no foliage on the trees now, and nearly every house was visible. The great pulse in his throat throbbed hard as he looked. He saw thesteeples of the churches, the white pillars of the court house, and offto one side the academy in which he and Harry Kenton had gone to schooltogether. He saw further away Colonel Kenton's own house on anotherhill. It, too, had porticos, supported by white pillars which gleamed inthe moonlight. 

Then his eyes traveled again around the half circle before him. Theplace for which he was looking could not be seen. But he knew that itwould be so. It was a low house, and the evergreens about it, the pinesand cedars would hide it at any time. But he knew the exact spot, and hewanted his eyes to linger there a little before he rode straight for it. 

Now the great pulse in his throat leaped, and something like a sob camefrom him. But it was not a sob of unhappiness. He clucked to his horseand turned from the main road into a narrower one that led by the lowhouse among the evergreens. Yet he was a boy of powerful will, anddespite his eagerness, he restrained his horse and advanced very slowly. Sometimes he turned the animal upon the dead turf by the side of theroad in order that his footsteps might make no sound. 

He drew slowly nearer, and when he saw the roof and eaves of the lowhouse among the evergreens the great pulse in his throat leaped so hardthat it was almost unbearable. He reached the edge of the lawn thatcame down to the road, and hidden by the clipped cone of a pine he saw afaint light shining. 

He dismounted, opened the gate softly, and led his horse upon the lawn, hitching him between two pines that grew close together, concealing himperfectly. 

"Be quiet, old fellow, " he whispered, stroking the great intelligenthead. "Nobody will find you here and I'll come back for you. "

The horse rubbed his nose against his arm but made no other movement. Then Dick walked softly toward the house, pulses beating hard and pausedjust at the edge of a portico, where he stood in the shadow of a pillar. He saw the light clearly now. It shone from a window of the low secondstory. It came from her window and her room. Doubtless she was thinkingat that very moment of him. His throat ached and tears came into hiseyes. The light, clear and red, shone steadily from the window and madea band across the lawn. 

He picked a handful of sand from the walk that led to the front doorand threw it against the window. He knew that she was brave and wouldrespond, but waiting only a moment or two he threw a second handfulfully and fairly against the glass. 

The lower half of the window was thrown open and a head appeared, wherethe moonlight fell clearly upon it. It was the head of a beautifulwoman, framed in thick, silken yellow hair, the eyes deep blue, and theskin of the wonderful fairness so often found in that state. The facewas that of a woman about thirty-seven or eight years of age, andwithout a wrinkle or flaw. 

"Mother!" called Dick in a low voice as he stepped from the shadow ofthe pillar. 

There was a cry and the face disappeared like a flash from the window. But he had only a few moments to wait. Her swift feet brought her fromthe room, down the stairway, and along the hall to the door, which shethrew open. The next instant Mrs. Mason had her son in her arms. 

"Oh, Dick, Dicky, boy, how did you come!" she exclaimed. "You were hereunder my window, and I did not even know that you were alive!"

Her tears of joy fell upon his face and he was moved profoundly. Dickloved his beautiful young mother devoutly, and her widowhood had boundthem all the more closely together. 

"I've come a long distance, and I've come in many ways, mother, " hereplied, "by train, by horseback, and I have even walked. "

"You have come here on foot?"

"No, mother. I rode directly over your own smooth lawn on one of thebiggest horses you ever saw, and he's tied now between two of the pinetrees. Come, we must go in the house. It's too cold for you out here. Doyou know that the mercury is about ten degrees below zero. "

"What a man you have grown! Why, you must be two inches taller than youwere, when you went away, and how sunburned and weather-beaten you are, too! Oh, Dicky, this terrible, terrible war! Not a word from you inmonths has got through to me!"

"Nor a word from you to me, mother, but I have not suffered so much sofar. I was at Bull Run, where we lost, and I was at Mill Spring, wherewe won, but I was unhurt. "

"Perhaps you have come back to stay, " she said hopefully. 

"No, mother, not to stay. I took a chance in coming by here to see you, but I couldn't go on without a few minutes. Inside now, mother, yourhands are growing cold. "

They went in at the door, and closed it behind them. But there wasanother faithful soul on guard that night. In the dusky hail loomed agigantic black figure in a blue checked dress, blue turban on head. 

"Marse Dick?" she said. 

"Juliana!" he exclaimed. "How did you know that I was here?"

"Ain't I done heard Miss Em'ly cry out, me always sleepin' so light, an'I hears her run down the hail. An' then I dresses an' comes an' sees youtwo through the crack o' the do', an' then I waits till you come in. "

Dick gave her a most affectionate greeting, knowing that she was as trueas steel. She rejoiced in her flowery name, as many other colored womenrejoiced in theirs, but her heart inhabited exactly the right spot inher huge anatomy. She drew mother and son into the sitting-room, wherelow coals still burned on the hearth. Then she went up to Mrs. Mason'sbedroom and put out the light, after which she came back to thesitting-room, and, standing by a window in silence, watched over the twoover whom she had watched so long. 

"Why is it that you can stay such a little while?" asked Mrs. Mason. 

"Mother, " replied Dick in a low tone, "General Thomas, who won thebattle at Mill Spring, has trusted me. I bear a dispatch of greatimportance. It is to go to General Buell, and it has to do with thegathering of the Union troops in the western and southern parts of ourstate, and in Tennessee. I must get through with it, and in war, mother, time counts almost as much as battles. I can stop only a few minuteseven for you. "

"I suppose it is so. But oh, Dicky, won't this terrible war be oversoon?"

"I don't think so, mother. It's scarcely begun yet. "

Mrs. Mason said nothing, but stared into the coals. The great negress, Juliana, standing at the window, did not move. 

"I suppose you are right, Dick, " she said at last with a sigh, "but itis awful that our people should be arrayed so against one another. Thereis your cousin, Harry Kenton, a good boy, too, on the other side. "

"Yes, mother, I caught a glimpse of him at Bull Run. We came almost faceto face in the smoke. But it was only for an instant. Then the smokerushed in between. I don't think anything serious has happened to him. "

Mrs. Mason shuddered. 

"I should mourn him next to you, " she said, "and my brother-in-law, Colonel Kenton, has been very good. He left orders with his people towatch over us here. Pendleton is strongly Southern as you know, butnobody would do us any harm, unless it was the rough people from thehills. "

Colonel Kenton's wife had been Mrs. Mason's elder sister, and Dick, ashe also sat staring into the coals, wondered why people who were unitedso closely should yet be divided so much. 

"Mother, " he said, "when I came through the mountains with my friends westopped at a house in which lived an old, old woman. She must havebeen nearly a hundred. She knew your ancestor and mine, the famous andlearned Paul Cotter, from whom you and I are descended, and she alsoknew his friend and comrade, the mighty scout and hunter, Henry Ware, who became the great governor of Kentucky. "

"How strange!"

"But the strangest is yet to be told. Harry Kenton, when he went east tojoin Beauregard before Bull Run, stopped at the same house, and whenshe first saw him she only looked into the far past. She thought it wasHenry Ware himself, and she saluted him as the governor. What do youthink of that, mother?"

"It's a startling coincidence. "

"But may it not be an omen? I'm not superstitious, mother, but whenthings come together in such a queer fashion it's bound to make youthink. When Harry's paths and mine cross in such a manner maybe it meansthat we shall all come together again, and be united as we were. "

"Maybe. "

"At any rate, " said Dick with a little laugh, "we'll hope that it does. "

While the boy was not noticing his mother had made a sign to Juliana, who had crept out of the room. Now she returned, bearing food upon atray, and Dick, although he was not hungry, ate to please his mother. 

"You will stay until morning?" she said. 

"No, mother. I can't afford to be seen here. I must leave in the dark. "

"Then until it is nearly morning. "

"Nor that either, mother. My time is about up already. I could neverbetray the trust that General Thomas has put in me. My dispatchesnot only tell of the gathering of our own troops, but they containinvaluable information concerning the Confederate concentration whichGeneral Thomas learned from his scouts and spies. Mother, I think agreat battle is coming here in the west. "

She shuddered, but she did not seek again to delay him in his duty. 

"I am proud, " she said, "that you have won the confidence of yourgeneral, and that you ride upon such an important errand. I should havebeen glad if you had stayed at home, Dick, but since you have chosen tobe a soldier, I am rejoiced that you have risen in the esteem of yourofficers. Write to me as often as you can. Maybe none of your letterswill reach me, but at least start them. I shall start mine, too. "

"Of course, mother, " said Dick, "and now it's time for me to ride hard. "

"Why, you have been here only a half hour!"

"Nearer an hour, mother, and on this journey of mine time means a lot. Imust say good-bye now to you and Juliana. "

The two women followed him down the lawn to the point where his horsewas hitched between the two big pines. Mrs. Mason patted the horse'sgreat head and murmured to him to carry her son well. 

"Did you ever see a finer horse, mother?" said Dick proudly. "He's thevery pick of the army. "

He threw his arms around her neck, kissed her more than once, spranginto the saddle and rode away in the darkness. 

The two women, the black and the white, sisters in grief, and yet happythat he had come, went slowly back into the house to wait, while theboy, a man's soul in him, strode on to war. 

Dick was far from Pendleton when the dawn broke, and now he had fullneed of caution. His horse was bearing him fast into debatable ground, where every man suspected his neighbor, and it remained for force aloneto tell to which side the region belonged. But the extreme delicacy ofthe tension came to Dick's aid. People hesitated to ask questions, lestquestions equally difficult be asked of them in return. It was a greattime to mind one's own business. 

He rode on, fortune with him for the present, and his course was stillwest slightly by north. He slept under roofs, and he learned that inthe country into which he had now come the Union sympathizers were morenumerous than the Confederate. The majority of the Kentuckians, whatevertheir personal feelings, were not willing to shatter the republic. 

He heard definitely that here in the west the North was gathering armiesgreater than any that he had supposed. Besides the troops from the threestates just across the Ohio River the hardy lumbermen and pioneerswere pouring down from Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota. Huntersin deerskin suits and buffalo moccasins had already come from the farNebraska Territory. 

The power of the west and the northwest was converging upon his state, which gave eighty thousand of its men to the Northern cause, while halfas many more went away to the Southern armies, particularly to the oneunder the brilliant and daring Albert Sidney Johnston, which hunga sinister menace before the Northern front. One hundred and twentythousand troops sent to the two armies by a state that contained butlittle more than a million people! It was said at the time that asKentucky went, so would go the fortunes of the Union and in the end itwas so. 

But these facts and reckonings were not much in Dick's mind just then. He was thinking of Buell's camp and of the message that he bore. Againand again he felt of that little inside pocket of his vest to see thatit was there, although he knew that by no chance could he have lost it. 

When he was within fifteen miles of Buell's camp a heavy snow began tofall. But he did not mind it. The powerful horse that had borne him sowell carried him safely on to his destination, and before the sundownof that day the young messenger was standing before General Don CarlosBuell, one of the most puzzling characters whom he was to meet in thewhole course of the war. He had found Thomas a silent man, but he foundBuell even more so. He received Dick in an ordinary tent, thanked himas he saluted and handed him the dispatch, and then read General Thomas'message. 

Dick saw before him a shortish, thickset man, grim of feature, who didnot ask him a word until he had finished the dispatch. 

"You know what this contains?" he said, when he came to the end. 

"Yes, General Thomas made me memorize it, that I might destroy it if Iwere too hard pressed. "

"He tells us that Johnston is preparing for some great blow and hegives the numbers and present location of the hostile forces. Valuableinformation for us, if it is used. You have done well, Mr. Mason. Towhat force were you attached?"

"A small division of Pennsylvania troops under Major Hertford. They wereto be sent by General Thomas to General Grant at Cairo, Illinois. "

"And you would like to join them. "

"If you please, sir. "

"In view of your services your wish is granted. It is likely thatGeneral Grant will need all the men whom he can get. A detachment leaveshere early in the morning for Elizabethtown, where it takes the trainfor Louisville, proceeding thence by water to Cairo. You shall go withthese men. They are commanded by Colonel Winchester. You may go now, Mr. Mason. "

He turned back to his papers and Dick, thinking his manner somewhatcurt, left his tent. But he was pleased to hear that the detailwas commanded by Colonel Winchester. Arthur Winchester was a man offorty-one or two who lived about thirty miles north of Pendleton. He wasa great landowner, of high character and pleasant manners. Dick had methim frequently in his childhood, and the Colonel received him with muchwarmth. 

"I'm glad to know, Dick, " he said familiarly, "that you're going withus. I'm fond of Pendleton, and I like to have one of the Pendleton boysin my command. If all that we hear of this man Grant is true, we'll seeaction, action hot and continuous. "

They rode to Elizabethtown, where Dick was compelled to leave his greathorse for Buell's men, and went by train to Louisville, going thenceby steamer down the Ohio River to Cairo, at its junction with theMississippi, where they stood at last in the presence of that generalwhose name was beginning to be known in the west. 

CHAPTER IX. TAKING A FORT

Dick was with Colonel Winchester when he was admitted to the presence ofthe general who had already done much to strengthen the Union causein the west, and he found him the plainest and simplest of men, underforty, short in stature, and careless in attire. He thanked ColonelWinchester for the reinforcement that he had brought him, and thenturned with some curiosity to Dick. 

"So you were at the battle of Mill Spring, " he said. "It was hot, was itnot?"

"Hot enough for me, " replied Dick frankly. 

Grant laughed. 

"They caught a Tartar in George Thomas, " he said, "and I fancy thatothers who try to catch him will be glad enough to let him go. "

"He is a great man, sir, " said Dick with conviction. 

Then Grant asked him more questions about the troops and the situationin Eastern Kentucky, and Dick noticed that all were sharp andpenetrating. 

"Your former immediate commander, Major Hertford, and some of his menare due here today, " said Grant. "General Thomas, knowing that his owncampaign was over, sent them north to Cincinnati and they have come downthe river to Cairo. When they reach here they will be attached to theregiment of Colonel Winchester. "

Dick was overjoyed. He had formed a strong liking for Major Hertford andhe was quite sure that Warner and Sergeant Whitley would be with him. Once more they would be reunited, reunited for battle. He could notdoubt that they would go to speedy action as the little town at thejunction of the mighty rivers resounded with preparation. 

When Colonel Winchester and the boy had saluted and retired from GeneralGrant's tent they saw the smoke pouring from the funnels of numeroussteamers in the Mississippi, and they saw thousands of troops encampedin tents along the shores of both the Ohio and Mississippi. Heavy cannonwere drawn up on the wharves, and ammunition and supplies were beingtransferred from hundreds of wagons to the steamers. It was evident toany one that this expedition, whatever it might be, was to proceed bywater. It was a land of mighty rivers, close together, and a steamermight go anywhere. 

As Dick and Colonel Winchester, on whose staff he would now be, werewatching this active scene, a small steamer, coming down the Ohio, drewin to a wharf, and a number of soldiers in faded blue disembarked. Theboy uttered a shout of joy. 

"What is it, Dick?" asked Colonel Winchester. 

"Why, sir, there's my former commander, Colonel Newcomb, and just behindhim is my comrade, Lieutenant George Warner of Vermont, and not far awayis Sergeant Whitley, late of the regular army, one of the best soldiersin the world. Can I greet them, colonel?"

"Of course. "

Dick rushed forward and saluted Colonel Newcomb, who grasped him warmlyby the hand. 

"So you got safely through, my lad, " he said. "Major Hertford, who camedown the Kentucky with his detachment and joined us at Carrollton at themouth of that river, told us of your mission. The major is bringing upthe rear of our column, but here are other friends of yours. "

Dick the next moment was wringing the hand of the Vermont boy and wasreceiving an equally powerful grip in return. 

"I believed that we would meet you here, " said Warner, "I calculatedthat with your courage, skill and knowledge of the country the chanceswere at least eighty per cent in favor of your getting through to Buell. And if you did get through to Buell I knew that at least ninety percent of the circumstances would represent your desire and effort to comehere. That was a net percentage of seventy-two in favor of meeting youhere in Cairo, and the seventy-two per cent has prevailed, as it usuallydoes. "

"Nothing is so bad that it can't be worse, " said Sergeant Whitley, ashe too gave Dick's hand an iron grasp, "and I knew that when we lost youwe'd be pretty glad to see you again. Here you are safe an' sound, an'here we are safe an' sound, a most satisfactory condition in war. "

"But not likely to remain so long, judging from what we see here, " saidWarner. "We hear that this man Grant is a restless sort of a person whothinks that the way to beat the enemy is just to go in and beat him. "

Major Hertford came up at that moment, and he, too, gave Dick a welcomethat warmed his heart. But the boy did not get to remain long with hisold comrades. The Pennsylvania regiment had been much cut down throughthe necessity of leaving detachments as guards at various places alongthe river, but it was yet enough to make a skeleton and its entity waspreserved, forming a little eastern band among so many westerners. 

Dick, at General Grant's order, was transferred permanently to the staffof Colonel Winchester, and he and the other officers slept that nightin a small building in the outskirts of Cairo. He knew that a greatmovement was at hand, but he was becoming so thoroughly inured to dangerand hardship that he slept soundly all through the night. 

They heard early the next morning the sound of many trumpets and ColonelWinchester's regiment formed for embarkation. All the puffing steamerswere now in the Ohio, and Dick saw with them many other vessels whichwere not used for carrying soldiers. He saw broad, low boats, withflat bottoms, their sides sheathed in iron plates. They were floatingbatteries moved by powerful engines beneath. Then there were eight hugemortars, a foot across the muzzle, every one mounted separately upon astrong barge and towed. Some of the steamers were sheathed in iron also. 

Dick's heart throbbed hard when he saw the great equipment. The fightingships were under the command of Commodore Foote, an able man, butGeneral Grant and his lieutenants, General McClernand and General Smith, commanded the army aboard the transports. On the transport next to themDick saw the Pennsylvanians and he waved his hand to his friends whostood on the deck. They waved back, and Dick felt powerfully the senseof comradeship. It warmed his heart for them all to be together again, and it was a source of strength, too. 

The steamer that bore his regiment was named the River Queen, and manyof her cabins had been torn away to make more room for the troops whowould sleep in rows on her decks, as thick as buffaloes in a herd. Thesoldiers, like all the others whom he saw, were mostly boys. The averagecould not be over twenty, and some were not over sixteen. But they hadthe adaptability of youth. They had scattered themselves about in easypositions. One was playing an accordion, and another a fiddle. Theofficers did not interrupt them. 

As Dick looked over the side at the yellow torrent some one said besidehim:

"This is a whopping big river. You don't see them as deep as this whereI come from. "

Dick glanced at the speaker, and saw a lad of about his own age, ofmedium height, but powerfully built, with shoulders uncommonly thick. His face was tanned brown, but his eyes were blue and his naturalcomplexion was fair. He was clad completely in deerskin, mocassinson his feet and a raccoon skin cap on his head. Dick had noticed theNebraska hunters in such garb, but he was surprised to see this boydressed in similar fashion among the Kentuckians. 

The youth smiled when he saw Dick's glance of surprise. 

"I know I look odd among you, " he said, "and you take me for one of theNebraska hunters. So I am, but I'm a Kentuckian, too, and I've a rightto a place with you fellows. My name is Frank Pennington. I was bornabout forty miles north of Pendleton, but when I was six months old myparents went out on the plains, where I've hunted buffalo, and whereI've fought Indians, too. But I'm a Kentuckian by right of birth just asyou are, and I asked to be assigned to the regiment raised in the regionfrom which we came. "

"And mighty welcome you are, too, " said Dick, offering his hand. "Youbelong with us, and we'll stick together on this campaign. "

The two youths, one officer and one private, became fast friends ina moment. Events move swiftly in war. Both now felt the great enginesthrobbing faster beneath them, and the flotilla, well into the mouth ofthe Ohio, was leaving the Mississippi behind them. But the Ohio herefor a distance is apparently the mightier stream, and they gazed withinterest and a certain awe at the vast yellow sheet enclosed by shores, somber in the gray garb of winter. It was the beginning of February, andcold winds swept down from the Illinois prairies. Cairo had been leftbehind and there was no sign of human habitation. Some wild fowl, careless of winter, flew over the stream, dipped toward the water, andthen flew away again. 

As far as the eye was concerned the wilderness circled about them andenclosed them. The air was cold and flakes of snow dropped upon thedecks and the river, but were gone in an instant. The skies were anunbroken sheet of gray. The scene so lonely and desolate contained amajesty that impressed them all, heightened for these youths by theknowledge that many of them were going on a campaign from which theywould never return. 

"Looks as wild as the great plains on which I've hunted with my father, "said Pennington. 

"But we hunt bigger game than buffalo, " said Dick. 

"Game that is likely to turn and hunt us. "

"Yes. "

"Do you know where we're going?"

"Not exactly, but I can make a good guess. I know that we've taken onTennessee River pilots, and I'm sure that we'll turn into the mouth ofthat river at Paducah. I infer that we're to attack Fort Henry, whichthe Confederates have erected some distance up the Tennessee to guardthat river. "

"Looks likely. Do you know much about the fort?"

"I've heard of it only since I came to Cairo. I know that it stands onlow, marshy ground facing the Tennessee, and that it contains seventeenbig guns. I haven't heard anything about the size of its garrison. "

"But we'll have a fight, that's sure, " said young Pennington. "I'vebeen in battle only once--at Columbus--but the Johnny Rebs don't give upforts in a hurry. "

"There's another fort, a much bigger one, named Donelson, on theCumberland, " said Dick. "Both the forts are in Tennessee, but as the tworivers run parallel here in the western parts of the two states, FortDonelson and Fort Henry are not far apart. I risk a guess that we attackboth. "

"You don't risk much. I tell you, Dick, that man Grant is a holy terror. He isn't much to look at, but he's a marcher and a fighter. We fellowsin the ranks soon learn what kind of a man is over us. I supposeit's like the horse feeling through the bit the temper of his rider. President Lincoln has stationed General Halleck at St. Louis withgeneral command here in the West. General Halleck thinks that GeneralGrant is a meek subordinate without ambition, and will always be sendingback to him for instructions, which is just what General Halleck likes, but we in the ranks have learned to know our Grant better. "

Dick's eyes glistened. 

"So you think, then, " he said, "that General Grant will push thiscampaign home, and that he'll soon be where he can't get instructionsfrom General Halleck?"

"Looks that way to a man up a tree, " said Pennington slowly, andsolemnly winking his left eye. 

They were officer and private, but they were only lads together, andthey talked freely with each other. Dick, after a while, returned to hiscommanding officer, Colonel Winchester, but there was little to do, andhe sat on the deck with him, looking out over the fleet, the transports, the floating batteries, the mortar boats, and the iron-clads. He sawthat the North, besides being vastly superior in numbers and resources, was the supreme master on the water through her equipment and themechanical skill of her people. The South had no advantage save thedefensive, and the mighty generals of genius who appeared chiefly on herVirginia line. 

Dick had inherited a thoughtful temperament from his famous ancestor, Paul Cotter, whose learning had appeared almost superhuman to the peopleof his time, and he was extremely sensitive to impressions. His mindwould register them with instant truth. As he looked now upon thisfloating army he felt that the Union cause must win. On land theConfederates might be invincible or almost so, but the waters of therivers and the sea upheld the Union cause. 

The fleet steamed on at an even pace. Foote, the commodore whohad daringly reconnoitered Fort Henry from a single gunboat in theTennessee, managed everything with alertness and skill. The transportswere in the center of the stream. The armed and armored vessels kept onthe flanks. 

The river, a vast yellow sheet, sometimes turning gray under the gray, wintry skies, seemed alone save for themselves. Not a single canoe orskiff disturbed its surface. Toward evening the flakes of snow cameagain, and the bitter wind blew once more from the Illinois prairies. All the troops who were not under shelter were wrapped in blanketsor overcoats. Dick and the colonel, with the heavy coats over theiruniforms, did not suffer. Instead, they enjoyed the cold, crisp air, which filled their lungs and seemed to increase their power. 

"When shall we reach the Tennessee?" asked Dick. 

"You will probably wake up in the morning to find yourself some distanceup that stream. "

"I've never seen the Tennessee. "

"Though not the equal of the Ohio, it would be called a giant river inmany countries. The whole fleet, if it wanted to do it, could go upit hundreds of miles. Why, Dick, these boats can go clear down intoAlabama, into the very heart of the Confederacy, into the very state atthe capital of which Jefferson Davis was inaugurated President of theseceding states. "

"I was thinking of that some time ago, " said Dick. "The water is withus. "

"Yes, the water is with us, and will stay with us. "

They were silent a little while longer and watched the coming of theearly winter twilight over the waters and the lonely land. The sky wasso heavy with clouds that the gray seemed to melt into the brown. Thelow banks slipped back into the dark. They saw only the near surfaceof the river, the dark hulls of the fleet, occasional showers of sparksfrom smoke stacks, and an immense black cloud made by the smoke of thefleet, trailing behind them far down the river. 

"Dick, " said Colonel Winchester suddenly, "as you came across Kentuckyfrom Mill Spring, and passed so near Pendleton it must have been a greattemptation to you to stop and see your mother. "

"It was. It was so great that I yielded to it. I was at our home aboutmidnight for nearly an hour. I hope I did nothing wrong, colonel. "

"No, Dick, my boy. Some martinets might find fault with you, but Ishould blame you had you not stopped for those few moments. A noblewoman, your mother, Dick. I hope that she is watched over well. "

Dick glanced at the colonel, but he could not see his face in thedeepening twilight. 

"My uncle, Colonel Kenton, has directed his people to give her help incase of need, " he replied, "but that means physical help against raidersand guerillas. Otherwise she has sufficient for her support. "

"That is well. War is terrible on women. And now, Dick, my lad, we'llget our supper. This nipping air makes me hungry, and the Northerntroops do not suffer for lack of food. "

The officers ate in one of the cabins, and when the supper was finisheddeep night had come over the river, but Dick, standing on the deck, heard the heavy throb of many engines, and he knew that a great armywas still around him, driven on by the will of one man, deep into thecountry of the foe. 

The decks, every foot of plank it seemed, were already covered withthe sleeping boys, wrapped in their blankets and overcoats. He saw hisfriend, the young hunter from Nebraska, lying with his head on his arm, sound asleep, a smile on his face. 

Dick watched until the first darkness thinned somewhat, and the starscame out. Then he retired to one of the cabins, which he shared withthree or four others, and slept soundly until he was aroused forbreakfast. He had not undressed, and, bathing his face, he went out atonce on the deck. Many of the soldiers were up, there was a hum of talk, and all were looking curiously at the river up which they were steaming. 

They were in the Tennessee, having passed in the night the little townof Paducah--now an important city--at its mouth. It was not so broad asthe Ohio, but it was broad, nevertheless, and it had the aspect of greatdepth. But here, as on the Ohio, they seemed to be steaming through thewilderness. The banks were densely wooded, and the few houses that mayhave been near were hidden by the trees. No human beings appeared uponthe banks. 

Dick knew why the men did not come forth to see the ships. Thesouthwestern part of the state, the old Jackson's Purchase, and theregion immediately adjacent, was almost solidly for the South. Theywould not find here that division of sentiment, with the majorityinclined to the North, that prevailed in the higher regions of Kentucky. The country itself was different. It was low and the waters that cameinto the Tennessee flowed more sluggishly. 

But Dick was sure that keen eyes were watching the fleet from theundergrowth, and he had no doubt that every vessel had long since beencounted and that every detail of the fleet had been carried to theSouthern garrisons in the fort. 

The cold was as sharp as on the day before, and Dick, like the others, rejoiced in the hot and abundant breakfast. The boats, an hour or twolater, stopped at a little landing, and many of the lads would gladlyhave gone ashore for a few moments, risking possible sharpshooters inthe woods, but not one was allowed to leave the vessels. But Dick'ssteamer lay so close to the one carrying the Pennsylvanians that hecould talk across the few intervening feet of water with Warner andWhitley. He also took the opportunity to introduce his new friendPennington, of Nebraska. 

"Are you the son of John Pennington, who lived for a little while atFort Omaha?" asked the sergeant. 

"Right you are, " replied the young hunter, "I'm his third son. "

"Then you're the third son of a brave man. I was in the regular army andoften we helped the pioneers against the Indians. I remember beingin one fight with him against the Sioux on the Platte, and in anotheragainst the Northern Cheyennes in the Jumping Sand Hills. "

"Hurrah!" cried Pennington. "I'm sorry I can't jump over a section ofthe Tennessee River and shake hands with you. "

"We'll have our chance later, " said the sergeant. At that moment thefleet started again, and the boats swung apart. Through Dick's earnestsolicitation young Pennington was taken out of the ranks and attachedto the staff of Colonel Winchester as an orderly. He was well educated, already a fine campaigner, and beyond a doubt he would prove extremelyuseful. 

They steamed the entire day without interruption. Now and then the rivernarrowed and they ran between high banks. The scenery became romanticand beautiful, but always wild. The river, deep at any time, was nowswollen fifteen feet more by floods on its upper courses, and the wateralways lapped at the base of the forest. 

Dick and Pennington, standing side by side, saw the second sun set overtheir voyage, and it was as wild and lonely as the first. There was ayellow river again, and hills covered with a bare forest. Heavy grayclouds trooped across the sky, and the sun was lost among them before itsank behind the hills in the west. 

Dick and Pennington, wrapped in their blankets and overcoats, slept uponthe deck that night, with scores of others strewed about them. They wereawakened after eleven o'clock by a sputter of rifle shots. Dick sat upin a daze and heard a bullet hum by his ear. Then he heard a powerfulvoice shouting: "Down! Down, all of you! It's only some skirmishers inthe woods!" Then a cannon on one of the armor clads thundered, anda shell ripped its way through the underbrush on the west bank. Manyexclamations were uttered by the half-awakened lads. 

"What is it? Has an army attacked us?"

"Are we before the fort and under fire?"

"Take your foot off me, you big buffalo!"

It was Colonel Winchester who had commanded them to keep down, but Dick, a staff officer, knew that it did not apply to him. Instead he sprangerect and assisted the senior officers in compelling the others to lieflat upon the decks. He saw several flashes of fire in the undergrowth, but he had logic enough to know that it could only be a small Southernband. Three or four more shells raked the woods, and then there was noreply. 

The boats steamed steadily on. Only one or two of the young soldiershad been hurt and they but lightly. All rolled themselves again in theirblankets and coats and went back to sleep. 

The second awakening was about half way between midnight and dawn. Something cold was continually dropping on Dick's face and he awoke tofind hundreds of sheeted and silent white forms lying motionless uponthe deck. Snow was falling swiftly out of a dark sky, and the fleetwas moving slowly. In the darkness and stillness the engines throbbedpowerfully, and the night was lighted fitfully by the showers of sparksthat gushed now and then from the smoke stacks. 

Dick thought of rising and brushing the snow from his blankets, but hewas so warm inside them that he yawned once or twice and went to sleepagain. When he awoke it was morning again, the snow had ceased and themen were brushing it from themselves and the decks. 

The young soldiers, as they ate breakfast, spoke of the rifle shots thathad been fired at them the night before and, since little damage hadbeen done, they appreciated the small spice of danger. The wildnessand mystery of their situation appealed to them, too. They were likeexplorers, penetrating new regions. 

"To most of us it's something like the great plains, " said Penningtonto Dick. "There you seldom know what you're coming to; maybe a blizzard, maybe a buffalo herd, and maybe a band of Indians, and you take apleasure in the uncertainty. But I suppose it's not the same to you, this being your state. "

"I don't know much about Western Kentucky, " said Dick, "my part lies tothe center and east, but anyway, our work is to be done in Tennessee. Those two forts, which I'm sure we're after, lie in that state. "

"And when do you think we'll reach 'em?"

"Tomorrow, I suppose. "

The day passed without any interruption to the advance of the fleet, although there was occasional firing, but not of a serious nature. Nowand then small bands of Confederate skirmishers sent rifle shots fromhigh points along the bank toward the fleet, but they did no damage andthe ships steamed steadily on. 

The third night out came, and again the young soldiers slept soundly, but the next morning, soon after breakfast, the whole fleet stopped inthe middle of the river. A thrill of excitement ran through thearmy when the news filtered from ship to ship that they were now inTennessee, and that Fort Henry, which they were to attack, was justahead. 

Nevertheless, they seemed to be yet in the wilderness. The Tennessee, inflood, spread its yellow waters through forest and undergrowth, and thechill gray sky still gave a uniform somber, gray tint to everything. Bugles blew in the boats, and every soldier began to put himself andhis weapons in order. The command to make a landing had been given, andCommodore Foote was feeling about for a place. 

Dick now realized the enormous advantage of supremacy upon the water. Had the Confederates possessed armored ships to meet them, the landingof a great army under fire would be impossible, but now they chose theirown time and went about it unvexed. 

A place was found at last, a rude wharf was constructed hastily, and thefleet disgorged the army, boat by boat. Vast quantities of stores andheavy cannon were also brought ashore. Despite the cold, Dick and hiscomrades perspired all the morning over their labors and were coveredwith mud when the camp was finally constructed at some distance back ofthe Tennessee, on the high ground beyond the overflow. The transportsremained at anchor, but the fighting boats were to drop down the streamand attack the fort at noon the next day from the front, while the armyassailed it at the same time from the rear. 

The detachment of Pennsylvanians was by the side of Colonel Winchester'sKentucky regiment, and Colonel Newcomb and his staff messed with ColonelWinchester and his officers. There was water everywhere, and before theyate they washed the mud off themselves as best they could. 

"I suppose, " said Warner, "that seventy per cent of our work henceforthwill be marching through the mud, and thirty per cent of it will befighting the rebels in Fort Henry. I hear that we're not to attack untiltomorrow, so I mean to sleep on top of a cannon tonight, lest I sink outof sight in the mud while I'm asleep. "

"There's some pleasure, " said Pennington, "in knowing that we won't dieof thirst. You could hardly call this a parched and burning desert. "

But as they worked all the remainder of the day on the construction ofthe camp, they did not care where they slept. When their work wasover they simply dropped where they stood and slumbered soundly untilmorning. 

The day opened with a mixture of rain, snow, and fiercely cold winds. Grant's army moved out of its camp to make the attack, but it washampered by the terrible weather and the vast swamp through which itscourse must lead. Colonel Winchester, who knew the country betterthan any other high officer, was sent ahead on horseback with a smalldetachment to examine the way. He naturally took Dick and Pennington, who were on his staff, and by request, Colonel Newcomb, Major Hertford, Warner and Sergeant Whitley went also. The whole party numbered about ahundred men. 

Dick and the other lads rejoiced over their mission. It was better toride ahead than to remain with an army that was pulling itself alongslowly through the mud. The fort itself was only about three miles away, and as it stood upon low, marshy ground, the backwater from the floodedTennessee had almost surrounded it. 

Despite their horses, Winchester's men found their own advance slow. They had to make many a twist and turn to avoid marshes and deep waterbefore they came within the sight of the fort, and then Dick's watchtold him that it was nearly noon, the time for the concerted attacks ofarmy and fleet. But it was certain now that the army could not get upuntil several hours later, and he wondered what would happen. 

They saw the fort very clearly from their position on a low hill, and they saw that the main Confederate force was gathered on a heightoutside, connected with the fort, and as well as he could judge, themass seemed to number three or four thousand men. 

"What does that mean?" he asked Colonel Winchester. 

"I surmise, " replied the colonel, "that Tilghman, the Confederatecommander, is afraid his men may be caught in a trap. We know his troopsare merely raw militia, and he has put them where they can retreat incase of defeat. He, himself, with his trained cannoneers, is inside thefort. "

"There can be no attack until tomorrow, " said Colonel Newcomb. "It willbe impossible for General Grant's army to get here in time. "

"You are certainly right about the army, but I'm not so sure that you'reright about the attack. Look what's coming up the river. "

"The fleet!" exclaimed Newcomb in excitement. "As sure as I'm here it'sthe fleet, advancing to make the attack alone. Foote is a daring andenergetic man, and the failure of the army to co-operate will not keephim back. "

"Daring and energy, seventy per cent, at least, " Dick heard Warnermurmur, but he paid no more attention to his comrades because all hisinterest was absorbed in the thrilling spectacle that was about to beunfolded before them. 

The fleet, the armor clads, the floating batteries, and the mortarboats, were coming straight toward the fort. Colonel Winchester lentDick his glasses for a moment, and the boy plainly saw the great, yawning mouths of the mortars. Then he passed the glasses back to thecolonel, but he was able to see well what followed with the naked eye. The fleet came on, steady, but yet silent. 

There was a sudden roar, a flash of fire and a shell was discharged fromone of the seventeen great guns in the fort. But it passed over theboat at which it was aimed, and a fountain of water spurted up where itstruck. The other guns replied rapidly, and the fleet, with a terrificroar, replied. It seemed to Dick that the whole earth shook with theconfusion. Through the smoke and flame he saw the water gushing up infountains, and he also saw earth and masonry flying from the fort. 

"It's a fine fight, " said Colonel Winchester, suppressed excitementshowing in his tone. "By George, the fleet is coming closer. Not a boathas been sunk! What a tremendous roar those mortars make. Look! One oftheir shells has burst directly on the fort!"

The fleet, single handed, was certainly making a determined and powerfulattack upon the fort, which standing upon low, marshy ground, was notmuch above the level of the boats, and offered a fair target to theirgreat guns. Both fort and fleet were now enveloped in a great cloud ofsmoke, but it was repeatedly rent asunder by the flashing of the greatguns, and, rapt by the spectacle from which he could not take his eyes, Dick saw that all the vessels of the fleet were still afloat and werecrowding closer and closer. 

The artillery kept up a steady crash now, punctuated by the hollowboom of the great mortars, which threw huge, curving shells. The smokefloated far up and down the river, and the Southern troops on the heightadjoining the fort moved back and forth uneasily, uncertain what to do. Finally they broke and retreated into the forest. 

But General Tilghman, the Confederate commander, and the heroic gunnersinside the fort, only sixty in number, made the most heroic resistance. The armor clad boats were only six hundred yards away now, and werepouring upon them a perfect storm of fire. 

Their intrenchments, placed too low, gave them no advantage over thevessels. Shells and solid shot rained upon them. Some of the guns wereexploded and others dismounted by this terrible shower, but they did notyet give up. As fast as they could load and fire the little band sentback their own fire at the black hulks that showed through the smoke. 

"The fleet will win, " Dick heard Colonel Winchester murmur. "Look howmagnificently it is handled, and it converges closer and closer. Afortification located as this one is cannot stand forever a fire likethat. "

But the fleet was not escaping unharmed. A shell burst the boiler of theEssex, killing and wounding twenty-nine men. Nevertheless, the fire ofthe boats increased rather than diminished, and Dick saw that ColonelWinchester's words were bound to come true. 

Inside the fort there was only depression. It had been raked throughby shells and solid shot. Most of the devoted band were wounded andscarcely a gun could be worked. Tilghman, standing amid his dead andwounded, saw that hope was no longer left, and gave the signal. 

Dick and his comrades uttered a great shout as they saw the white flaggo up over Fort Henry, and then the cannonade ceased, like a mightycrash of thunder that had rolled suddenly across the sky. 

CHAPTER X. BEFORE DONELSON

Dick was the first in Colonel Winchester's troop to see the white flagfloating over Fort Henry and he uttered a shout of joy. 

"Look! look!" he cried, "the fleet has taken the fort!"

"So it has, " said Colonel Winchester, "and the army is not here. Now Iwonder what General Grant will say when he learns that Foote has donethe work before he could come. "

But Dick believed that General Grant would find no fault, that he wouldapprove instead. The feeling was already spreading among the soldiersthat this man, whose name was recently so new among them, cared onlyfor results. He was not one to fight over precedence and to feel pettyjealousies. 

The smoke of battle was beginning to clear away. Officers were landingfrom the boats to receive the surrender of the fort, and ColonelWinchester and his troops galloped rapidly back toward the army, whichthey soon met, toiling through swamps and even through shallow overflowtoward the Tennessee. The men had been hearing for more than an hour thesteady booming of the cannon, and every face was eager. 

Colonel Winchester rode straight toward a short, thickset figure on astout bay horse near the head of one of the columns. This man, like allthe others, was plastered with mud, but Colonel Winchester gave him asalute of deep respect. 

"What does the cessation of firing mean, Colonel?" asked General Grant. 

"It means that Fort Henry has surrendered to the fleet. The Southernforce, which was drawn up outside, retreated southward, but the fort, its guns and immediate defenders, are ours. "

Dick saw the faintest smile of satisfaction pass over the face of theGeneral, who said:

"Commodore Foote has done well. Ride back and tell him that the army iscoming up as fast as the nature of the ground will allow. "

In a short time the army was in the fort which had been taken sogallantly by the navy, and Grant, his generals, and Commodore Foote, were in anxious consultation. Most of the troops were soon camped onthe height, where the Southern force had stood, and there was greatexultation, but Dick, who had now seen so much, knew that the highofficers considered this only a beginning. 

Across the narrow stretch of land on the parallel river, the Cumberland, stood the great fort of Donelson. Henry was a small affair compared withit. It was likely that men who had been stationed at Henry had retreatedthere, and other formidable forces were marching to the same place. TheConfederate commander, Johnston, after the destruction of hiseastern wing at Mill Spring by Thomas, was drawing in his forces andconcentrating. The news of the loss of Fort Henry would cause him tohasten his operations. He was rapidly falling back from his positionat Bowling Green in Kentucky. Buckner, with his division, was about tomarch from that place to join the garrison in Donelson, and Floyd, withanother division, would soon be on the way to the same point. Floyd hadbeen the United States Secretary of War before secession, and the Unionmen hated him. It was said that the great partisan leader, Forrest, withhis cavalry, was also at the fort. 

Much of this news was brought in by farmers, Union sympathizers, andDick and his comrades, as they sat before the fires at the close ofthe short winter day, understood the situation almost as well as thegenerals. 

"Donelson is ninety per cent and Henry only ten per cent, " said Warner. "So long as the Johnnies hold Donelson on the Cumberland, they can buildanother fort anywhere they please along the Tennessee, and stop ourfleet. This general of ours has a good notion of the value of time anda swift blow, and, although I'm neither a prophet nor the son of aprophet, I predict that he will attack Donelson at once by both land andwater. "

"How can he attack it by water?" asked Pennington. "The distance betweenthem is not great, but our ships can't steam overland from the Tennesseeto the Cumberland. "

"No, but they can steam back up the Tennessee into the Ohio, thence tothe mouth of the Cumberland, and down the Cumberland to Donelson. Itwould require only four or five days, and it will take that long for thearmy to invade from the land side. "

Dick had his doubts about the ability of the army and the fleet toco-operate. Accustomed to the energy of the Southern commanders in theeast he did not believe that Grant would be allowed to arrange thingsas he chose. But several days passed and they heard nothing from theConfederates, although Donelson was only about twenty miles away. Johnston himself, brilliant and sagacious, was not there, nor was hislieutenant, Beauregard, who had won such a great reputation by hisvictory at the first Bull Run. 

Dick was just beginning to suspect a truth that later on was to beconfirmed fully in his mind. Fortune had placed the great generals ofthe Confederacy, with the exception of Albert Sidney Johnston, in theeast, but it had been the good luck of the North to open in the westwith its best men. 

Now he saw the energy of Grant, the short man of rather insignificantappearance. Boats were sent down the Tennessee to meet anyreinforcements that might be coming, take them back to the Ohio, andthence into the Cumberland. Fresh supplies of ammunition and food werebrought up, and it became obvious to Dick that the daring commandermeant to attack Donelson, even should its garrison outnumber his ownbesieging force. 

Along a long line from Western Tennessee to Eastern Kentucky there wasa mighty stir. Johnston had perceived the energy and courage of hisopponent. He had shared the deep disappointment of all the Southernleaders when Kentucky failed to secede, but instead furnished so manythousands of fine troops to the Union army. 

Johnston, too, had noticed with alarm the tremendous outpouring ofrugged men from the states beyond the Ohio and from the far northwest. The lumbermen who came down in scores of thousands from Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota, were a stalwart crowd. War, save for thebullets and shell, offered to them no hardships to which they were notused. They had often worked for days at a time up to their waists in icywater. They had endured thirty degrees below zero without a murmur, theyhad breasted blizzard and cyclone, they could live on anything, and theycould sleep either in forest or on prairie, under the open sky. 

It was such men as these, including men of his own state, and men of theTennessee mountains, whom Johnston, who had all the qualities of a greatcommander, had to face. The forces against him were greatly superiorin number. The eastern end of his line had been crushed already atMill Spring, the extreme western end had suffered a severe blow atFort Henry, but Jefferson Davis and the Government at Richmond expectedeverything of him. And he manfully strove to do everything. 

There was a mighty marching of men, some news of which came through toDick and his comrades with Grant. Johnston with his main army, the veryflower of the western South, fell back from Bowling Green, in Kentucky, toward Nashville, the capital of Tennessee. But Buckner, with hisdivision, was sent from Bowling Green to help defend Donelson againstthe threatened attack by Grant, and he arrived there six days after thefall of Henry. On the way were the troops of Floyd, defeated in WestVirginia, but afterwards sent westward. Floyd was at the head of them. Forrest, the great cavalry leader, was also there with his horsemen. Thefort was crowded with defenders, but the slack Pillow did not yet sendforward anybody to see what Grant was doing, although he was only twentymiles away. 

All eyes were now turned upon the west. The center of action hadsuddenly shifted from Kentucky to Tennessee. The telegraph was youngyet, but it was busy. It carried many varying reports to the citiesNorth and South. The name of this new man, Grant, spelled trouble. People were beginning to talk much about him, and already some suspectedthat there was more in the back of his head than in those of far betterknown and far more pretentious northern generals in the east. None atleast could dispute the fact that he was now the one whom everybody waswatching. 

But the Southern people, few of whom knew the disparity of numbers, had the fullest confidence in the brilliant Johnston. He was more thantwenty years older than his antagonist, but his years had brought onlyexperience and many triumphs, not weakness of either mind or body. Athis right hand was the swarthy and confident Beauregard, great withthe prestige of Bull Run, and Hardee, Bragg, Breckinridge and Polk. Andthere were many brilliant colonels, too, foremost among whom was GeorgeKenton. 

A tremor passed through the North when it was learned that Grantintended to plunge into the winter forest, cross the Cumberland, andlay siege to Donelson. He was going beyond the plans of his superior, Halleck, at St. Louis. He was too daring, he would lose his army, awaydown there in the Confederacy. But others remembered his successes, particularly at Belmont and Fort Henry. They said that nothing could bewon in war without risk, and they spoke of his daring and decision. Theyrecalled, too, that he was master upon the waters, that there was noSouthern fleet to face his, as it sailed up the Southern rivers. Thetelegraph was already announcing that the gunboats, which had beenhandled with such skill and courage, would be in the Cumberland ready toco-operate with Grant when he should move on Donelson. 

Buell was moving also to form another link in the steel chain that wasintended to bind the Confederacy in the west. Here again the mastery ofthe rivers was of supreme value to the North. Buell embarked his army onboats on Green River in the very heart of Kentucky, descended that riverto the Ohio, passing down the latter to Smithland, where the Cumberland, coming up from the south, entered it, and met another convoy destinedfor the huge invasion. 

But the first convoy had come, also by boat, from another direction, and from points far distant. There were fresh regiments of farmers andpioneers from Iowa, Nebraska, and Minnesota. They were all eager, fullof enthusiasm, anxious to be led against the enemy, and confident oftriumph. 

Grant and his army, meanwhile, lying in the bleak forest beside theTennessee, knew little of what was being said of them in the great worldwithout. All their thoughts were of Donelson, across there on the otherriver, and the men asked to be led against it. Inured to the hardshipsof border life, there was little sickness among them, despite the winterand the overflow of the flooded streams. They gathered the dead woodthat littered the forest, built numerous fires, and waited as patientlyas they could for the word to march. 

The Pennsylvanians were still camped with the Kentucky regiment to whichDick now belonged, and the fifth evening after the capture of Henry heand his friends sat by one of the big fires. 

"We'll advance either tomorrow or the next day, " said Warner. "Thechances are at least ninety per cent in favor of my statement. What doyou say, sergeant?"

"I'd raise the ninety per cent to one hundred, " replied Whitley. "We areall ready an' as you've observed, gentlemen, General Grant is a man whoacts. "

"The Johnnies evidently expect us, " said Pennington. "Our scouts haveseen their cavalry in the woods watching us, but only in the last day ortwo. It's strange that they didn't begin it earlier. "

"They say that General Pillow, who commands them, isn't of much force, "said Dick. 

"Well, it looks like it, " said Warner, "but from what we hear he'll havequite an army at Donelson. General Grant will have his work cut out forhim. The Johnnies, besides having their fort, can go into battle withjust about as many men as we have, unless he waits for reinforcements, which I am quite certain he isn't going to do. "

That evening several bags of mail were brought to the camp on a smallsteamer, which had come on three rivers, the Green, the Ohio, and theTennessee, and Dick, to his great surprise and delight, received aletter from his mother. He had written several letters himself, but hehad no way of knowing until now that any of them had reached her. Onlyone had succeeded in getting through, and that had been written fromCairo. 

"My dearest son, " she wrote, "I am full of joy to know that youhave reached Cairo in safety and in health, though I dread the greatexpedition upon which you say you are going. I hear in Pendleton manyreports about General Grant. They say that he does not spare his men. The Southern sympathizers here say that he is pitiless and cares not howmany thousands of his own soldiers he may sacrifice, if he only gainshis aim. But of that I know not. I know it is a characteristic of ourpoor human nature to absolve one's own side and to accuse those on theother side. 

"I was in Pendleton this morning, and the reports are thick; thick fromboth Northerners and Southerners, that the armies are moving forwardto a great battle. They have all marched south of us, and I do not knoweither whether these reports are true or false, though I fear that theyare true. Your uncle, Colonel Kenton, is with General Johnston, and Ihear is one of his most trusted officers. Colonel Kenton is a good man, and it would be one of the terrible tragedies of war if you and he wereto meet on the field in this great battle, which so many hear is coming. 

"I am very glad that you are now in the regiment of Colonel Winchester, and that you are an aide on his staff. It is best to be with one's ownpeople. I have known Colonel Winchester a long time, and he has all thequalities that make a man, brave and gentle. I hope that you and he willbecome the best of friends. "

There was much more in the letter, but it was only the little detailsthat concern mother and son. Dick was sitting by the fire when he readit. Then he read it a second time and a third time, folded it verycarefully and put it in the pocket in which he had carried the dispatchfrom General Thomas. 

Colonel Winchester was sitting near him, and Dick noticed again whata fine, trim man he was. Although a little over forty, his figure wasstill slender, and he had an abundant head of thick, vital hair. Hiswhole effect was that of youth. His glance met Dick's and he smiled. 

"A letter from home?" he said. 

"Yes, sir, from mother. She writes to me that she is glad I am in yourcommand. She speaks very highly of you, sir, and my mother is a woman ofuncommon penetration. "

A faint red tinted the tanned cheeks of the colonel. Dick thought it wasmerely the reflection of the fire. 

"Would you care for me to read what she says about you?" asked Dick. 

"If you don't mind. "

Dick drew out the letter again and read the paragraph. 

"Your mother is a very fine woman, " said Colonel Winchester. 

"You're right, sir, " said Dick with enthusiasm. 

Colonel Winchester said no more, but rose presently and went to the tentof General Grant, where a conference of officers was to be held. Dickremained by the fire, where Warner and Pennington soon joined him. 

"Our scouts have exchanged some shots with the enemy, " said Pennington, "and they have taken one or two prisoners, bold fellows who say they'regoing to lick the spots off us. They say they have a big army atDonelson, and they're afraid of nothing except that Grant won't come on. Between ourselves, the Johnny Rebs are getting ready for us. "

It was Dick's opinion, too, that the Southern troops were making greatpreparations to meet them, but, like the others, he was feelingthe strong hand on the reins. He did not notice here the doubt anduncertainty that had reigned at Washington before the advance onBull Run; in Grant's army were order and precision, and with perfectconfidence in his commander he rolled himself in his blankets that nightand went to sleep. 

The order to advance did not come the next morning, and Dick, for a fewmoments, thought it might not come at all. The reports from Donelsonwere of a formidable nature, and Grant's own army was not provided for awinter campaign. It had few wagons for food and ammunition, and some ofthe regiments from the northwest, cherishing the delusion that winterin Tennessee was not cold, were not provided with warm clothing andsufficient blankets. 

But Warner abated his confidence not one jot. 

"The chance of our moving against Donelson is one hundred per cent, " hesaid. "I passed the General today and his lips were shut tight together, which means a resolve to do at all costs what one has intended to do. Istill admit that the prophets and the sons of prophets live no more, butI predict with absolute certainty that we will move in the morning. "

The Vermonter's faith was justified. The army, being put in thoroughtrim, started at dawn upon its momentous march. Wintry fogs were risingfrom the great river and the submerged lowlands, and the air was full ofraw, penetrating chill. An abundant breakfast was served to everybody, and then with warmth and courage the lads of the west and northwestmarched forward with eagerness to an undertaking which they knew wouldbe far greater than the capture of Fort Henry. 

Dick and Pennington, as staff officers, were mounted, although thehorses that had been furnished to them were not much more than ponies. Warner rode with Colonel Newcomb and Major Hertford, who led the slenderPennsylvania detachment beside the Kentucky regiment. Thus the armyemerged from its camp and began the march toward the Cumberland. It wasnow about fifteen thousand strong, but it expected reinforcements, andits fleet held the command of the rivers. 

As they entered the leafless forest Dick saw ahead of them, perhapsa quarter of a mile away, a numerous band of horsemen wearing fadedConfederate gray. They were the cavalry of Forrest, but they were toofew to stay the Union advances. There was a scattered firing of rifles, but the heavy brigades of Grant moved steadily on, and pushed them outof the way. Forrest could do no more than gallop back to the fort withhis men and report that the enemy was coming at last. 

"Those fellows ride well, " said Pennington, as the last of Forrest'scavalrymen passed out of sight, "and if we were not in such strong forceI fancy they would sting us pretty hard. "

"We'll see more of 'em, " said Dick. "This is the enemy's country, and weneedn't think that we're going to march as easy as you please from onevictory to another. "

"Maybe not, " said Pennington, "but I'll be glad when we get Donelson. I've been hearing so much about that place that I'm growing realcurious. "

Their march across the woods suffered no further interruption. Sometimesthey saw Confederate cavalrymen at a distance in front, but they did nottry to impede Grant's advance. When the sun was well down in the west, the vanguard of the army came within sight of the fortress that stoodby the Cumberland. At that very moment the troops under Floyd, justarrived, were crossing the river to join the garrison in the fortress. 

Dick looked upon extensive fortifications, a large fort, a redoubt uponslightly higher ground, other batteries at the water's edge, powerfulbatteries upon a semi-circular hill which could command the river for along distance, and around all of these extensive works, several milesin length, including a deep creek on the north. Inside the works was thelittle town of Dover, and they were defended by fifteen thousand men, asmany as Grant had without. 

When Dick beheld this formidable position bristling with cannon, riflesand bayonets, his heart sank within him. How could one army defeatanother, as numerous as itself, inside powerful intrenchments, and inits own country? Nor could they prevent Southern reinforcements fromreaching the other side of the river and crossing to the fort under theshelter of its numerous great guns. He was yet to learn the truth, orat least the partial truth, of Napoleon's famous saying, that in war anarmy is nothing, a man is everything. The army to which he belongedwas led by a man of clear vision and undaunted resolution. The chiefcommander inside the fort had neither, and his men were shaken alreadyby the news of Fort Henry, exaggerated in the telling. 

But after the first sinking of the heart Dick felt an extraordinarythrill. Sensitive and imaginative, he was conscious even at the momentthat he looked in the face of mighty events. The things of the minutedid not always appeal to him with the greatest force. He had, instead, the foreseeing mind, and the meaning of that vast panorama of fortress, hills, river and forest did not escape him. 

"Well, Dick, what do you think of it?" asked Pennington. 

"We've got our work cut out for us, and if I didn't know General GrantI'd say that we're engaged in a mighty rash undertaking. "

"Just what I'd say, also. And we need that fleet bad, too, Dick. I'dlike to see the smoke of its funnels as the boats come steaming up theCumberland. "

Dick knew that the fleet was needed, not alone for encouragement andfighting help, but to supply an even greater want. Grant's army wasshort of both food and ammunition. The afternoon had turned warm, andmany of the northwestern lads, still clinging to their illusions aboutthe climate of the lower Mississippi Valley, had dropped their blankets. Now, with the setting sun, the raw, penetrating chill was coming back, and they shivered in every bone. 

But the Union army, in spite of everything, gradually spread out andenfolded the whole fortress, save on the northern side where HickmanCreek flowed, deep and impassable. The general's own headquarters weredue west of Fort Donelson, and Colonel Winchester's Kentucky regimentwas stationed close by. 

Low campfires burned along the long line of the Northern army, and Dickand others who sat beside him saw many lights inside the great enclosureheld by the South. An occasional report was heard, but it was onlythe pickets exchanging shots at long range and without hurt. Dick andPennington wrapped their blankets about them and sat with their backsagainst a log, ready for any command from Colonel Winchester. Now andthen they were sent with orders, because there was much moving to andfro, the placing of men in position and the bringing up of cannon. 

Thus the night moved slowly on, raw, cold and dark. Mists and fogs rosefrom the Cumberland as they had risen from the Tennessee. This, too, wasa great river. Dick was glad when the last of his errands was done, andhe could come back to the fire, and rest his back once more againstthe log. The fire was only a bed of coals now, but they gave out muchgrateful heat. 

Dick could see General Grant's tent from where he sat. Officers of highrank were still entering it or leaving it, and he was quite sure thatthey were planning an attack on the morrow. 

But the idea of an assault did not greatly move him now. He was tootired and sleepy to have more than a vague impression of anything. Hesaw the coals glowing before him, and then he did not see them. He hadgone sound asleep in an instant. 

The next morning was gray and troubled, with heavy clouds, rollingacross the sky. The rising sun was blurred by them, and as the men atetheir breakfasts some of the great guns from the fort began to fire atthe presumptuous besieger. The heavy reports rolled sullenly overthe desolate forests, but the Northern cannon did not yet reply. TheSouthern fire was doing no damage. It was merely a threat, a menace tothose who should dare the assault. 

Colonel Winchester signalled to Dick and Pennington, and mounting theirhorses they rode with him to the crest of the highest adjacent hill. Presently General Grant came and with him were the generals, McClernandand Smith. Colonel Newcomb also arrived, attended by Warner. The highofficers examined the fort a long time through their glasses, but Dicknoticed that at times they watched the river. He knew they were lookingthere for the black plumes of smoke which should mark the coming of thesteamers out of the Ohio. 

But nothing showed on the surface of the Cumberland. The river, darkgray under lowering clouds, flowed placidly on, washing the base of FortDonelson. At intervals of a minute or two there was a flash of firefrom the fort, and the menacing boom of the cannon rolled through thedesolate forest. Now and then, a gun from one of the Northern batteriesreplied. But it was as yet a desultory battle, with much noise andlittle danger, merely a threat of what was to come. 

After a while Colonel Winchester wrote something on a slip of paper:

"Take this to our lieutenant-colonel, " he said. "It is an order for theregiment to hold itself in complete readiness, although no action maycome for some time. Then return here at once. "

Dick rode back swiftly, but on his way he suddenly bent over his saddlebow. A shell from the fort screamed over his head in such a menacingfashion that it seemed to be only a few inches from him. But it passedon, leaving him unharmed, and burst three hundred yards away. 

Dick instantly straightened up in the saddle, looked around, breathed asigh of relief when he saw that no one had noticed his sudden bow, andgalloped on with the order. The lieutenant-colonel read it and nodded. Then Dick rode back to the hill where the generals were yet watching invain for those black plumes of smoke on the Cumberland. 

They left the hill at last and the generals went to their brigades. General Grant was smoking a cigar and his face was impassive. 

"We're to open soon with the artillery, " said Colonel Winchester toDick. "General Grant means to push things. "

The desultory firing, those warning guns, ceased entirely, and for awhile both armies stood in almost complete silence. Then a Northernbattery on the right opened with a tremendous crash and the battle forDonelson had begun. A Southern battery replied at once and the firingspread along the whole vast curve. Shells and solid shot whistledthrough the air, but the troops back of the guns crouched in hastyentrenchments, and waited. 

The great artillery combat went on for some time. To many of the ladson either side it seemed for hours. Then the guns on the Northern sideceased suddenly, bugles sounded, and the regiments, drawn up in line, rushed at the outer fortifications. 

Colonel Winchester and his staff had dismounted, but Dick andPennington, keeping by the colonel's side, drew their swords and rushedon shouting. The Southerners inside the fort fired their cannon as fastas they could now, and at closer range opened with the rifles. Dickheard once again that terrible shrieking of metal so close to his ears, and then he heard, too, cries of pain. Many of the young soldiers behindhim were falling. 

The fire now grew so hot and deadly that the Union regiments were forcedto give ground. It was evident that they could not carry the formidableearthworks, but on the right, where Dick's regiment charged, and justabove the little town of Dover, they pressed in far enough to securesome hills that protected them from the fire of the enemy, and fromwhich Southern cannon and rifles could not drive them. Then, at theorder of Grant, his troops withdrew elsewhere and the battle of theday ceased. But on the low hills above Dover, which they had taken, theUnion regiments held their ground, and from their position the Northerncannon could threaten the interior of the Southern lines. 

Dick's regiment stood here, and beside them were the few companiesof Pennsylvanians so far from their native state. Neither Dick norPennington was wounded. Warner had a bandaged arm, but the wound was soslight that it would not incapacitate him. The officers were unhurt. 

"They've driven our army back, " said Pennington, "and it was not so hardfor them to do it either. How can we ever defeat an army as large as ourown inside powerful works?"

But Dick was learning fast and he had a keen eye. 

"We have not failed utterly, " he said. "Don't you see that we have herea projection into the enemy's lines, and if those reinforcements come itwill be thrust further and further? I tell you that general of ours is abull dog. He will never let go. "

Yet there was little but gloom in the Union camp. The short winter day, somber and heavy with clouds, was drawing to a close. The field uponwhich the assault had taken place was within the sweep of the Southernguns. Some of the Northern wounded had crawled away or had been carriedto their own camp, but others and the numerous dead still lay upon theground. 

The cold increased. The Southern winter is subject to violent changes. The clouds which had floated up without ceasing were massing heavily. Now the young troops regretted bitterly the blankets that they haddropped on the way or left at Fort Henry. Detachments were sent back toregain as many as possible, but long before they could return a sharpwind with an edge of ice sprang up, the clouds opened and great flakespoured down, driven into the eyes of the soldiers by the wind. 

The situation was enough to cause the stoutest heart to weaken, but theunflinching Grant held on. The Confederate army within the works wassheltered at least in part, but his own, outside, and with the desolateforest rimming it around, lay exposed fully to the storm. Dick, atintervals, saw the short, thickset figure of the commander passing amongthe men, and giving them orders or encouragement. Once he saw hisface clearly. The lips were pressed tightly together, and the wholecountenance expressed the grimmest determination. Dick was confirmedanew in his belief that the chief would never turn back. 

The spectacle, nevertheless, was appalling. The snow drove harder andharder. It was not merely a passing shower of flakes. It was a storm. The snow soon lay upon the ground an inch deep, then three inches, then four and still it gained. Through the darkness and the storm theSouthern cannon crashed at intervals, sending shells at random intothe Union camp or over it. There was full need then for the indomitablespirit of Grant and those around him to encourage anew the thousands ofboys who had so lately left the farms or the lumber yards. 

Dick and his comrades, careless of the risk, searched over thebattlefield for the wounded who were yet there. They carried lanterns, but the darkness was so great and the snow drove so hard and lay so deepthat they knew many would never be found. 

Back beyond the range of the fort's cannon men were building fires withwhat wood they could secure from the forest. All the tents they had wereset up, and the men tried to cook food and make coffee, in order thatsome degree of warmth and cheer might be provided for the army beset sosorely. 

The snow, after a while, slackening somewhat, was succeeded by cold muchgreater than ever. The shivering men bent over the fires and lamentedanew the discarded blankets. Dick did not sleep an instant that terriblenight. He could not. He, Pennington, and Warner, relieved from staffservice, worked all through the cold and darkness, helping the woundedand seeking wood for the fires. And with them always was the wiseSergeant Whitley, to whom, although inferior in rank, they turned oftenand willingly for guidance and advice. 

"It's an awful situation, " said Pennington; "I knew that war wouldfurnish horrors, but I didn't expect anything like this. "

"But General Grant will never retreat, " said Dick. "I feel it in everybone of me. I've seen his face tonight. "

"No, he won't, " said the experienced sergeant, "because he's makingevery preparation to stay. An' remember, Mr. Pennington, that while thisis pretty bad, worse can happen. Remember, too, that while we can standthis, we can also stand whatever worse may come. It's goin' to be afight to a finish. "

Far in the night the occasional guns from the Southern fortress ceased. The snow was falling no longer, but it lay very deep on the ground, andthe cold was at its height. Along a line of miles the fires burned andthe men crowded about them. But Dick, who had been working on the snowyplain that was the battlefield, and who had heard many moans there, nowheard none. All who lay in that space were sleeping the common sleep ofdeath, their bodies frozen stiff and hard under the snow. 

Dick, sitting by one of the fires, saw the cold dawn come, and in thosechill hours of nervous exhaustion he lost hope for a moment or two. How could anybody, no matter how resolute, maintain a siege withoutammunition and without food. But he spoke cheerfully to Pennington andWarner, who had slept a little and who were just awakening. 

The pale and wintry sun showed the defiant Stars and Bars floatingover Donelson, and Dick from his hill could see men moving inside theearthworks. Certainly the Southern flags had a right to wave defiance atthe besieging army, which was now slowly and painfully rising from thesnow, and lighting the fires anew. 

"Well, what's the program today, Dick?" asked Pennington. 

"I don't know, but it's quite certain that we won't attempt anotherassault. It's hopeless. "

"That's true, " said Warner, who was standing by, "but we--hark, what wasthat?"

The boom of a cannon echoed over the fort and forest, and then anotherand another. To the northward they saw thin black spires of smoke underthe horizon. 

"It's the fleet! It's the fleet!" cried Warner joyously, "coming up theCumberland to our help! Oh, you men of Donelson, we're around you now, and you'll never shake us off!"

Again came the crash of great guns from the fleet, and the crash of theSouthern water batteries replying. 

CHAPTER XI. THE SOUTHERN ATTACK

The excitement in the Union army was intense and joyous. The cheersrolled like volleys among these farmer lads of the West. Dick, Warnerand Pennington stood up and shouted with the rest. 

"I should judge that our chances of success have increased at leastfifty, yes sixty, per cent, " said Warner. "As we have remarked before, this control of the water is a mighty thing. We fight the Johnnie Rebsfor the land, but we have the water already. Look at those gunboats, will you? Aren't they the sauciest little things you ever saw?"

Once more the navy was showing, as it has always shown throughoutits career, its daring and brilliant qualities. Foote, the commodore, although he had had no time to repair his four small fighting boatsafter the encounter with Fort Henry, steamed straight up the riverand engaged the concentric fire from the great guns of the Southernbatteries, which opened upon him with a tremendous crash. The boyswatched the duel with amazement. They did not believe that small vesselscould live under such fire, but live they did. Great columns of smokefloated over them and hid them at times from the watchers, but when thesmoke lifted a little or was split apart by the shattering fire of theguns the black hulls of the gunboats always reappeared, and now theywere not more than three or four hundred yards from Donelson. 

"I take it that this is a coverin' fire, " said Sergeant Whitley, who stood by. "Four little vessels could not expect to reduce such apowerful fortress as Donelson. It's not Fort Henry that they're fightin'now. "

"The chances are at least ninety-five per cent in favor of yoursupposition, " said Warner. 

The sergeant's theory, in fact, was absolutely correct. Further downthe river the transports were unloading regiment after regiment offresh troops, and vast supplies of ammunition and provisions. Soon fivethousand men were formed in line and marched to Grant's relief, whilelong lines of wagons brought up the stores so badly needed. Now thestern and silent general was able to make the investment complete, butthe fiery little fleet did not cease to push the attack. 

There was a time when it seemed that the gunboats would be able to passthe fortress and rake it from a point up the river. Many of the guns inthe water batteries had been silenced, but the final achievement was toogreat for so small a force. The rudder of one of Foote's gunboats wasshot away, the wheel of another soon went the same way, and both driftedhelplessly down the stream. The other two then retreated, and the fireof both fort and fleet ceased. 

But there was joy in the Union camp. The soldiers had an abundanceof food now, and soon the long ring of fires showed that they werepreparing it. Their forces had been increased a third, and there was afresh outburst of courage and vigor. But Grant ordered no more attacksat present. After the men had eaten and rested a little, picks andspades were swung along a line miles in length. He was fortifying hisown position, and it was evident to his men that he meant to stay thereuntil he won or was destroyed. 

Dick was conscious once more of a sanguine thrill. Like the others, hefelt the strong hand over him, and the certainty that they were led withjudgment and decision made him believe that all things were possible. Yet the work of fortifying continued but a little while. The men wereexhausted by cold and fatigue, and were compelled to lay down theirtools. The fires were built anew, and they hovered about them forshelter and rest. 

The wan twilight showed the close of the wintry day, and with theincreasing chill a part of Dick's sanguine feeling departed. The gallantlittle fleet, although it had brought fresh men and supplies and hadprotected their landing, had been driven back. The investment of thefort was complete only on one side of the river, and steamers coming upthe Cumberland from Nashville might yet take off the garrison in safety. Then the work of the silent general, all their hardship and fightingwould be at least in part a failure. The Vermont youth, who seemed to bealways of the same temper, neither very high nor very low, noticed hischange of expression. 

"Don't let your hopes decrease, Dick, " he said. "Remember that at leasttwenty per cent of the decline is due to the darkness and inaction. In the morning, when the light comes once more, and we're up and doingagain, you'll get back all the twenty per cent you're losing now. "

"It's not to be all inaction with you boys tonight, even, " said ColonelWinchester, who overheard his closing words. "I want you three to gowith me on a tour of inspection or rather scouting duty. It may pleaseyou to know that it is the special wish of General Grant. Aware that Ihad some knowledge of the country, he has detailed me for the duty, andI choose you as my assistants. I'm sure that the skill and danger such atask requires will make you all the more eager for it. "

The three youths responded quickly and with zeal, and Sergeant Whitley, when he was chosen, too, nodded in silent gratitude. The night was dark, overcast with clouds, and in an hour Colonel Winchester with his fourdeparted upon his perilous mission. He was to secure information inregard to the Southern army, and to do that they were to go very nearthe Southern lines, if not actually inside them. Such an attempt wouldbe hazardous in the extreme in the face of a vigilant watch; but on theother hand they would be aided by the fact that both North and Southwere of like blood and language. Even more, many of those in theopposing camps came from the same localities, and often were of kin. 

Dick's regiment had been stationed at the southern end of the line, nearthe little town of Dover, but they now advanced northward and westward, marching for a long time along their inner line. It was ColonelWinchester's intention to reach Hickman Creek, which formed theirnorthern barrier, creep in the fringe of bushes on its banks, and thenapproach the fort. 

When they reached the desired point the night was well advanced, andyet dark with the somber clouds hanging over river and fort and fieldof battle. The wind blew out of the northwest, sharp and intensely cold. The snow crunched under their feet. But the four had wrapped themselvesin heavy overcoats, and they were so engrossed in their mission thatneither wind nor snow was anything to them. 

They passed along the bank of the creek, keeping well within the shadowof the bushes, leaving behind them the last outpost of the Union army, and then slowly drew near to the fort. They saw before them many lightsburning in the darkness, and at last they discerned dim figures walkingback and forth. Dick knew that these were the Southern sentinels. Thefour went a little nearer, and then crouched down in the snow among somelow bushes. 

Now they saw the Southern sentinels more distinctly. Some, in fact, weresilhouetted sharply as they passed before the Southern fires. Northernsharpshooters could have crept up and picked off many of them, as theSouthern sharpshooters in turn might have served many of the Northernwatchers, but in this mighty war there was little of such useless andmerciless enterprise. The men soon ceased to have personal animosity, and, in the nights between the great battles, when the armies yetlay face to face, the hostile pickets would often exchange gossip andtobacco. Even in a conflict waged so long and with such desperation theessential kindliness of human nature would assert itself. 

The four, as they skirted the Southern line, noticed no signs of furtherpreparations by the Confederates. No men were throwing up earthworks ordigging trenches. As well as they could surmise, the garrison, like thebesieging army, was seeking shelter and rest, and from this fact thekeen mind of Colonel Arthur Winchester divined that the defense wasconfused and headless. 

Colonel Winchester knew most of the leaders within Donelson. He knewthat Pillow was not of a strong and decided nature. Nor was Floyd, whowould rank first, of great military capacity. Buckner had talent and hehad served gallantly in the Mexican War, but he could not prevail overthe others. The fame of Forrest, the Tennessee mountaineer, was alreadyspreading, but a cavalryman could do little for the defense of a fortbesieged by twenty thousand well equipped men, led by a general ofunexcelled resolution. 

All that Colonel Winchester surmised was true. Inside the fort confusionand doubt reigned. The fleeing garrison from Fort Henry had broughtexaggerated reports of Grant's army. Very few of the thousands of youngtroops had ever been in battle before. They, too, suffered though ina less degree from cold and fatigue, but many were wounded. Pillow andFloyd, who had just arrived with his troops, talked of one thing andthen another. Floyd, who might have sent word to his valiant and ablechief, Johnston, did not take the trouble or forgot to inform him of hisposition. Buckner wanted to attack Grant the next morning with the fullSouthern strength, and a comrade of his on old battlefields, ColonelGeorge Kenton, seconded him ably. The black-bearded Forrest strode backand forth, striking the tops of his riding boots with a small ridingwhip, and saying ungrammatically, but tersely and emphatically:

"We mustn't stay here like hogs in a pen. We must git at 'em with allour men afore they can git at us. "

The illiterate mountaineer and stock driver had evolved exactly the sameprinciple of war that Napoleon used. 

But Colonel Winchester and his comrades could only guess at what wasgoing on in Donelson, and a guess always remains to be proved. So theymust continue their perilous quest. Once they were hailed by a Southernsentinel, but Colonel Winchester replied promptly that they belonged toBuckner's Kentuckians and had been sent out to examine the Union camp. He passed it off with such boldness and decision that they were gonebefore the picket had time to express a doubt. 

But as they came toward the center of the line, and drew nearer to thefort itself, they met another picket, who was either more watchful ormore acute. He hailed them at a range of forty or fifty yards, and whenColonel Winchester made the same reply he ordered them to halt and givethe countersign. When no answer came he fired instantly at the tallfigure of Colonel Winchester and uttered a loud cry of, "Yankees!"

Luckily the dim light was tricky and his bullet merely clipped thecolonel's hair. But there was nothing for the four to do now save to runwith all their undignified might for their own camp. 

"Come on, lads!" shouted Colonel Winchester. "Our scouting is over forthe time!"

The region behind them contained patches of scrub oaks and bushes, andwith their aid and that of the darkness, it was not difficult to escape;but Dick, while running just behind the others, stepped in a hole andfell. The snow and the dead leaves hid the sound of his fall andthe others did not notice it. As he looked up he saw their dim formsdisappearing among the bushes. He rose to his own feet, but uttereda little cry as a ligament in his ankle sent a warning throb of painthrough his body. 

It was not a wrench, only a bruise, and as he stretched his ankle a fewtimes the soreness went away. But the last sound made by the retreatingfootsteps of his comrades had died, and their place had been taken bythose of his pursuers, who were now drawing very near. 

Dick had no intention of being captured, and, turning off at a rightangle, he dropped into a gully which he encountered among some bushes. The gully was about four feet deep and half full of snow. Dick threwhimself full length on his side, and sank down in the snow until he wasnearly covered. There he lay panting hard for a few moments, but quitesure that he was safe from discovery. Only a long and most minutesearch would be likely to reveal the dark line in the snow beneath theoverhanging bushes. 

Dick's heart presently resumed its normal beat, and then he heard thesound of voices and footsteps. Some one said:

"They went this way, sir, but they were running pretty fast. "

"They'd good cause to run, " said a brusque voice. "You'd a done it, too, if you'd expected to have the bullets of a whole army barkin' at yourheels. "

The footsteps came nearer, crunching on the snow, which lay deep thereamong the bushes. They could not be more than a dozen feet away, butDick quivered only a little. Buried as he was and with the hangingbushes over him he was still confident that no one could see him. Heraised himself the least bit, and looking through the boughs, saw atanned and dark face under the broad brim of a Confederate hat. Justthen some one said:

"We might have trailed 'em, general, but the snow an' the earth havealready been tramped all up by the army. "

"They're not wuth huntin' long anyway, " said the same brusque voice. "Afew Yankees prowlin' about in the night can't do us much harm. It's hardfightin' that'll settle our quarrel. "

General Forrest came a little closer and Dick, from his concealmentin the snow, surmising his identity, saw him clearly, although himselfunseen. He was fascinated by the stern, dark countenance. The face ofthe unlettered mountaineer was cut sharp and clear, and he had the lookof one who knew and commanded. In war he was a natural leader of men, and he had already assumed the position. 

"Don't you agree with me, colonel?" he said over his shoulder to someone. 

"I think you're right as usual, General Forrest, " replied a voice witha cultivated intonation, and Dick started violently in his bed of snow, because he instantly recognized the voice as that of his uncle, ColonelGeorge Kenton, Harry's father. A moment later Colonel Kenton himselfstood where the moonlight fell upon his face. Dick saw that he was wornand thin, but his face had the strong and resolute look characteristicof those descended from Henry Ware, the great borderer. 

"You know, general, that I endorse all your views, " continued ColonelKenton. "We are unfortunate here in having a division of counsels, whilethe Yankees have a single and strong head. We have underrated this manGrant. Look how he surprised us and took Henry! Look how he hangs onhere! We've beaten him on land and we've driven back his fleet, buthe hangs on. To my mind he has no notion of retreating. He'll keep onpounding us as long as we are here. "

"That's his way, an' it ought to be the way of every general, " growledForrest. "You cut down a tree by keepin' on cuttin' out chips with anaxe, an' you smash up an army by hittin' an' hittin' an' keepin' onhittin'. We ought to charge right out of our works an' jump on theYankees with all our stren'th. "

The two walked on, followed by the soldiers who had come with them, andDick heard no more. But he was too cautious to stir for a long while. He lay there until the cold began to make its way through his boots andheavy overcoat. Then he rose carefully, brushed off the snow, and beganhis retreat toward the Union lines. Four or five hundred yards furtheron and he met Colonel Winchester and his own comrades come back tosearch for him. They welcomed him joyfully. 

"We did not miss you until we were nearly to our own pickets, " said thecolonel. "Then we concluded that you had fallen and had been takenby the enemy, but we intended to see if we could find you. We've beenhovering about here for some time. "

Dick told what he had seen and heard, and the colonel considered it ofmuch importance. 

"I judge from what you heard that they will attack us, " he said. "Buckner and Forrest will be strongly for it, and they're likely to havetheir way. We must report at once to General Grant. "

The Southern attack had been planned for the next morning, but it didnot come then. Pillow, for reasons unknown, decided to delay anotherday, and his fiery subordinates could do nothing but chafe and wait. Dick spent most of the day carrying orders for his chief, and thecontinuous action steadied his nerves. 

As he passed from point to point he saw that the Union army itselfwas far from ready. It was a difficult task to get twenty thousandraw farmer youths in proper position. They moved about often withoutcohesion and sometimes without understanding their orders. Greatgaps remained in the line, and a daring and skilful foe might cut thebesieging force asunder. 

But Grant had put his heavy guns in place, and throughout the day hemaintained a slow but steady fire upon the fort. Great shells and solidshot curved and fell upon Donelson. Grant did not know what damage theywere doing, but he shrewdly calculated that they would unsteady thenerves of the raw troops within. These farmer boys, as they heard theunceasing menace of the big guns, would double the numbers of their foe, and attribute to him an unrelaxing energy. 

Thus another gray day of winter wore away, and the two forces drew alittle nearer to each other. Far away the rival Presidents at Washingtonand Richmond were wondering what was happening to their armies in thedark wilderness of Western Tennessee. 

The night was more quiet than the one that had just gone before. Thebooming of the cannon as regular as the tolling of funeral bells hadceased with the darkness, but in its place the fierce winter wind hadbegun to blow again. Dick, relaxed and weary after his day's work, hovered over one of the fires and was grateful for the warmth. Hehad trodden miles through slush and snow and frozen earth, and he wasplastered to the waist with frozen mud, which now began to soften andfall off before the coals. 

Warner, who had been on active duty, too, also sank to rest with a sighof relief. 

"It's battle tomorrow, Dick, " he said, "and I don't care. As it didn'tcome off today the chances are at least eighty per cent that it willhappen the next day. You say that when you were lying in the snow lastnight, Dick, you saw your uncle and that he's a colonel in the rebelarmy. It's queer. "

"You're wrong, George, it isn't queer. We're on opposite sides, servingat the same place, and it's natural that we should meet some time orother. Oh, I tell you, you fellows from the New England and the otherNorthern States don't appreciate the sacrifices that we of the borderstates make for the Union. Up there you are safe from invasion. Yourhouses are not on the battlefields. You are all on one side. You don'thave to fight against your own kind, the people you hold most dear. And when the war is over, whether we win or lose, you'll go back tounravaged regions. "

"You wrong me there, Dick. I have thought of it. It's the people of theborder, whether North or South, who pay the biggest price. We risk ourlives, but you risk your lives also, and everything else, too. "

Dick wrapped himself in a heavy blanket, pillowed his head on a logbefore one of the fires and dozed a while. His nerves had been tried toohard to permit of easy sleep. He awoke now and then and over a wide areasaw the sinking fires and the moving forms of men. He felt that asense of uneasiness pervaded the officers. He knew that many of themconsidered their forces inadequate for the siege of a fortress defendedby a large army, but he felt with the sincerity of conviction also, thatGrant would never withdraw. 

He heard from Colonel Winchester about midnight in one of his wakefulintervals that General Grant was going down the river to see CommodoreFoote. The brave leader of the fleet had been wounded severely in thelast fight with the fort, and the general wished to confer with himabout the plan of operations. But Dick heard only vaguely. The statementmade no impression upon him at that time. Yet he was conscious thatthe feeling of uneasiness still pervaded the officers. He noticed itin Colonel Winchester's tone, and he noticed it, too, in the voices ofColonel Newcomb and Major Hertford, who came presently to confer withWinchester. 

But the boy fell into his doze again, while they were talking. Warnerand Pennington, who had done less arduous duties, were sound asleep nearhim, the low flames now and then throwing a red light on their tannedfaces. It seemed to him that it was about half way between midnight andmorning, and the hum and murmur had sunk to a mere minor note. But hissleepy eyes still saw the dim forms of men passing about, and then hefell into his uneasy doze again. 

When he awoke once more it was misty and dark, but he felt that the dawnwas near. In the east a faint tint of silver showed through the cloudsand vapors. Heavy banks of fog were rising from the Cumberland and theflooded marshes. The earth began to soften as if unlocking from the hardfrost of the night. 

Colonel Winchester stood near him and his position showed that he wasintensely awake. He was bent slightly forward, and every nerve andmuscle was strained as if he were eager to see and hear something whichhe knew was there, but which he could not yet either see or hear. 

Dick threw off his blanket and sprang to his feet. At the same momentColonel Winchester motioned him to awaken Warner and Pennington, whichhe did at once in speed and silence. That tint of silver, the lining ofthe fogs and vapors, shone more clearly through, and spread across theEast. Dick knew now that the dawn was at hand. 

The loud but mellow notes of a trumpet came from a distant point towardDonelson, and then others to right and left joined and sang the samemellow song. But it lasted only for a minute. Then it was lost in therapid crackle of rifles, which spread like a running fire along afront of miles. The sun in the east swung clear of the earth, its beamsshooting a way through fogs and vapors. The dawn had come and the attackhad come with it. 

The Southerners, ready at last, were rushing from their fort and works, and, with all the valor and fire that distinguished them upon countlessoccasions, they were hurling themselves upon their enemy. The fortresspoured out regiment after regiment. Chafing so long upon the defenseSouthern youth was now at its best. Attacking, not attacked, the farmerlads felt the spirit of battle blaze high in their breasts. The long, terrible rebel yell, destined to be heard upon so many a desperatefield, fierce upon its lower note, fierce upon its higher note, asfierce as ever upon its dying note, and coming back in echoes still asfierce, swelled over forest and fort, marsh and river. 

The crackling fire of the pickets ceased. They had been driven back in afew moments upon the army, but the whole regiment of Colonel Winchesterwas now up, rifle in hand, and on either side of it, other regimentssteadied themselves also to receive the living torrent. 

The little band of Pennsylvanians were on the left of the Kentuckiansand were practically a part of them. Colonel Newcomb and Major Hertfordstood amid their men, encouraging them to receive the shock. But Dickhad time for only a glance at these old comrades of his. The Southernwave, crested with fire and steel, was rolling swiftly upon them, and asthe Southern troops rushed on they began to fire as fast as they couldpull the trigger, fire and pull again. 

Bullets in sheets struck in the Union ranks. Hundreds of men went down. Dick heard the thud of lead and steel on flesh, and the sudden cries ofthose who were struck. It needs no small courage to hold fast againstmore than ten thousand men rushing forward at full speed and bent uponvictory or death. 

Dick felt all the pulses in his temples beating hard, and he had ahorrible impulse to break and run, but pride kept him firm. As anofficer, he had a small sword, and snatching it out he waved it, whileat the same time he shouted to the men to meet the charge. 

The Union troops returned the fire. Thousands of bullets were sentagainst the ranks of the rushing enemy. The gunners sprang to their gunsand the deep roar of the cannon rose above the crash of the small arms. But the Southern troops, the rebel yell still rolling through the woods, came on at full speed and struck the Union front. 

It seemed to Dick that he was conscious of an actual physical shock. Tanned faces and gleaming eyes were almost against his own. He lookedinto the muzzles of rifles, and he saw the morning sun flashing alongthe edges of bayonets. But the regiment, although torn by bullets, didnot give ground. The charge shivered against them, and the Southerntroops fell back. Yet it was only for a moment. They came again to bedriven back as before, and then once more they charged, while theirresolute foe swung forward to meet them rank to rank. 

Dick was not conscious of much except that he shouted continuously tothe men to stand firm, and wondered now and then why he had not beenhit. The Union men and their enemy were reeling back and forth, neitherwinning, neither losing, while the thunder of battle along a long andcurving front beat heavily on the drums of every ear. The smoke, lowdown, was scattered by the cannon and rifles, but above it gathered in agreat cloud that seemed to be shot with fire. 

The two colonels, Winchester and Newcomb, were able and valiant men. Despite their swelling losses they always filled up the ranks and heldfast to the ground upon which they had stood when they were attacked. But for the present they had no knowledge how the battle was goingelsewhere. The enemy just before them allowed no idle moments. 

Yet Grant, as happened later on at Shiloh, was taken by surprise. Whenthe first roar of the battle broke with the dawn he was away conferringwith the wounded naval commander, Foote. His right, under McClernand, had been caught napping, and eight thousand Southern troops striking itwith a tremendous impact just as the men snatched up their arms, droveit back in heavy loss and confusion. Its disaster was increased when aSouthern general, Baldwin, led a strong column down a deep ravine nearthe river and suddenly hurled it upon the wavering Union flank. 

Whole regiments retreated now, and guns were lost. The Southernofficers, their faces glowing, shouted to each other that the battlewas won. And still the combat raged without the Union commander, Grant, although he was coming now as fast as he could with the increasing roarof conflict to draw him on. The battle was lost to the North. Butit might be won back again by a general who would not quit. Only thebulldog in Grant, the tenacious death grip, could save him now. 

Dick and his friends suddenly became conscious that both on their rightand left the thunder of battle was moving back upon the Union camp. They realized now that they were only the segment of a circle extendingforward practically within the Union lines, and that the combatwas going against them. The word was given to retreat, lest they besurrounded, and they fell back slowly disputing with desperation everyfoot of ground that they gave up. Yet they left many fallen behind. Afourth of the regiment had been killed or wounded already, and therewere tears in the eyes of Colonel Winchester as he looked over the tornranks of his gallant men. 

Now the Southerners, meaning to drive victory home, were bringing uptheir reserves and pouring fresh troops upon the shattered Union front. They would have swept everything away, but in the nick of time a freshUnion brigade arrived also, supported the yielding forces and threwitself upon the enemy. 

But Grant had not yet come. It seemed that in the beginning fortuneplayed against this man of destiny, throwing all her tricks in favorof his opponents. The single time that he was away the attack bad beenmade, and if he would win back a lost battle there was great need tohurry. 

The Southern troops, exultant and full of fire and spirit, continuallyrolled back their adversaries. They wheeled more guns from the fort intoposition and opened heavily on the yielding foe. If they were beatenback at any time they always came on again, a restless wave, crestedwith fire and steel. 

Dick's regiment continued to give ground slowly. It had no choice but todo so or be destroyed. It seemed to him now that he beheld the wreckof all things. Was this to be Bull Run over again? His throat and eyesburned from the smoke and powder, and his face was black with grime. His lips were like fire to the touch of each other. He staggered in thesmoke against some one and saw that it was Warner. 

"Have we lost?" he cried. "Have we lost after doing so much?"

The lips of the Vermonter parted in a kind of savage grin. 

"I won't say we've lost, " he shouted in reply, "but I can't see anythingwe've won. "

Then he lost Warner in the smoke and the regiment retreated yet further. It was impossible to preserve cohesion or keep a line formed. TheSoutherners never ceased to press upon them with overwhelming weight. Pillow, now decisive in action, continually accumulated new forcesupon the Northern right. Every position that McClernand had held at theopening of the battle was now taken, and the Confederate general wasplanning to surround and destroy the whole Union army. Already hewas sending messengers to the telegraph with news for Johnston of hiscomplete victory. 

But the last straw had not yet been laid upon the camel's back. McClernand was beaten, but the hardy men of Kentucky, East Tennessee andthe northwest still offered desperate resistance. Conspicuous among thedefenders was the regiment of young pioneers from Nebraska, hunters, Indian fighters, boys of twenty or less, who had suffered already everyform of hardship. They stood undaunted amid the showers of bullets andshells and cried to the others to stand with them. 

Yet the condition of the Union army steadily grew worse. Dick himself, in all the smoke and shouting and confusion, could see it. The regimentsthat formed the core of resistance were being pared down continually. There was a steady dribble of fugitives to the rear, and those whofought felt themselves going back always, like one who slips on ice. 

The sun, far up the heavens, now poured down beams upon the vast cloudof smoke and vapor in which the two armies fought. The few people leftin Dover, red hot for the South, cheered madly as they saw their enemydriven further and further away. 

Grant, the man of destiny, ill clad and insignificant in appearance, nowcame upon the field and saw his beaten army. But the bulldog in him shutdown its teeth and resolved to replace defeat with victory. His greatestqualities, strength and courage in the face of disaster, were now aboutto shine forth. His countenance showed no alarm. He rode among the mencheering them to renewed efforts. He strengthened the weak places in theline that his keen eyes saw. He infused a new spirit into the army. His own iron temper took possession of the troops, and that core ofresistance, desperate when he came, suddenly hardened and enlarged. 

Dick felt the change. It was of the mind, but it was like a cool breathupon the face. It was as if the winds had begun to blow courage. A greatshout rolled along the Northern line. 

"Grant has come!" exclaimed Pennington, who was bleeding from a slightwound in the shoulder, but who was unconscious of it. "And we've quitretreating!"

The Nebraska youth had divined the truth. Just when a complete Southernvictory seemed to be certain the reversal of fortune came. The coolness, the courage, and the comprehensive eye of Grant restored the battlefor the North. The Southern reserves had not charged with the fire andspirit expected, and, met with a shattering fire by the Indiana troops, they fell back. Grant saw the opportunity, and massing every availableregiment, he hurled it upon Pillow and the Southern center. 

Dick felt the wild thrill of exultation as they went forward instead ofgoing back, as they had done for so many hours. Just in front of him wasColonel Winchester, waving aloft a sword, the blade of which had beenbroken in two by a bullet, and calling to his men to come on. Warner andPennington, grimed with smoke and mud and stained here and there withblood, were near also, shouting wildly. 

The smoke split asunder for a moment, and Dick saw the long line ofcharging troops. It seemed to be a new army now, infused with freshspirit and courage, and every pulse in the boy's body began to beatheavily with the hope of victory. The smoke closed in again and thencame the shock. 

Exhausted by their long efforts which had brought victory so near theSouthern troops gave way. Their whole center was driven in, and theylost foot by foot the ground that they had gained with so much courageand blood. Grant saw his success and he pressed more troops uponhis weakening enemy. The batteries were pushed forward and raked theshattered Southern lines. 

Pillow, who had led the attack instead of Floyd, seeing his fortunespass so suddenly from the zenith to the nadir, gathered his retreatingarmy upon a hill in front of their intrenchments, but he was notpermitted to rest there. A fresh Northern brigade, a reserve, hadjust arrived upon the field. Joining it to the forces of Lew Wallace, afterwards famous as a novelist, Grant hurled the entire division uponPillow's weakened and discouraged army. 

Winchester's regiment joined in the attack. Dick felt himself sweptalong as if by a torrent. His courage and the courage of those aroundhim was all the greater now, because hope, sanguine hope, had suddenlyshot up from the very depths of despair. Their ranks had been thinnedterribly, but they forgot it for the time and rushed upon their enemy. 

The battle had rolled back and forth for hours. Noon had come andpassed. The troops of Pillow had been fighting without ceasing forsix hours, and they could not withstand the new attack made with suchtremendous spirit and energy. They fought with desperation, but theywere compelled at last to yield the field and retreat within theirworks. Their right and left suffered the same fate. The wholeConfederate attack was repulsed. Bull Run was indeed reversed. There theSouth snatched victory from defeat and here the North came back with alike triumph. 

CHAPTER XII. GRANT'S GREAT VICTORY

The night, early and wintry, put an end to the conflict, the fiercestand greatest yet seen in the West. Thousands of dead and wounded layupon the field and the hearts of the Southern leaders were full ofbitterness. They had seen the victory, won by courage and daring, takenfrom them at the very last moment. The farmer lads whom they led hadfought with splendid courage and tenacity. Defeat was no fault oftheirs. It belonged rather to the generals, among whom had been a wantof understanding and concert, fatal on the field of action. They saw, too, that they had lost more than the battle. The Union army had notonly regained all its lost positions, but on the right it had carriedthe Southern intrenchments, and from that point Grant's great guns coulddominate Donelson. They foresaw with dismay the effect of these factsupon their young troops. 

When the night fell, and the battle ceased, save for the fitful boom ofcannon along the lines, Dick sank against an earthwork, exhausted. Hepanted for breath and was without the power to move. He regarded vaguelythe moving lights that had begun to show in the darkness, and he heardwithout comprehension the voices of men and the fitful fire of thecannon. 

"Steady, Dick! Steady!" said a cheerful voice. "Now is the time torejoice! We've won a victory, and nothing can break General Grant'sdeath grip on Donelson!"

Colonel Winchester was speaking, and he put a firm and friendly handon the boy's shoulder. Dick came back to life, and, looking intohis colonel's face, he grinned. Colonel Winchester could have beenrecognized only at close range. His face was black with burnedgunpowder. His colonel's hat was gone and his brown hair flew in everydirection. He still clenched in his hand the hilt of his sword, of whicha broken blade not more than a foot long was left. His clothing had beentorn by at least a dozen bullets, and one had made a red streak acrossthe back of his left hand, from which the blood fell slowly, drop bydrop. 

"You don't mind my telling you, colonel, that you're no beauty, " saidDick, who felt a sort of hysterical wish to laugh. "You look as if thewhole Southern army had tried to shoot you up, but had merely clippedyou all around the borders. "

"Laugh if it does you good, " replied Colonel Winchester, a littlegravely, "but, young sir, you must give me the same privilege. Thisbattle, while it has not wounded you, has covered you with its grime. Come, the fighting is over for this day at least, and the regiment isgoing to take a rest--what there is left of it. "

He spoke the last words sadly. He knew the terrible cost at which theyhad driven the Southern army back into the fort, and he feared thatthe full price was yet far from being paid. But he preserved a cheerfulmanner before the brave lads of his who had fought so well. 

Dick found that Warner and Pennington both had wounds, although theywere too slight to incapacitate them. Sergeant Whitley, grave andunhurt, rejoined them also. 

The winter night and their heavy losses could not discourage theNorthern troops. They shared the courage and tenacity of theircommander. They began to believe now that Donelson, despite its strengthand its formidable garrison, would be taken. They built the fires high, and ate heartily. They talked in sanguine tones of what they would do inthe morrow. Excited comment ran among them. They had passed from the pitof despair in the morning to the apex of hope at night. Exhausted, allsave the pickets fell asleep after a while, dreaming of fresh triumphson the morrow. 

Had Dick's eyes been able to penetrate Donelson he would have beheld avery different scene. Gloom, even more, despair, reigned there. Theirgreat effort had failed. Bravery had availed nothing. Their frightfullosses had been suffered in vain. The generals blamed one another. Floydfavored the surrender of the army, but fancying that the Union troopshated him with special vindictiveness, and that he would not be safe asa prisoner, decided to escape. 

Pillow declared that Grant could yet be beaten, but after a whilechanged to the view of Floyd. They yet had two small steamers in theCumberland which could carry them up the river. They left the commandto Buckner, the third in rank, and told him he could make the surrender. The black-bearded Forrest said grimly: "I ain't goin' to surrender mycavalry, not to nobody, " and by devious paths he led them away throughthe darkness and to liberty. Colonel George Kenton rode with him. 

The rumor that a surrender was impending spread to the soldiers. Not yetfirm in the bonds of discipline confusion ensued, and the high officerswere too busy escaping by the river to restore it. All through the nightthe two little steamers worked, but a vast majority of the troops wereleft behind. 

But Dick could know nothing of this at the time. He was sleeping tooheavily. He had merely taken a moment to snatch a bit of food, and then, at the suggestion of his commanding officer, he had rolled himself inhis blankets. Sleep came instantly, and it was not interrupted untilWarner's hand fell upon his shoulder at dawn, and Warner's voice said inhis ear:

"Wake up, Dick, and look at the white flag fluttering over Donelson. "

Dick sprang to his feet, sleep gone in an instant, and gazed towardDonelson. Warner had spoken the truth. White flags waved from the wallsand earthworks. 

"So they're going to surrender!" said Dick. "What a triumph!"

"They haven't surrendered yet, " said Colonel Winchester, who stood near. "Those white flags merely indicate a desire to talk it over with us, butsuch a desire is nearly always a sure indication of yielding, and ourlads take it so. Hark to their cheering. "

The whole Union army was on its feet now, joyously welcoming the sightof the white flags. They threw fresh fuel on their fires which blazedalong a circling rim of miles, and ate a breakfast sweetened with thesavor of triumph. 

"Take this big tin cup of coffee, Dick, " said Warner. "It'll warm youthrough and through, and we're entitled to a long, brown drink for ourvictory. I say victory because the chances are ninety-nine per cent outof a hundred that it is so. Let x equal our army, let y equal victory, and consequently x plus y equals our position at the present time. "

"And I never thought that we could do it, " said young Pennington, whosat with them. "I suppose it all comes of having a general who won'tgive up. I reckon the old saying is true, an' that Hold Fast is the bestdog of them all. "

Now came a period of waiting. Colonel Winchester disappeared in thedirection of General Grant's headquarters, but returned after a whileand called his favorite aide, young Richard Mason. 

"Dick, " he said, "we have summoned the Southerners to surrender, andI want you to go with me to a conference of their generals. You may beneeded to carry dispatches. "

Dick went gladly with the group of Union officers, who approachedFort Donelson under the white flag, and who met a group of Confederateofficers under a like white flag. He noticed in the very center of theSouthern group the figure of General Buckner, a tall, well-built manin his early prime, his face usually ruddy, now pale with fatigue andanxiety. Dick, with his uncle, Colonel Kenton, and his young cousin, Harry Kenton, had once dined at his house. 

Nearly all the officers, Northern and Southern, knew one another well. Many of them had been together at West Point. Colonel Winchester andGeneral Buckner were well acquainted and they saluted, each smiling alittle grimly. 

"I bring General Grant's demand for the surrender of Fort Donelson, andall its garrison, arms, ammunition, and other supplies, " said ColonelWinchester. "Can I see your chief, General Floyd?"

The lips of Buckner pressed close together in a smile touched withirony. 

"No, you cannot see General Floyd, " he said, "because he is now far upthe Cumberland. "

"Since he has abdicated the command I wish then to communicate withGeneral Pillow. "

"I regret that you cannot speak to him either. He is as far up theCumberland as General Floyd. Both departed in the night, and I am leftin command of the Southern army at Fort Donelson. You can state yourdemands to me, Colonel Winchester. "

Dick saw that the brave Kentuckian was struggling to hide his chagrin, and he had much sympathy for him. It was in truth a hard task thatFloyd and Pillow had left for Buckner. They had allowed themselves tobe trapped and they had thrown upon him the burden of surrendering. ButBuckner proceeded with the negotiations. Presently he noticed Dick. 

"Good morning, Richard, " he said. "It seems that in this case, at least, you have chosen the side of the victors. "

"Fortune has happened to be on our side, general, " said Dickrespectfully. "Could you tell me, sir, if my uncle, Colonel Kenton, isunhurt?"

"He was, when he was last with us, " replied General Buckner, kindly. "Colonel Kenton went out last night with Forrest's cavalry. He will notbe a prisoner. "

"I am glad of that, " said the boy. 

And he was truly glad. He knew that it would hurt Colonel Kenton's prideterribly to become a prisoner, and although they were now on oppositesides, he loved and respected his uncle. 

The negotiations were completed and before night the garrison ofDonelson, all except three thousand who had escaped in the night withFloyd and Pillow and Forrest, laid down their arms. The answer to BullRun was complete. Fifteen thousand men, sixty-five cannon, and seventeenthousand rifles and muskets were surrendered to General Grant. Thebulldog in the silent westerner had triumphed. With only a last chanceleft to him he had turned defeat into complete victory, and had dealt astunning blow to the Southern Confederacy, which was never able like theNorth to fill up its depleted ranks with fresh men. 

Time alone could reveal to many the deadly nature of this blow, butDick, who had foresight and imagination, understood it now at least inpart. As he saw the hungry Southern boys sharing the food of their lateenemies his mind traveled over the long Southern line. Thomas had beatenit in Eastern Kentucky, Grant had dealt it a far more crushing blow herein Western Kentucky, but Albert Sidney Johnston, the most formidablefoe of all, yet remained in the center. He was a veteran general witha great reputation. Nay, more, it was said by the officers who knewhim that he was a man of genius. Dick surmised that Johnston, afterthe stunning blow of Donelson, would be compelled to fall back fromTennessee, but he did not doubt that he would return again. 

Dick soon saw that all his surmises were correct. The news of Donelsonproduced for a little while a sort of paralysis at Richmond, and when itreached Nashville, where the army of Johnston was gathering, it was atfirst unbelievable. It produced so much excitement and confusion thata small brigade sent to the relief of Donelson was not called back, andmarched blindly into the little town of Dover, where it found itselfsurrounded by the whole triumphant Union army, and was compelled tosurrender without a fight. 

Panic swept through Nashville. Everybody knew that Johnston would becompelled to fall back from the Cumberland River, upon the banks ofwhich the capital of Tennessee stood. Foote and his gunboats would comesteaming up the stream into the very heart of the city. Rumor magnifiedthe number and size of his boats. Again the Southern leaders felt thatthe rivers were always a hostile coil girdling them about, and lamentedtheir own lack of a naval arm. 

Floyd had drawn off in the night from Donelson his own special commandof Virginians and when he arrived at Nashville with full news of thedefeat at the fortress, and the agreement to surrender, the panicincreased. Many had striven to believe that the reports were untrue, butnow there could be no doubt. 

And the panic gained a second impetus when the generals set fire tothe suspension bridge over the river and the docks along its banks. Theinhabitants saw the signal of doom in the sheets of flame that rolledup, and all those who had taken a leading part in the Southern causeprepared in haste to leave with Johnston's army. The roads were chokedwith vehicles and fleeing people. The State Legislature, which was thenin session, departed bodily with all the records and archives. 

But Dick, after the first hours of triumph, felt relaxed and depressed. After all, the victory was over their own people, and five thousand ofthe farmer lads, North and South, had been killed or wounded. But thisfeeling did not last long, as on the very evening of victory he wassummoned to action. Action, with him, always made the blood leap andhope rise. It was his own regimental chief, Arthur Winchester, whocalled him, and who told him to make ready for an instant departure fromDonelson. 

"You are to be a cavalryman for a while, Dick, " said Colonel Winchester. "So much has happened recently that we scarcely know how we stand. Aboveall, we do not know how the remaining Southern forces are disposed, and I have been chosen to lead a troop toward Nashville and see. You, Warner, Pennington, that very capable sergeant, Whitley, and others whomyou know are to go with me. My force will number about three hundred andthe horses are already waiting on the other side. "

They were carried over the river on one of the boats, and the littlecompany, mounting, prepared to ride into the dark woods. But before theydisappeared, Dick looked back and saw many lights gleaming in capturedDonelson. Once more the magnitude of Grant's victory impressed him. Certainly he had struck a paralyzing blow at the Southern army in thewest. 

But the ride in the dark over a wild and thinly-settled countrysoon occupied Dick's whole attention. He was on one side of ColonelWinchester and Warner was on the other. Then the others came fourabreast. At first there was some disposition to talk, but it was checkedsharply by the leader, and after a while the disposition itself waslacking. 

Colonel Winchester was a daring horseman, and Dick soon realized thatit would be no light task to follow where he led. Evidently he knew thecountry, as he rode with certainty over the worst roads that Dick hadever seen. They were deep in mud which froze at night, but not solidlyenough to keep the feet of the horses from crushing through, making acrackle as they went down and a loud, sticky sigh as they came out. Allwere spattered with mud, which froze upon them, but they were so muchinured to hardship now that they paid no attention to it. 

But this rough riding soon showed so much effect upon the horses thatColonel Winchester led aside into the woods and fields, keeping parallelwith the road. Now and then they stopped to pull down fences, but theystill made good speed. Twice they saw at some distance cabins with thesmoke yet rising from the chimneys, but the colonel did not stop to askany questions. Those he thought could be asked better further on. 

Twice they crossed creeks. One the horses could wade, but the other wasso deep that they were compelled to swim. On the further bank of thesecond they stopped a while to rest the horses and to count the men tosee that no straggler had dropped away in the darkness. Then they spranginto the saddle again and rode on as before through a country thatseemed to be abandoned. 

There was a certain thrill and exhilaration in their daring ride. Thesmoke and odors of the battle about Donelson were blown away. The deadand the wounded, the grewsome price even of victory, no longer laybefore their eyes, and the cold air rushing past freshened their bloodand gave it a new sparkle. Every one in the little column knew thatdanger was plentiful about them, but there was pleasure in action in theopen. 

Their general direction was Nashville, and now they came into a country, richer, better cultivated, and peopled more thickly. Toward night theysaw on a gentle hill in a great lawn and surrounded by fine trees alarge red brick house, with green shutters and portico supported bywhite pillars. Smoke rose from two chimneys. Colonel Winchester haltedhis troop and examined the house from a distance for a little while. 

"This is the home of wealthy people, " he said at last to Dick, "and wemay obtain some information here. At least we should try it. "

Dick had his doubts, but he said nothing. 

"You, Mr. Pennington, Mr. Warner and Sergeant Whitley, dismount withme, " continued the colonel, "and we'll try the house. "

He bade his troop remain in the road under the command of the officernext in rank, and he, with those whom he had chosen, opened the lawngate. A brick walk led to the portico and they strolled along it, theirspurs jingling. Although the smoke still rose from the chimneys no dooropened to them as they stepped into the portico. All the green shutterswere closed tightly. 

"I think they saw us in the road, " said Dick, "and this is a house ofstaunch Southern sympathizers. That is why they don't open to us. "

"Beat on the door with the hilt of your sword, sergeant, " said thecolonel to Whitley. "They're bound to answer in time. "

The sergeant beat steadily and insistently. Yet he was forced tocontinue it five or six minutes before it was thrown open. Then a tallold woman with a dignified, stern face and white hair, drawn back fromhigh brows, stood before them. But Dick's quick eyes saw in the dusk ofthe room behind her a girl of seventeen or eighteen. 

"What do you want?" asked the woman in a tone of ice. "I see that youare Yankee soldiers, and if you intend to rob the house there is no onehere to oppose you. Its sole occupants are myself, my granddaughter, andtwo colored women, our servants. But I tell you, before you begin, thatall our silver has been shipped to Nashville. "

Colonel Winchester flushed a deep crimson, and bit his lips savagely. 

"Madame, " he said, "we are not robbers and plunderers. These are regularsoldiers belonging to General Grant's army. "

"Does it make any difference? Your armies come to ravage and destroy theSouth. "

Colonel Winchester flushed again but, remembering his self-control, hesaid politely:

"Madame, I hope that our actions will prove to you that we have beenmaligned. We have not come here to rob you or disturb you in any manner. We merely wished to inquire of you if you had seen any other Southernarmed forces in this vicinity. "

"And do you think, sir, " she replied in the same uncompromising tones, "if I had seen them that I would tell you anything about it?"

"No, Madame, " replied the Colonel bowing, "whatever I may have thoughtbefore I entered your portico I do not think so now. "

"Then it gives me pleasure to bid you good evening, sir, " she said, andshut the door in his face. 

Colonel Winchester laughed rather sorely. 

"She had rather the better of me, " he said, "but we can't make war onwomen. Come on, lads, we'll ride ahead, and camp under the trees. It'seasy to obtain plenty of fuel for fires. "

"The darkness is coming fast, " said Dick, "and it is going to be verycold, as usual. "

In a half hour the day was fully gone, and, as he had foretold, thenight was sharp with chill, setting every man to shivering. They turnedaside into an oak grove and pitched their camp. It was never hard toobtain fuel, as the whole area of the great civil war was largely inforest, and the soldiers dragged up fallen brushwood in abundance. Thenthe fires sprang up and created a wide circle of light and cheerfulness. 

Dick joined zealously in the task of finding firewood and his searchtook him somewhat further than the others. He passed all the way throughthe belt of forest, and noticed fields beyond. He was about to turn backwhen he heard a faint, but regular sound. Experience told him that itwas the beat of a horse's hoofs and he knew that some distance away aroad must lead between the fields. 

He walked a hundred yards further, and climbing upon a fence waited. From his perch he could see the road about two hundred yards beyond him, and the hoof beats were rapidly growing louder. Some one was riding hardand fast. 

In a minute the horseman or rather horsewoman, came into view. There wasenough light for Dick to see the slender figure of a young girl mountedon a great bay horse. She was wrapped in a heavy cloak, but her head wasbare, and her long dark hair streamed almost straight out behind her, sogreat was the speed at which she rode. 

She struck the horse occasionally with a small riding whip, but he wasalready going like a racer. Dick remembered the slim figure of a girl, and it occurred to him suddenly that this was she whom he had seen inthe dusk of the room behind her grandmother. He wondered why she wasriding so fast, alone and in the winter night, and then he admitted witha thrill of admiration that he had never seen any one ride better. Thehoof beats rose, died away and then horse and girl were gone in thedarkness. Dick climbed down from the fence and shook himself. Was itreal or merely fancy, the product of a brain excited by so much siegeand battle?

He picked up a big dead bough in the wood, dragged it back to the campand threw it on one of the fires. 

"What are you looking so grave about, Dick?" asked Warner. 

"When I went across that stretch of woods I saw something that I didn'texpect to see. "

"What was it?"

"A girl on a big horse. They came and they went so fast that I just gota glimpse of them. "

"A girl alone, galloping on a horse on a wintry night like this througha region infested by hostile armies! Why Dick, you're seeing shadows!Better sit down and have a cup of this good hot coffee. "

But Dick shook his head. He knew now that he had seen reality, and hereported it to Colonel Winchester. 

"Are you sure it was the girl you saw at the big house?" asked ColonelWinchester. "It might have been some farmer's wife galloping home froman errand late in the evening. "

"It was the girl. I am sure of it, " said Dick confidently. 

Just at that moment Sergeant Whitley came up and saluted. 

"What is it, sergeant?" asked the Colonel. 

"I have been up the road some distance, sir, and I came to another roadthat crossed it. The second road has been cut by hoofs of eight or ninehundred horses, and I am sure, sir, that the tracks are not a day old. "

Colonel Winchester looked grave. He knew that he was deep in the countryof the enemy and he began to put together what Dick had seen and whatthe sergeant had seen. But the thought of withdrawing did not occur tohis brave soul. He had been sent on an errand by General Grant and hemeant to do it. But he changed his plans for the night. He had intendedto keep only one man in ten on watch. Instead, he kept half, andSergeant Whitley, veteran of Indian wars, murmured words of approvalunder his breath. 

Whitley and Pennington were in the early watch. Dick and Warner were tocome on later. The colonel spoke as if he would keep watch all night. All the horses were tethered carefully inside the ring of pickets. 

"It doesn't need any mathematical calculation, " said Warner, "to tellthat the colonel expects trouble of some kind tonight. What its natureis, I don't know, but I mean to go to sleep, nevertheless. I havealready seen so much of hardship and war that the mere thought of dangerdoes not trouble me. I took a fort on the Tennessee, I took a muchlarger one on the Cumberland, first defeating the enemy's army in a bigbattle, and now I am preparing to march on Nashville. Hence, I will nothave my slumbers disturbed by a mere belief that danger may come. "

"It's a good resolution, George, " said Dick, "but unlike you, I amsubject to impulses, emotions, thrills and anxieties. "

"Better cure yourself, " said the Vermonter, as he rolled himself in theblankets and put his head on his arm. In two minutes he was asleep, butDick, despite his weariness, had disturbed nerves which refused tolet him sleep for a long time. He closed his eyes repeatedly, and thenopened them again, merely to see the tethered horses, and beyond themthe circle of sentinels, a clear moonlight falling on their riflebarrels. But it was very warm and cosy in the blankets, and he wouldsoon fall asleep again. 

He was awakened about an hour after midnight to take his turn at thewatch, and he noticed that Colonel Winchester was still standing besideone of the fires, but looking very anxious. Dick felt himself on goodenough terms, despite his youth, to urge him to take rest. 

"I should like to do so, " replied Colonel Winchester, "but Dick I tellyou, although you must keep it to yourself, that I think we are in somedanger. Your glimpse of the flying horsewoman, and the undoubted factthat hundreds of horsemen have crossed the road ahead of us, have mademe put two and two together. Ah, what is it, sergeant?"

"I think I hear noises to the east of us, sir, " replied the veteran. 

"What kind of noises, sergeant?"

"I should say, sir, that they're made by the hoofs of horses. There, Ihear them again, sir. I'm quite sure of it, and they're growing louder!"

"And so do I!" exclaimed Colonel Winchester, now all life and activity. "The sounds are made by a large body of men advancing upon us! Seizethat bugle, Dick, and blow the alarm with all your might!"

Dick snatched up the bugle and blew upon it a long shrill blast thatpierced far into the forest. He blew and blew again, and every man inthe little force sprang to his feet in alarm. Nor were they a moment toosoon. From the woods to the east came the answering notes of a bugle andthen a great voice cried:

"Forward men an' wipe 'em off the face of the earth!"

It seemed to Dick that he had heard that voice before, but he had notime to think about it, as the next instant came the rush of the wildhorsemen, a thousand strong, leaning low over their saddles, theirfaces dark with the passion of anger and revenge, pistols, rifles, andcarbines flashing as they pulled the trigger, giving way when empty tosabres, which gleamed in the moonlight as they were swung by powerfulhands. 

Colonel Winchester's whole force would have been ridden down in thetwinkling of an eye if it had not been for the minute's warning. Hismen, leaping to their feet, snatched up their own rifles and fired avolley at short range. It did more execution among the horses than amongthe horsemen, and the Southern rough riders were compelled to waver fora moment. Many of their horses went down, others uttered the terribleshrieking neigh of the wounded, and, despite the efforts of those whorode them, strove to turn and flee from those flaming muzzles. It wasonly a moment, but it gave the Union troop, save those who were alreadyslain, time to spring upon their horses and draw back, at the colonel'sshouted command, to the cover of the wood. But they were driven hard. The Confederate cavalry came on again, impetuous and fierce as ever, andurged continually by the great partisan leader, Forrest, now in the verydawn of his fame. 

"It was no phantom you saw, that girl on the horse!" shouted Warner inDick's ear, and Dick nodded in return. They had no time for other words, as Forrest's horsemen, far outnumbering them, now pressed them harderthan ever. A continuous fire came from their ranks and at close rangethey rode in with the sabre. 

Dick experienced the full terror and surprise of a night battle. Theopposing forces were so close together that it was often difficultto tell friend from enemy. But Forrest's men had every advantage ofsurprise, superior numbers and perfect knowledge of the country. Dickgroaned aloud as he saw that the best they could do was to save as manyas possible. Why had he not taken a shot at the horse of that flyinggirl?

"We must keep together, Dick!" shouted Warner. "Here are Pennington andSergeant Whitley, and there's Colonel Winchester. I fancy that if we canget off with a part of our men we'll be doing well. "

Pennington's horse, shot through the head, dropped like a stone to theground, but the deft youth, used to riding the wild mustangs ofthe prairie, leaped clear, seized another which was galloping aboutriderless, and at one bound sprang into the saddle. 

"Good boy!" shouted Dick with admiration, but the next moment thehorsemen of Forrest were rushing upon them anew. More men were killed, many were taken, and Colonel Winchester, seeing the futility of furtherresistance, gathered together those who were left and took flightthrough the forest. 

Tears of mortification came to Dick's eyes, but Sergeant Whitley, whorode on his right hand, said:

"It's the only thing to do. Remember that however bad your position maybe it can always be worse. It's better for some of us to escape than forall of us to be down or be taken. "

Dick knew that his logic was good, but the mortification neverthelessremained a long time. There was some consolation, however, in the factthat his own particular friends had neither fallen nor been taken. 

They still heard the shouts of pursuing horsemen, and shots rattledabout them, but now the covering darkness was their friend. They drewslowly away from all pursuit. The shouts and the sounds of tramplinghoofs died behind them, and after two hours of hard riding ColonelWinchester drew rein and ordered a halt. 

It was a disordered and downcast company of about fifty who were left. Afew of these were wounded, but not badly enough to be disabled. ColonelWinchester's own head had been grazed, but he had bound a handkerchiefabout it, and sat very quiet in his saddle. 

"My lads, " he said, and his tone was sharp with the note of defiance. "We have been surprised by a force greatly superior to our own, andscarcely a sixth of us are left. But it was my fault. I take the blame. For the present, at least, we are safe from the enemy, and I intend tocontinue with our errand. We were to scout the country all the way toNashville. It is also possible that we will meet the division of GeneralBuell advancing to that city. Now, lads, I hope that you all will bewilling to go on with me. Are you?"

"We are!" roared fifty together, and a smile passed over the wan face ofthe colonel. But he said no more then. Instead he turned his head towardthe capital city of the state, and rode until dawn, his men followingclose behind him. The boys were weary. In truth, all of them were, butno one spoke of halting or complained in any manner. 

At sunrise they stopped in dense forest at the banks of a creek, andwatered their horses. They cooked what food they had left, and aftereating rested for several hours on the ground, most of them going tosleep, while a few men kept a vigilant watch. 

When Dick awoke it was nearly noon, and he still felt sore fromhis exertions. An hour later they all mounted and rode again towardNashville. Near night they boldly entered a small village and boughtfood. The inhabitants were all strongly Southern, but villagers love totalk, and they learned there in a manner admitting of no doubt, thatthe Confederate army was retreating southward from the line of theCumberland, that the state capital had been abandoned, and that to theeastward of them the Union army, under Buell, was advancing swiftly onNashville. 

"At least we accomplished our mission, " said Colonel Winchester withsome return of cheerfulness. "We have discovered the retreat of GeneralJohnston's whole army, and the abandonment of Nashville, invaluableinformation to General Grant. But we'll press on toward Nashvillenevertheless. "

They camped the next night in a forest and kept a most vigilant watch. If those terrible raiders led by Forrest should strike them again theycould make but little defense. 

They came the next morning upon a good road and followed it withoutinterruption until nearly noon, when they saw the glint of arms across awide field. Colonel Winchester drew his little troop back into the edgeof the woods, and put his field glasses to his eyes. 

"There are many men, riding along a road parallel to ours, " he said. "They look like an entire regiment, and by all that's lucky, they're inthe uniforms of our own troops. Yes, they're our own men. There can beno mistake. It is probably the advance guard of Buell's army. "

They still had a trumpet, and at the colonel's order it was blown longand loud. An answering call came from the men on the parallel road, andthey halted. Then Colonel Winchester's little troop galloped forwardand they were soon shaking hands with the men of a mounted regiment fromOhio. They had been sent ahead by Buell to watch Johnston's army, buthearing of the abandonment of Nashville, they were now riding straightfor the city. Colonel Winchester and his troop joined them gladly andthe colonel rode by the side of the Ohio colonel, Mitchel. 

Dick and his young comrades felt great relief. He realized the terribleactivity of Forrest, but that cavalry leader, even if he had not nowgone south, would hesitate about attacking the powerful regiment withwhich Dick now rode. Warner and Pennington shared his feelings. 

"The chances are ninety per cent in our favor, " said the Vermonter, "that we'll ride into Nashville without a fight. I've never been inTennessee before, and I'm a long way from home, but I'm curious to seethis city. I'd like to sleep in a house once more. "

They rode into Nashville the next morning amid frowning looks, but thehalf deserted city offered no resistance. 

CHAPTER XIII. IN THE FOREST

Dick spent a week or more in Nashville and he saw the arrival of one ofGeneral Grant's divisions on the fleet under Commodore Foote. Once morehe appreciated the immense value of the rivers and the fleet to theNorth. 

He and the two lads who were now knitted to him by sympathy, andhardships and dangers shared, enjoyed their stay in Nashville. It waspleasant to sleep once more in houses and to be sheltered from rain andfrost and snow. It was pleasant, too, for these youths, who were devotedto the Union, to think that their armies had made such progress in thewest. The silent and inflexible Grant had struck the first great blowfor the North. The immense Confederate line in the west was drivenfar southward, and the capital of one of the most vigorous of thesecessionist states was now held by the Union. 

But a little later, news not so pleasant came to them. The energyand success of Grant had aroused jealousy. Halleck, his superior, thegeneral of books and maps at St. Louis, said that he had transcendedthe limits of his command. He was infringing upon territory of otherNorthern generals. Halleck had not found him to be the yieldingsubordinate who would win successes and let others have the credit. 

Grant was practically relieved of his command, and when Dick heard it hefelt a throb of rage. Boy as he was, he knew that what had been won mustbe held. Johnston had stopped at Murfreesborough, thirty or forty milesaway. His troops had recovered from their panic, caused by the fall ofDonelson. Fresh regiments and brigades were joining him. His army wasrising to forty thousand men, and officers like Colonel Winchester beganto feel apprehensive. 

Now came a period of waiting. The Northern leaders, as happened sooften in this war, were uncertain of their authority, and were atcross-purposes. They seldom had the power of initiative that waspermitted to the Southern generals, and of which they made such gooduse. Dick saw that the impression made by Donelson was fading. The Northwas reaping no harvest, and the South was lifting up its head again. 

While he was in Nashville he received a letter from his mother in replyto one of his that he had written to her just after Donelson. She wasvery thankful that her son had gone safely through the battle, and sincehe must fight in war, which was terrible in any aspect, she was gladthat he had borne himself bravely. She was glad that Colonel Kenton hadescaped capture. Her brother-in-law was always good to her and wasa good man. She had also received a letter from his son, her nephew, written from Richmond, She loved Harry Kenton, too, and sympathized withhim, but she could not see how both sides could prevail. 

Dick read the letter over and over again and there was a warm glow abouthis heart. What a brave woman his mother was! She said nothing about hiscoming back home, or leaving the war. He wrote a long reply, and hetold her only of the lighter and more cheerful events that they hadencountered. He described Warner, Pennington, and the sergeant, and saidthat he had the best comrades in the world. He told, too, of his gallantand high-minded commander, Colonel Arthur Winchester. 

He was sure that the letter would reach her promptly, as it passed allthe way through territory now controlled by the North. The next dayafter sending it he heard with joy that Grant was restored to hiscommand, and two days later Colonel Winchester and his men were orderedto join him at Pittsburg Landing, on the Tennessee River. They heardalso that Buell, with his whole division, was soon to march to the sameplace, and they saw in it an omen of speedy and concentrated action. 

"I imagine, " said Warner, "that we'll soon go down in Mississippihunting Johnston. We must outnumber the Johnny Rebs at least two to one. I'm not a general, though any one can see that I ought to be, and if wewere to follow Johnston's army and crush it the war would soon be endedin the west. "

"You've got a mighty big 'if', " said Dick. "If we march into Mississippiwe get pretty far from our base. We'll have to send a long distancethrough hostile country for fresh supplies and fresh troops, while theSoutherners will be nearer to their own. Besides, it's not so certainthat we can destroy Johnston when we find him. "

"Your talk sounds logical, and that being the case, I'll leave ourfuture movements to General Grant. Anyway, it's a good thing not to haveso much responsibility on your shoulders. "

They came in a few days to the great camp on the Tennessee. Springwas now breaking through the crust of winter. Touches of green wereappearing on the forests and in the fields. Now and then the wonderfulpungent odor of the wilderness came to them and life seemed to havetaken on new zest. They were but boys in years, and the terrible scenesof Donelson could not linger with them long. 

They found Colonel Newcomb and the little detachment of Pennsylvanianswith Grant, and Colonel Winchester, resuming command of his regiment, camped by their side, delighted to be with old friends again. ColonelWinchester had lost a portion of his regiment, but there were excuses. It had happened in a country well known to the enemy and but littleknown to him, and he had been attacked in overwhelming force bythe rough-riding Forrest, who was long to be a terror to the Uniondivisions. But he had achieved the task on which he had been sent, andhe was thanked by his commander. 

Dick, as he went on many errands or walked about in the course of hisleisure hours with his friends, watched with interest the growth of agreat army. There were more men here upon the banks of the Tennesseethan he had seen at Bull Run. They were gathered full forty thousandstrong, and General Buell's army also, he learned, had been put undercommand of General Grant and was advancing from Nashville to join him. 

Dick also observed with extreme interest the ground upon which they wereencamped and the country surrounding it. There was the deep Tennessee, still swollen by spring rains, upon the left bank of which they lay, with the stream protecting one flank. In the river were some of thegunboats which had been of such value to Grant. All about them wasrough, hilly country, almost wholly covered with brushwood and tallforest. There were three deep creeks, given significant names by thepioneers. Lick Creek flowed to the south of them into the Tennessee, and Owl Creek to the north sought the same destination. A third, SnakeCreek, was lined with deep and impassable swamps to its very junctionwith the river. 

Some roads of the usual frontier type ran through this region, and at apoint within the Northern lines stood a little primitive log churchthat they called Shiloh. It was of the kind that the pioneers builteverywhere as they moved from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Shilohbelonged to a little body of Methodists. Dick went into it more thanonce. There was no pastor and no congregation now, but the little churchwas not molested. He sat more than once on an uncompromising woodenbench, and looked out through a window, from which the shutter was gone, at the forest and the army. 

Sitting here in this primitive house of worship, he would feel a certainsadness. It seemed strange that a great army, whose purpose was todestroy other armies, should be encamped around a building erected inthe cause of the Prince of Peace. The mighty and terrible nature of thewar was borne in upon him more fully than ever. 

But optimism was supreme among the soldiers. They had achieved the greatvictory of Donelson in the face of odds that had seemed impossible. Theycould defeat all the Southern forces that lay between them and the Gulf. The generals shared their confidence. They did not fortify their camp. They had not come that far South to fight defensive battles. It wastheir place to attack and that of the men in gray to defend. They hadadvanced in triumph almost to the Mississippi line, and they would soonbe pursuing their disorganized foe into that Gulf State. 

Several new generals came to serve under Grant. Among them was one namedSherman, to whom Dick bore messages several times, and who impressed himwith his dry manner and curt remarks which were yet so full of sense. 

It was Sherman's division, in fact, that was encamped around the littlechurch, and Dick soon learned his opinions. He did not believe that theywould so easily conquer the South. He did not look for any triumphalparade to the Gulf. In the beginning of the war he had brought greatenmity and criticism upon himself by saying that 200, 000 men at leastwould be needed at once to crush the Confederacy in the west alone. Andyet it was to take more than ten times that number four bitter years toachieve the task in both west and east. 

But optimism continued to reign in the Union army. Buell would arrivesoon with his division and then seventy thousand strong they wouldresume their march southward, crushing everything. Meanwhile it waspleasant while they waited. They had an abundance of food. They werewell sheltered from the rains. The cold days were passing, nature wasbursting into its spring bloom, and the crisp fresh winds that blew fromthe west and south were full of life and strength. It was a joy merelyto breathe. 

One rainy day the three boys, who had met by chance, went intothe little church for shelter from a sudden spring rain. From theshutterless window Dick saw Sergeant Whitley scurrying in search of arefuge, and they called to him. He came gladly and took a seat in one ofthe rough wooden pews of the little church of Shiloh. The three boys hadthe greatest respect for the character and judgment of the sergeant, andDick asked him when he thought the army would march. 

"They don't tell these things to sergeants, " said Whitley. 

"But you see and you know a lot about war. "

"Well, you've noticed that the army ain't gettin' ready to march. WhenGeneral Buell gets here we'll have nigh onto seventy thousand men, andseventy thousand men can't lift themselves up by their bootstraps an'leave, all in a mornin'. "

"But we don't have to hurry, " said Pennington. "There's no Southern armywest of the Alleghanies that could stand before our seventy thousand menfor an hour. "

"General Buell ain't here yet. "

"But he's coming. "

"But he ain't here yet, " persisted the sergeant, "an' he can't be herefor several days, 'cause the roads are mighty deep in the spring mud. Don't say any man is here until he is here. An' I tell you that GeneralJohnston, with whom we've got to deal, is a great man. I wasn't withhim when he made that great march through the blizzards an' across theplains to Salt Lake City to make the Mormons behave, but I've servedwith them that was. An' I've never yet found one of them who didn't sayGeneral Johnston was a mighty big man. Soldiers know when the right kindof a man is holdin' the reins an' drivin' 'em. Didn't we all feel thatwe was bein' driv right when General Grant took hold?"

"We all felt it, " said the three in chorus. 

"Of course you did, " said the sergeant, "an' now I've got a kind ofuneasy feelin' over General Johnston. Why don't we hear somethin' fromhim? Why don't we know what he's doin'? We haven't sent out any scoutin'parties. On the plains, no matter how strong we was, we was alwayson the lookout for hostile Indians, while here we know there is a bigConfederate army somewhere within fifty miles of us, but don't take thetrouble to look it up. "

"That's so, " said Warner. "Caution represents less than five per cent ofour effectiveness. But I suppose we can whip the Johnnies anyway. "

"Of course we can, " said Pennington, who was always of a most buoyanttemperament. 

Sergeant Whitley went to the shutterless window, and looked out at theforest and the long array of tents. 

"The rain is about over, " he said. "It was just a passin' shower. Butit looks as if it had already added a fresh shade of green to the leavesand grass. Cur'us how quick a rain can do it in spring, when everythingis just waitin' a chance to grow, and bust into bloom. I've rid on theplains when everything was brown an' looked dead. 'Long come a big rainan' the next day everything was green as far as the eye could reach an'you'd see little flowers bloomin' down under the shelter of the grass. "

"I didn't know you had a poetical streak in you, sergeant, " said Dick, who marked his abrupt change from the discussion of the war to a fardifferent topic. 

"I think some of it is in every man, " replied Sergeant Whitley gravely. "I remember once that when we had finished a long chase after someNorthern Cheyennes through mighty rough and dry country we came to alittle valley, a kind of a pocket in the hills, fed by a fine creek, runnin' out of the mountains on one side, into the mountains on theother. The pocket was mebbe two miles long an' mebbe a mile across, an'it was chock full of green trees an' green grass, an' wild flowers. Weenjoyed its comforts, but do you think that was all? Every man among us, an' there was at least a dozen who couldn't read, admired its beauties, an' begun to talk softer an' more gentle than they did when they was outon the dry plains. An' you feel them things more in war than you do atany other time. "

"I suppose you do, " said Dick. "The spring is coming out now in Kentuckywhere I live, and I'd like to see the new grass rippling before thewind, and the young leaves on the trees rustling softly together. "

"Stop sentimentalizing, " said Warner. "If you don't it won't be a minutebefore Pennington will begin to talk about his Nebraska plains, and howhe'd like to see the buffalo herds ten million strong, rocking the earthas they go galloping by. "

Pennington smiled. 

"I won't see the buffalo herds, " he said, "but look at the wild fowlgoing north. "

They left the window as the rain had ceased, and went outside. All thisregion was still primitive and thinly settled, and now they saw flocksof wild ducks and wild geese winging northward. The next day the heavensthemselves were darkened by an immense flight of wild pigeons. Thecountry cut up by so many rivers, creeks and brooks swarmed with wildfowl, and more than once the soldiers roused up deer from the thickets. 

The second day after the talk of the four in the little church Dick, whowas now regarded as a most efficient and trusty young staff officer, wassent with a dispatch to General Buell requesting him to press forwardwith as much speed as he could to the junction with General Grant. Several other aides were sent by different routes, in order to make surethat at least one would arrive, but Dick, through his former ride withColonel Winchester to Nashville, had the most knowledge of the country, and hence was likely to reach Buell first. 

As the boy rode from the camp and crossed the river into the forest helooked back, and he could not fail to notice to what an extent itwas yet a citizen army, and not one of trained soldiers. The veteransergeant had already called his attention to what he deemed graveomissions. In the three weeks that they had been lying there they hadthrown up no earthworks. Not a spade had touched the earth. Nor wasthere any other defense of any kind. The high forest circled close aboutthem, dense now with foliage and underbrush, hiding even at a distanceof a few hundred yards anything that might lie within. The cavalry inthese three weeks had made one scouting expedition, but it was slightand superficial, resulting in nothing. The generals of divisions postedtheir own pickets separately, leaving numerous wide breaks in the line, and the farmer lads, at the change of guard, invariably fired theirrifles in the air, to signify the joy of living, and because it was goodto hear the sound. 

Now that he was riding away from them, these things impressed Dick morethan when he was among them. Sergeant Whitley's warning and pessimisticwords came back to him with new force, but, as he rode into the depthsof the forest, he shook off all depression. Those words, "Seventythousand strong!" continually recurred to him. Yes, they would beseventy thousand strong when Buell came up, and the boys were right. Certainly there was no Confederate force in the west that could resistseventy thousand troops, splendidly armed, flushed with victory and ledby a man like Grant. 

Seventy thousand strong! Dick's heart beat high at the unuttered words. Why should Grant fortify? It was for the enemy, not for him, to do sucha thing. Nor was it possible that Johnston even behind defenses couldresist the impact of the seventy thousand who had been passing from onevictory to another, and who were now in the very heart of the enemy'scountry. 

His heart continued to beat high and fast as he rode through the greenforest. Its strong, sweet odors gave a fillip to his blood, and hepressed his horse to new speed. He rode without interruption night andday, save a few hours now and then for sleep, and reached the army ofBuell which deep in mud was toiling slowly forward. 

Buell was not as near to Shiloh as Dick had supposed, but his march hadsuffered great hindrances. Halleck, in an office far away in St. Louis, had undertaken to manage the campaign. His orders to Buell and hiscommand to Grant had been delayed. Buell, who had moved to the town ofColumbia, therefore had started late through no fault of his. 

Duck River, which Buell was compelled to cross, was swollen like all theother streams of the region, by the great rains and was forty feetdeep. The railway bridge across it had been wrecked by the retreatingConfederates and he was compelled to wait there two weeks until hisengineers could reconstruct it. 

War plays singular chances. Halleck in St. Louis, secure in his plan ofcampaign, had sent an order after Dick left Shiloh, for Buell to turnto the north, leaving Grant to himself, and occupy a town that he named. Through some chance the order never reached Buell. Had it done so thewhole course of American history might have been changed. Grant himself, after the departure of the earlier messengers, changed his mind andsent messengers to Nelson, who led Buell's vanguard, telling him not tohurry. This army was to come to Pittsburg Landing or Shiloh partly bythe Tennessee, and Grant stated that the vessels for him would not beready until some days later. It was the early stage of the war whengenerals behaved with great independence, and Nelson, a rough, stubbornman, after reading the order marched on faster than ever. It seemedafterward that the very stars were for Grant, when one order was lost, and another disobeyed. 

But Dick was not to know of these things until later. He delivered inperson his dispatch to General Buell, who remembered him and gave him afriendly nod, but who was as chary of speech as ever. He wrote a briefreply to the dispatch and gave it sealed to Dick. 

"The letter I hand you, " he said, "merely notifies General Grant that Ihave received his orders and will hurry forward as much as possible. If on your return journey you should deem yourself in danger of fallinginto the hands of the enemy destroy it at once. "

Dick promised to do so, saluted, and retired. He spent only two hoursin General Buell's camp, securing some fresh provisions to carry in hissaddle bags and allowing his horse a little rest. Then he mountedand took as straight a course as he could for General Grant's camp atPittsburg Landing. 

The boy felt satisfied with himself. He had done his mission quickly andexactly, and he would have a pleasant ride back. On his strong, swifthorse, and with a good knowledge of the road, he could go several timesfaster than Buell's army. He anticipated a pleasant ride. The forestseemed to him to be fairly drenched in spring. Little birds flamingin color darted among the boughs and others more modest in garb pouredforth a full volume of song. Dick, sensitive to sights and sounds, hummed a tune himself. It was the thundering song of the sea that he hadheard Samuel Jarvis sing in the Kentucky Mountains:

 They bore him away when the day had fled, And the storm was rolling high, And they laid him down in his lonely bed By the light of an angry sky. The lightning flashed and the wild sea lashed The shore with its foaming wave, And the thunder passed on the rushing blast, As it howled o'er the rover's grave. 

He pressed on, hour after hour, through the deep woods, meeting no one, but content. At noon his horse suddenly showed signs of great weariness, and Dick, remembering how much he had ridden him over muddy roads, gavehim a long rest. Besides, there was no need to hurry. The Southern armywas at Corinth, in Mississippi, three or four days' journey away, andthere had been no scouts or skirmishers in the woods between. 

After a stop of an hour he remounted and rode on again, but the horsewas still feeling his great strain, and he did not push him beyond awalk. He calculated that nevertheless he would reach headquarters notlong after nightfall, and he went along gaily, still singing to himself. He crossed the river at a point above the army, where the Union troopshad made a ferry, and then turned toward the camp. 

About sunset he reached a hill from which he could look over theforest and see under the horizon faint lights that were made by Grant'scampfires at Pittsburg Landing. It was a welcome sight. He would soon bewith his friends again, and he urged his horse forward a little faster. 

"Halt!" cried a sharp voice from the thicket. 

Dick faced about in amazement, and saw four horsemen in gray riding fromthe bushes. The shock was as great as if he had been struck by a bullet, but he leaned forward on his horse's neck, kicked him violently withhis heels and shouted to him. The horse plunged forward at a gallop. Theboy, remembering General Buell's instructions, slipped the letter fromhis pocket, and in the shelter of the horse's body dropped it to theground, where he knew it would be lost among the bushes and in thetwilight. 

"Halt!" was repeated more loudly and sharply than ever. Then a bulletwhizzed by Dick's ear, and a second pierced the heart of his good horse. He tried to leap clear of the falling animal, and succeeded, but he fellso hard among the bushes that he was stunned for a few moments. When herevived and stood up he saw the four horsemen in gray looking curiouslyat him. 

"'Twould have been cheaper for you to have stopped when we told you todo it, " said one in a whimsical tone. 

Dick noticed that the tone was not unkind--it was not the custom totreat prisoners ill in this great war. He rubbed his left shoulder onwhich he had fallen and which still pained him a little. 

"I didn't stop, " he said, "because I didn't know that you would be ableto hit either me or my horse in the dusk. "

"I s'pose from your way of lookin' at it you was right to take thechance, but you've learned now that we Southern men are tol'able goodsharpshooters. "

"I knew it long ago, but what are you doing here, right in the jaws ofour army? They might close on you any minute with a snap. You ought tobe with your own army at Corinth. "

Dick noticed that the men looked at one another, and there was silencefor a moment or two. 

"Young fellow, " resumed the spokesman, "you was comin' from thedirection of Columbia, an' your hoss, which I am sorry we had to kill, looked as if he was cleaned tuckered out. I judge that you was bearin' amessage from Buell's army to Grant's. "

"You mustn't hold me responsible for your judgment, good or bad. "

"No, I reckon not, but say, young fellow, do you happen to have a chawof terbacker in your clothes?"

"If I had any I'd offer it to you, but I never chew. "

The man sighed. 

"Well, mebbe it's a bad habit, " he said, "but it's powerful grippin'. I'd give a heap for a good twist of old Kentucky. Now we're goin' tosearch you an' it ain't wuth while to resist, 'cause we've got youwhere we want you, as the dog said to the 'coon when he took him by thethroat. We're lookin' for letters an' dispatches, 'cause we're shore youcome from Buell, but if we should run across any terbacker we'll have tohe'p ourselves to it. We ain't no robbers, 'cause in times like these itain't no robbery to take terbacker. "

Dick noticed that while they talked one of the men never ceased to coverhim with a rifle. They were good-humored and kindly, but he knew theywould not relax an inch from their duty. 

"All right, " he said, "go ahead. I'll give you a good legal title toeverything you may find. "

He knew that the letter was lying in the bushes within ten feet of themand he had a strong temptation to look in that direction and see if itwere as securely hidden as he had thought, but he resisted the impulse. 

Two of the men searched him rapidly and dexterously, and much to theirdisappointment found no dispatch. 

"You ain't got any writin' on you, that's shore, " said the spokesman. "I'd expected to find a paper, an' I had a lingerin' hope, too, that wemight find a little terbacker on you 'spite of what you said. "

"You don't think I'd lie about the tobacco, would you?"

"Sonny, it ain't no lyin' in a big war to say you ain't got noterbacker, when them that's achin' for it are standin' by, ready to grabit. If you had a big diamond hid about you, an' a robber was to ask youif you had it, you'd tell him no, of course. "

"I think, " said Dick, "that you must be from Kentucky. You've got ouraccent. "

"I shorely am, an' I'm a longer way from it than I like. I noticed fromthe first that you talked like me, which is powerful flatterin' to you. Ain't you one of my brethren that the evil witches have made take upwith the Yankees?"

"I'm from the same state, " replied Dick, who saw no reason to concealhis identity. "My name is Richard Mason, and I'm an aide on the staff ofColonel Arthur Winchester, who commands a Kentucky regiment in GeneralGrant's army. "

"I've heard of Colonel Winchester. The same that got a part of hisregiment cut up so bad by Forrest. "

"Yes, we did get cut up. I was there, " confessed Dick a littlereluctantly. 

"Don't feel bad about it. It's likely to happen to any of you whenForrest is around. Now, since you've introduced yourself so nice I'llintroduce myself. I'm Sergeant Robertson, in the Orphan Brigade. It's aKentucky brigade, an' it gets its nickname 'cause it's made up of boysso young that they call me gran'pa, though I'm only forty-four. Theseother three are Bridge, Perkins, and Connor, just plain privates. "

The three "just plain privates" grinned. 

"What are you going to do with me?" asked Dick. 

"We're goin' to give you a pleasant little ride. We killed your hoss, for which I 'pologize again, but I've got a good one of my own, andyou'll jump up behind me. "

A sudden spatter of rifle fire came from the direction of the Northernpickets. 

"Them sentinels of yours have funny habits, " said Robertson grinning. "Just bound to hear their guns go off. They're changin' the guard now. "

"How do you know that?" asked Dick. 

"Oh, I know a heap. I'm a terrible wise man, but bein' so wise I don'ttell all I know or how I happen to know it. Hop up, sonny. "

"Don't you think I'll be a lot of trouble to you, " said Dick, "ridingbehind you thirty or forty miles to your camp?"

The four men exchanged glances, and no one answered. The boy felt asudden chill, and his hair prickled at the roots. He did not know whathad caused it, but surely it was a sign of some danger. 

The night deepened steadily as they were talking. The twilight had gonelong since. The last afterglow had faded. The darkness was heavy withwarmth. The thick foliage of spring rustled gently. Dick's sensationthat something unusual was happening did not depart. 

The four men, after looking at one another, looked fixedly at Dick. 

"Sonny, " said Robertson, "you ain't got no call to worry 'bout ourtroubles. As I said, this is a good, strong hoss of mine, an' it willcarry us just as far as we go an' no further. "

It was an enigmatical reply, and Dick saw that it was useless to askthem questions. Robertson mounted, and Dick, without another word, sprang up behind him. Two of the privates rode up close, one on eitherside, and the other kept immediately behind. He happened to glance backand he saw that the man held a drawn pistol on his thigh. He wondered atsuch extreme precautions, and the ominous feeling increased. 

"Now, lads, " said Robertson to his men, "don't make no more noise thanyou can help. There ain't much chance that any Yankee scoutin' partywill be out, but if there should be one we don't want to run into it. An' as for you, Mr. Mason, you're a nice boy. We all can see that, butjust as shore as you let go with a yell or anything like it at any timeor under any circumstances, you'll be dead the next second. "

A sudden fierce note rang in his voice, and Dick, despite all hiscourage, shuddered. He felt as if a nameless terror all at oncethreatened not only him, but others. His lips and mouth were dry. 

Robertson spoke softly to his horse, and then rode slowly forwardthrough the deep forest. The others rode with him, never breaking theircompact formation, and preserving the utmost silence. Dick did not askanother question. Talk and fellowship were over. Everything before himnow was grim and menacing. 

The dense woods and the darkness hid them so securely that they couldnot have been seen twenty yards away, but the men rode on at a surepace, as if they knew the ground well. The silence was deep and intense, save for the footsteps of the horses and now and then a night bird inthe tall trees calling. 

Before they had gone far a man stepped from a thicket and held up arifle. 

"Four men from the Orphan Brigade with a prisoner, " said Robertson. 

"Advance with the prisoner, " said the picket, and the four men rodeforward. Dick saw to both left and right other pickets, all in the grayuniform of the South, and his heart grew cold within him. The hair onhis head prickled again at its roots, and it was a dreadful sensation. What did it mean? Why these Southern pickets within cannon shot of theNorthern lines?

The men rode slowly on. They were in the deep forest, but the youngprisoner began to see many things under the leafy canopy. On his rightthe dim, shadowy forms of hundreds of men lay sleeping on the grass. Onhis left was a massed battery of great guns, eight in number. 

Further and further they went, and there were soldiers and cannoneverywhere, but not a fire. There was no bed of coals, not a singletorch gleamed anywhere. Not all the soldiers were sleeping, but thosewho were awake never spoke. Silence and darkness brooded over a greatarmy in gray. It was as if they marched among forty thousand phantoms, row on row. 

The whole appalling truth burst in an instant upon the boy. The Southernarmy, which they had supposed was at Corinth, lay in the deep woodswithin cannon shot of its foe, and not a soul in all Grant's thousandsknew of its presence there! And Buell was still far away! It seemed toDick that for a little space his heart stopped beating. He foresaw itall, the terrible hammer-stroke at dawn, the rush of the fiery Southupon her unsuspecting foe, and the cutting down of brigades, beforesleep was gone from their eyes. 

Not in vain had the South boasted that Johnston was a great general. Hehad not been daunted by Donelson. While his foe rested on his victoryand took his ease, he was here with a new army, ready to strike theunwary. Dick shivered suddenly, and, with a violent impulse, clutchedthe waist of the man in front of him. It may have been some sort ofphysical telepathy, but Robertson understood. He turned his head andsaid in a whisper:

"You're right. The whole Southern army is here in the woods, an' we'drather lose a brigade tonight than let you escape. "

Dick felt a thrill of the most acute agony. If he could only escape!There must be some way! If he could but find one! His single word wouldsave the lives of thousands and prevent irreparable defeat! Again heclutched the waist of the man in front of him and again the man divined. 

"It ain't no use, " he said, although his tone was gentle, and in a waysympathetic. "After all, it's your own fault. You blundered right in ourway, an' we had to take you for fear you'd see us, an' give the alarm. It was your unlucky chance. You'd give a million dollars if you hadit to slip out of our hands and tell Ulysses Grant that Albert SidneyJohnston with his whole army is layin' in the woods right alongside ofhim, ready to jump on his back at dawn, an' he not knowin' it. "

"I would, " said Dick fervently. 

"An' so would I if I was in your place. Just think, Mr. Mason, that ofall the hundreds of thousands of men in the Northern armies, of all thetwenty or twenty-five million people on the Northern side, there's justone, that one a boy, and that boy you, who knows that Albert SidneyJohnston is here. "

"Held fast as I am, I'm sorry now that I do know it. "

"I can't say that I blame you. I said you'd give a million dollars to beable to tell, but if you're to measure such things with money it wouldbe worth a hundred million an' more, yes, it would be cheap at threeor four hundred millions for the North to know it. But, after all, youcan't measure such things with money. Maybe you think I talk a heap, butI'm stirred some, too. "

They rode on a little farther over the hilly ground, covered with thickforest or dense, tall scrub. But there were troops, troops, everywhere, and now and then the batteries. They were mostly boys, like theirantagonists of the North, and the sleep of most of them was the sleepof exhaustion, after a forced and rapid march over heavy ground fromCorinth. But Dick knew that they would be fresh in the morning when theyrose from the forest, and rushed upon their unwarned foe. 

CHAPTER XIV. THE DARK EVE OF SHILOH

Dick noticed as they went further into the forest how complete wasthe concealment of a great army, possible only in a country wooded soheavily, and in the presence of a careless enemy. The center was likethe front of the Southern force. Not a fire burned, not a torch gleamed. The horses were withdrawn so far that stamp or neigh could not be heardby the Union pickets. 

"We'll stop here, " said Robertson at length. "As you're a Kentuckian, Ithought it would be pleasanter for you to be handed over to Kentuckians. The Orphan Brigade to which I belong is layin' on the ground right infront of us, an' the first regiment is that of Colonel Kenton. I'll handyou over to him, an'--not 'cause I've got anything ag'inst you--I'll bemighty glad to do it, too, 'cause my back is already nigh breakin' withthe responsibility. "

Dick started violently. 

"What's hit you?" asked Robertson. 

"Oh, nothing. You see, I'm nervous. "

"You ain't tellin' the truth. But I don't blame you an' it don't matteranyway. Here we are. Jump down. "

Dick sprang to the ground, and the others followed. While they heldthe reins they stood in a close circle about him. He had about as muchchance of escape as he had of flying. 

Robertson walked forward, saluted some one who stood up in the dark, andsaid a few words in a low tone. 

"Bring him forward, " said a clear voice, which Dick recognized at once. 

The little group of men opened out and Dick, stepping forth, met hisuncle face to face. It was now the time of Colonel George Kenton tostart violently. 

"My God! You, Dick!" he exclaimed. "How did you come here?"

"I didn't come, " replied the boy, who was now feeling more at ease. "Iwas brought here by four scouts of yours, who I must say saw their dutyand did it. "

Colonel Kenton grasped his hand and shook it. He was very fond of thisyoung nephew of his. The mere fact that he was on the other side did notalter his affection. 

"Tell me about it, Dick, " he said. "And you, Sergeant Robertson, you andyour men are to be thanked for your vigilance and activity. You can gooff duty. You are entitled to your rest. "

As they withdrew the sergeant, who passed by Dick and who had not misseda word of the conversation between him and his uncle, said to him:

"At least, young sir, I've returned you to your relatives, an' you're aminor, as I can see. "

"It's so, " said Dick as the sergeant passed on. 

"They have not ill treated you?" said Colonel Kenton. 

"No, they've been as kind as one enemy could be to another. "

"It is strange, most strange, that you and I should meet here at such atime. Nay, Dick, I see in it the hand of Providence. You're to be savedfrom what will happen to your army tomorrow. "

"I'd rather not be saved in this manner. "

"I know it, but it is perhaps the only way. As sure as the stars arein Heaven your army will be destroyed in the morning, an' you'd bedestroyed with it. I'm fond of you, Dick, and so I'd rather you'd be inour rear, a prisoner, while this is happening. "

"General Grant is a hard man to crush. "

"Dick! Dick, lad, you don't know what you're talking about! Look at thething as it stands! We know everything that you're doing. Our spieslook into the very heart of your camp. You think that we are fifty milesaway, but a cannon shot from the center of our camp would reach thecenter of yours. Why, while we are here, ready to spring, this Grant, ofwhom you think so much, is on his way tonight to the little village ofSavannah to confer with Buell. In the dawn when we strike and roll hisbrigades back he will not be here. And that's your great general!"

Dick knew that his uncle was excited. But he had full cause to be. There was everything in the situation to inflame an officer's pride andanticipation. It was not too dark for Dick to see a spark leap from hiseyes, and a sudden flush of red appear in either tanned cheek. But forDick the chill came again, and once more his hair prickled at the roots. The ambush was even more complete than he had supposed, and GeneralGrant would not be there when it was sprung. 

"Dick, " said Colonel Kenton, "I have talked to you as I would not havetalked to anyone else, but even so, I would not have talked to you asI have, were not your escape an impossibility. You are unharmed, but toleave this camp you would have to fly. "

"I admit it, sir. "

"Come with me. There are men higher in rank than I who would wish to seea prisoner taken as you were. "

Dick followed him willingly and without a word. Aware that he was not inthe slightest physical danger he was full of curiosity concerning whathe was about to see. The words, "men higher in rank than I, " whipped hisblood. 

Colonel Kenton led through the darkness to a deep and broad ravine, intowhich they descended. The sides and bottom of this ravine were clothedin bushes, and they grew thick on the edges above. It was much darkerhere, but Dick presently caught ahead of him the flicker of the firstlight that he had seen in the Southern army. 

The boy's heart began to beat fast and hard. All the omens foretold thathe was about to witness something that he could never by any possibilityforget. They came nearer to the flickering light, and he made out seatedfigures around it. They were men wrapped in cavalry cloaks, because thenight air had now grown somewhat chill, and Dick knew instinctivelythat these were the Southern generals preparing for the hammer-stroke atdawn. 

A sentinel, rifle in hand, met them. Colonel Kenton whispered with hima moment, and he went to the group. He returned in a moment andescorted Dick and his uncle forward. Colonel Kenton saluted and Dickinvoluntarily did the same. 

It was a small fire, casting only a faint and flickering light, butDick, his eyes now used to the dusk, saw well the faces of the generals. He knew at once which was Johnston, the chief. He seemed older than therest, sixty at least, but his skin was clear and ruddy, and the firmface and massive jaw showed thought and power. Yet the countenanceappeared gloomy, as if overcast with care. Perhaps it was another omen!

By the side of Johnston sat a small but muscular man, swarthy, and inearly middle years. His face and gestures when he talked showed clearlythat he was of Latin blood. It was Beauregard, the victor of Bull Run, now second in command here, and he made a striking contrast to the sternand motionless Kentuckian who sat beside him and who was his chief. There was no uneasy play of Johnston's hands, no shrugging of theshoulders, no jerking of the head. He sat silent, his features a mask, while he listened to his generals. 

On the other side was Braxton Bragg, brother-in-law of Jefferson Davis, who could never forget Bragg's kinship, and the service that he had donefifteen years before at Buena Vista, when he had broken with his gunsthe last of Santa Anna's squares, deciding the victory. By the side ofhim was Hardee, the famous tactician, taught in the best schools of bothAmerica and Europe. Then there was Polk, who, when a youth, had left thearmy to enter the church and become a bishop, and who was now a soldieragain and a general. Next to the bishop-general sat the man who had beenVice-President of the United States and who, if the Democracy hadheld together would now have been in the chair of Lincoln, John C. Breckinridge, called by his people the Magnificent, commonly accountedthe most splendid looking man in America. 

"Bring the prisoner forward, Colonel Kenton, " said General Johnston, ageneral upon whom the South, with justice, rested great hopes. 

Dick stepped forward at once and he held himself firmly, as he felt theeyes of the six generals bent upon him. He was conscious even at themoment that chance had given him a great opportunity. He was there tosee, while the military genius of the South planned in the shadow of adark ravine a blow which the six intended to be crushing. 

"Where was the prisoner taken?" said Johnston to Colonel Kenton. 

"Sergeant Robertson and three other men of my command seized him as hewas about to enter the Northern lines. He was coming from the directionof Buell, where it is likely that he had gone to take a dispatch. "

"Did you find any answer upon him. "

"My men searched him carefully, sir, but found nothing. "

"He is in the uniform of a staff officer. Have you found to whatregiment in the Union army he belongs?"

"He is on the staff of Colonel Arthur Winchester, who commands one ofthe Kentucky regiments. I have also to tell you, sir, that his name isRichard Mason, and that he is my nephew. "

"Ah, " said General Johnston, "it is one of the misfortunes of civil warthat so many of us fight against our own relatives. For those who livein the border states yours is the common lot. "

But Dick was conscious that the six generals were gazing at him withrenewed interest. 

"Your surmise about his having been to Buell is no doubt correct, " saidBeauregard quickly and nervously. "You left General Buell this morning, did you not, Mr. Mason?"

Dick remained silent. 

"It is also true that Buell's army is worn down by his heavy marchover muddy roads, " continued Beauregard as if he had not noticed Dick'sfailure to reply. 

Dick's teeth were shut firmly, and he compressed his lips. He stoodrigidly erect, gazing now at the flickering flames of the little fire. 

"I suggest that you try him on some other subject than Buell, GeneralBeauregard, " said the bishop-general, a faint twinkle appearing in hiseyes. Johnston sat silent, but his blue eyes missed nothing. 

"It is true also, is it not, " continued Beauregard, "that General Granthas gone or is going tonight to Savannah to meet General Buell, andconfer with him about a speedy advance upon our army at Corinth?"

Dick clenched his teeth harder than ever, and a spasm passed over hisface. He was conscious that six pairs of eyes, keen and intent, ready tonote the slightest change of countenance and to read a meaning into it, were bent upon him. It was only by a supreme effort that he remainedmaster of himself, but after the single spasm his countenance remainedunmoved. 

"You do not choose to answer, " said Bragg, always a stern and ruthlessman, "but we can drag what you know from you. "

"I am a prisoner of war, " replied Dick steadily. "I was taken in fulluniform. I am no spy, and you cannot ill treat me. "

"I do not mean that we would inflict any physical suffering upon you, "said Bragg. "The Confederacy does not, and will never resort to suchmethods. But you are only a boy. We can question you here, until, through very weakness of spirit, you will be glad to tell us all youknow about Buell's or any other Northern force. "

"Try me, and see, " said Dick proudly. 

The blue eye of the silent Johnston flickered for an instant. 

"But it is true, " said Beauregard, resuming his role of cross-examiner, "that your army, considering itself secure, has not fortified againstus? It has dug no trenches, built no earthworks, thrown up no abatis!"

The boy stood silent with folded arms, and Colonel George Kenton, standing on one side, threw his nephew a glance of sympathy, tinged withadmiration. 

"Still you do not answer, " continued Beauregard, and now a strong noteof irony appeared in his tone, "but perhaps it is just as well. Youdo your duty to your own army, and we miss nothing. You cannot tellus anything that we do not know already. Whatever you may know we knowmore. We know tonight the condition of General Grant's army better thanGeneral Grant himself does. We know how General Buell and his army standbetter than General Buell himself does. We know the position of yourbrigades and the missing links between them better than your own brigadecommanders do. "

The eyes of the Louisianian flashed, his swarthy face swelled and hisshoulders twitched. The French blood was strong within him. Just somight some general of Napoleon, some general from the Midi, have shownhis emotion on the eve of battle, an emotion which did not detract fromcourage and resolution. But the Puritan general, Johnston, raised adeprecatory hand. 

"It is enough, General Beauregard, " he said. "The young prisoner willtell us nothing. That is evident. As he sees his duty he does it, andI wish that our young men when they are taken may behave as well. Mr. Mason, you are excused. You remain in the custody of your uncle, but Iwarn you that there is none who will guard better against the remotestpossibility of your escape. "

It was involuntary, but Dick gave his deepest military salute, and saidin a tone of mingled admiration and respect:

"General Johnston, I thank you. "

The commander-in-chief of the Southern army bowed courteously in return, and Dick, following his uncle, left the ravine. 

The six generals returned to their council, and the boy who would notanswer was quickly forgotten. Long they debated the morrow. Severalhave left accounts of what occurred. Johnston, although he had laid theremarkable ambush, and was expecting victory, was grave, even gloomy. But Beauregard, volatile and sanguine, rejoiced. For him the triumph waswon already. After their great achievement in placing their army, unseenand unknown, within cannon shot of the Union force, failure was to himimpossible. 

Breckinridge, like his chief, Johnston, was also grave and did not saymuch. Hardee, as became one of his severe military training, discussedthe details, the placing of the brigades and the time of attack by each. Polk, the bishop-general, and Bragg, also had their part. 

As they talked in low tones they moved the men over their chessboard. Now and then an aide was summoned, and soon departed swiftly and insilence to move a battery or a regiment a little closer to the Unionlines, but always he carried the injunction that no noise be made. Nota sound that could be heard three hundred yards away came from all thatgreat army, lying there in the deep woods and poised for its spring. 

Meanwhile security reigned in the Union camp. The farm lads of the westand northwest had talked much over their fires. They had eaten goodsuppers, and by and by they fell asleep. But many of the officers stillsat by the coals and discussed the march against the Southern army atCorinth, when the men of Buell should join those of Grant. The pickets, although the gaps yet remained between those of the different brigades, walked back and forth and wondered at the gloom and intensity of thewoods in front of them, but did not dream of that which lay in the heartof the darkness. 

The Southern generals in the ravine lingered yet a little longer. Adiagram had been drawn upon a piece of paper. It showed the positionof every Southern brigade, regiment, and battery, and of every Northerndivision, too. It showed every curve of the Tennessee, the winding linesof the three creeks, Owl, Lick, and Snake, and the hills and marshes. 

The last detail of the plan was agreed upon finally, and they made itvery simple, lest their brigades and regiments should lose touch andbecome confused in the great forest. They were to attack continuallyby the right, press the Union army toward the right always, in orderto rush in and separate it from Pittsburg Landing on the Tennessee, and from the fleet and its stores. Then they meant to drive it into themarshes enclosed by the river and Snake Creek and destroy it. 

The six generals rose, leaving the little fire to sputter out. GeneralJohnston was very grave, and so were all the others as they startedtoward their divisions, except Beauregard, who said in sanguine tones:

"Gentlemen, we shall sleep tomorrow night in the enemy's camp. "

Word, in the mysterious ways of war, had slid through the camp thatthe generals were in council, and many soldiers, driven by overwhelmingcuriosity, had crept through the underbrush to watch the figures by thefire in the ravine. They could not hear, they did not seek to hear, butthey were held by a sort of spell. When they saw them separate, everyone moving toward his own headquarters, they knew that there wasnothing to await now but the dawn, and they stole back toward their ownheadquarters. 

Dick had gone with Colonel Kenton to his own regiment, in the very heartof the Orphan Brigade, and on his way his uncle said:

"Dick, you will sleep among my own lads, and I ask you for your own saketo make no attempt to escape tonight. You would certainly be shot. "

"I recognize that fact, sir, and I shall await a better opportunity. "

"What to do with you in the morning I don't know, but we shall probablybe able to take care of you. Meanwhile, Dick, go to sleep if you can. See, our boys are spread here through the woods. If it were day you'dprobably find at least a dozen among them whom you know, and certainly ahundred are of blood kin to you, more or less. "

Dick saw the dim forms stretched in hundreds on the ground, and, thanking his uncle for his kindness, he stretched himself upon anunoccupied bit of turf and closed his eyes. But it was impossible foryoung Richard Mason to sleep. He felt again that terrible thrillof agony, because he, alone, of all the score and more of Northernmillions, knew that the Southern trap was about to fall, and he couldnot tell. 

Never was he further from sleep. His nerves quivered with actualphysical pain. He opened his eyes again and saw the dim forms lyingin row on row as far in the forest as his eye could reach. Then helistened. He might hear the rifle of some picket, more wary or moreenterprising than the others, sounding the alarm. But no such sound cameto his ears. It had turned warmer again, and he heard only the Southernwind, heavy with the odors of grass and flower, sighing through the tallforest. 

An anger against his own surged up in his breast. Why wouldn't theylook? How could they escape seeing? Was it possible for one great armyto remain unknown within cannon shot of another a whole night? It wasincredible, but he had seen it, and he knew it. Fierce and bitter wordsrose to his lips, but he did not utter them. 

Dick lay a long time, with his eyes open, and the night was passing aspeacefully as if there would be no red dawn. Occasionally he heard afaint stir near him, as some restless soldier turned on his side in hissleep, and now and then a muttered word from an officer who passed nearin the darkness. 

Hours never passed more slowly. Colonel Kenton had gone back toward theNorthern lines, and the boy surmised that he would be one of the firstin the attack at dawn. He began to wonder if dawn would ever reallycome. Stars and a fair moon were out, and as nearly as he could judgefrom them it must be about three o'clock in the morning. Yet it seemedto him that he had been lying there at least twelve hours. 

He shut his eyes again, but sleep was as far from him as ever. Afteranother long and almost unendurable period he opened them once more, andit seemed to him that there was a faint tint of gray in the east. He satup, and looking a long time, he was sure of it. The gray was deepeningand broadening, and at its center it showed a tint of silver. The dawnwas at hand, and every nerve in the boy's body thrilled with excitementand apprehension. 

A murmur and a shuffling sound arose all around him. The sleepers wereawake, and they stood up, thousands of them. Cold food was givento them, and they ate it hastily. But they fondled their rifles andmuskets, and turned their faces toward the point where the Northern armylay, and from which no sound came. 

Dick shivered all over. His head burned and his nerves throbbed. Toolate now! He had hoped all through the long night that somethingwould happen to carry a warning to that unsuspecting army. Nothing hadhappened, and in five minutes the attack would begin. 

He stood up at his full height and sought to pierce with his eyes thefoliage in front of him, but the massed ranks of the Southerners nowstood between, and the batteries were wheeling into line. 

A great throb and murmur ran through the forest. Dick looked upon facesbrown with the sun, and eyes gleaming with the fierce passion of victoryand revenge. They were going to avenge Henry and Donelson and all thelong and mortifying retreat from Kentucky. Dick saw them straining andlooking eagerly at their officers for the word to advance. 

As if by a concerted signal the long and mellow peal of many trumpetscame from the front, the officers uttered the shout to charge, the wildand terrible rebel yell swelled from forty thousand throats, and theSouthern army rushed upon its foe. 

The red dawn of Shiloh had come. 

CHAPTER XV. THE RED DAWN OF SHILOH

Dick stood appalled when he heard that terrible shout in the dawn, andthe crash of cannon and rifles rolling down upon the Union lines. It wasalready a shout of triumph and, as he gazed, he saw through the woodsthe red line of flame, sweeping on without a halt. 

The surprise had been complete. Hardee, leading the Southern advance, struck Peabody's Northern brigade and smashed it up instantly. The mendid not have time to seize their rifles. They had no chance to forminto ranks, and the officers themselves, as they shouted commands, were struck down. Men killed or wounded were falling everywhere. Almostbefore they had time to draw a free breath the remnants of the brigadewere driven upon those behind it. 

Hardee also rushed upon Sherman, but there he found a foe of toughmettle. The man who had foreseen the enormous extent of the war, although taken by surprise, too, did not lose his courage or presence ofmind. His men had time to seize their arms, and he formed a hasty lineof battle. He also had the forethought to send word to the general inhis rear to close up the gap between him and the next general in theline. Then he shifted one of his own brigades until there was a ravinein front of it to protect his men, and he hurried a battery to hisflank. 

Never was Napoleon's maxim that men are nothing, a man is everything, more justified, and never did the genius of Sherman shine morebrilliantly than on that morning. It was he, alone, cool of mind andsteady in the face of overwhelming peril, who first faced the Southernrush. He inspired his troops with his own courage, and, though pale offace, they bent forward to meet the red whirlwind that was rushing downupon them. 

Like a blaze running through dry grass the battle extended in almost aninstant along the whole front, and the deep woods were filled with theroar of eighty thousand men in conflict. And Grant, as at Donelson, wasfar away. 

The thunder and blaze of the battle increased swiftly and to a frightfulextent. The Southern generals, eager, alert and full of success, pushedin all their troops. The surprised Northern army was giving away at allpoints, except where Sherman stood. Hardee, continuing his rush, brokethe Northern line asunder, and his brigades, wrapping themselves aroundSherman, strove to destroy him. 

Although he saw his lines crumbling away before him, Sherman neverflinched. The ravine in front of him and rough ground on one sidedefended him to a certain extent. The men fired their rifles as fast asthey could load and reload, and the cannon on their flanks never ceasedto pour shot and shell into the ranks of their opponents. The gunnerswere shot down, but new ones rose at once in their place. The fiercestconflict yet seen on American soil was raging here. North would notyield, South ever rushed anew to the attack, and a vast cloud of mingledflame and smoke enclosed them both. 

Dick had stood as if petrified, staring at the billows of flame, whilethe thunder of great armies in battle stunned his ears. He realizedsuddenly that he was alone. Colonel Kenton had said the night beforethat he did not know what to do with him, but that he would find a wayin the morning. But he had been forgotten, and he knew it was naturalthat he should be. His fate was but a trifle in the mighty event thatwas passing. There was no time for any one in the Southern army tobother about him. 

Then he understood too, that he was free. The whole Orphan Brigadehad passed on into the red heart of the battle, and had left him therealone. Now his mind leaped out of its paralysis. All his senses becamealert. In that vast whirlwind of fire and smoke no one would notice thata single youth was stealing through the forest in an effort to rejoinhis own people. 

Action followed swift upon thought. He curved about in the woods andthen ran rapidly toward the point where the fire seemed thinnest. He didnot check his pace until he had gone at least a mile. Then he paused tosee if he could tell how the battle was going. Its roar seemed louderthan ever in his ears, and in front of him was a vast red line, whichextended an unseen distance through the forest. Now and then the wildand thrilling rebel yell rose above the roar of cannon and the crash ofrifles. 

Dick saw with a sinking of the heart--and yet he had known that it wouldbe so--that the red line of flame had moved deeper into the heart of theNorthern camp. It had passed the Northern outposts and, at many points, it had swept over the Northern center. He feared that there was but ahuddled and confused mass beyond it. 

He saw something lying at his feet. It was a Confederate military cloakwhich some officer had cast off as he rushed to the charge. He picked itup, threw it about his own shoulders, and then tossed away his cap. Ifhe fell in with Confederate troops they would not know him from one oftheir own, and it was no time now to hold cross-examinations. 

He took a wide curve, and, after another mile, came to a hillock, uponwhich he stood a little while, panting. Again he was appalled at thesight he beheld. Bull Run and Donelson were small beside this. Hereeighty thousand men were locked fast in furious conflict. Raw andundisciplined many of these farmer lads of the west and south were, butin battle they showed a courage and tenacity not surpassed by the besttrained troops that ever lived. 

The floating smoke reached Dick where he stood and stung his eyes, anda powerful odor of burned gunpowder assailed his nostrils. Butneither sight nor odors held him back. Instead, they drew him on withoverwhelming force. He must rejoin his own and do his best howeverlittle it counted in the whole. 

It was now well on into the morning of a brilliant and hot Sunday. Hedid not know it, but the combat was raging fiercest then around thelittle church, which should have been sacred. Drawing a deep breathof an air which was shot with fire and smoke, and which was hot tohis lungs, Dick began to run again. Almost before he noticed it he wasrunning by the side of a Southern regiment which had been ordered toveer about and attack some new point in the Northern line. Keeping hispresence of mind he shouted with them as they rushed on, and presentlydropped away from them in the smoke. 

He was conscious now of a new danger. Twigs and bits of bark began torain down upon him, and he heard the unpleasant whistle of bullets overhis head. They were the bullets of his own people, seeking to repel theSouthern charge. A minute later a huge shell burst near him, coveringhim with flying earth. At first he thought he had been hit by fragmentsof the shell, but when he shook himself he found that he was all right. 

He took yet a wider curve and before he was aware of the treacherousground plunged into a swamp bordering one of the creeks. He stood fora few moments in mud and water to his waist, but he knew that he hadpassed from the range of the Union fire. Twigs and bark no longer fellaround him and that most unpleasant whizz of bullets was gone. 

He pulled himself out of the mire and ran along the edge of the creektoward the roar of the battle. He knew now that he had passed around theflank of the Southern army and could approach the flank of his own. Heran fast, and then began to hear bullets again. But now they were comingfrom the Southern army. He threw away the cloak and presently he emergedinto a mass of men, who, under the continual urging of their officers, were making a desperate defense, firing, drawing back, reloading andfiring again. In front, the woods swarmed with the Southern troops whodrove incessantly upon them. 

Dick snatched up a rifle--plenty were lying upon the ground, where theowners had fallen with them--and fired into the attacking ranks. Then hereloaded swiftly, and pressed on toward the Union center. 

"What troops are these?" he asked of an officer who was knotting ahandkerchief about a bleeding wrist. 

"From Illinois. Who are you?"

"I'm Lieutenant Richard Mason of Colonel Arthur Winchester's Kentuckyregiment. I was taken prisoner by the enemy last night, but I escapedthis morning. Do you know where my regiment is?"

"Keep straight on, and you'll strike it or what's left of it, ifanything at all is left. It's a black day. "

Dick scarcely caught his last words, as he dashed on through bullets, shell and solid shot over slain men and horses, over dismantled gunsand gun carriages, and into the very heart of the flame and smoke. The thunder of the battle was at its height now, because he was inthe center of it. The roar of the great guns was continuous, but theunbroken crash of rifles by the scores of thousands was fiercer and moredeadly. 

The officer had pointed toward the Kentucky regiment with his sword, andfollowing the line Dick ran directly into it. The very first face he sawwas that of Colonel Winchester. 

"Dick, my lad, " shouted the Colonel, "where have you come from?"

"From the Southern army. I was taken prisoner last night almost withinsight of our own, but when they charged this morning they forgot me andhere I am. "

Colonel Winchester suddenly seized him by the shoulders and pushedhim down. The regiment was behind a small ridge which afforded someprotection, and all were lying down except the senior officers. 

"Welcome, Dick, to our hot little camp! The chances are about a hundredper cent out of a hundred per cent that this is the hottest place on theearth today!"

The long, thin figure of Warner lay pressed against the ground. Ahandkerchief, stained red, was bound about his head and his face waspale, but indomitable courage gleamed from his eyes. Just beyond him wasPennington, unhurt. 

"Thank God you haven't fallen, and that I've found you!" exclaimed Dick. 

"I don't know whether you're so lucky after all, " said Warner. "TheJohnnies have been mowing us down. They dropped on us so suddenly thismorning that they must have been sleeping in the same bed with us lastnight, and we didn't know it. I hear that we're routed nearly everywhereexcept here and where Sherman stands. Look out! Here they come again!"

They saw tanned faces and fierce eyes through the smoke, and the bulletsswept down on them in showers. Lucky for them that the little ridge wasthere, and that they had made up their minds to stand to the last. Theyreplied with their own deadly fire, yet many fell, despite the shelter, and to both left and right the battle swelled afresh. Dick felt againthat rain of bark and twigs and leaves. Sometimes a tree, cut throughat its base by cannon balls, fell with a crash. Along the whole curvingline the Southern generals ever urged forward their valiant troops. 

Now the courage and skill of Sherman shone supreme. Dick saw him oftenstriding up and down the lines, ordering and begging his men to standfast, although they were looking almost into the eyes of their enemies. 

The conflict became hand to hand, and assailant and assailed reeled toand fro. But Sherman would not give up. The fiercest attacks broke invain on his iron front. McClernand, with whom he had quarreled the daybefore as to who should command the army while Grant was away, came upwith reinforcements, and seeing what the fearless and resolute generalhad done, yielded him the place. 

The last of the charges broke for the time upon Sherman, and hisexhausted regiment uttered a shout of triumph, but on both sides ofhim the Southern troops drove their enemy back and yet further back. Breckinridge, along Lick Creek, was pushing everything before him. Thebishop-general was doing well. Many of the Northern troops had not yetrecovered from their surprise. A general and three whole regiments, struck on every side, were captured. 

It seemed that nothing could deprive the Southern army of victory, absolute and complete. General Johnston had marshalled his troops withsuperb skill, and intending to reap the full advantage of the surprise, he continually pushed them forward upon the shattered Northern lines. He led in person and on horseback the attack upon the Federal center. Around and behind him rode his staff, and the wild rebel yell sweptagain through the forest, when the soldiers saw the stern and loftyfeatures of the chief whom they trusted, leading them on. 

But fate in the very moment of triumph that seemed overwhelming and surewas preparing a terrible blow for the South. A bullet struck Johnston inthe ankle. His boot filled with blood, and the wound continued to bleedfast. But, despite the urging of his surgeon, who rode with him, herefused to dismount and have the wound bound up. How could he dismountat such a time, when the battle was at its height, and the Union armywas being driven into the creeks and swamps! He was wounded again by apiece of shell, and he sank dying from his horse. His officers crowdedaround him, seeking to hide their irreparable loss from the soldiers, the most costly death, with the exception of Stonewall Jackson's, sustained by the Confederacy in the whole war. 

But the troops, borne on by the impetus that success and the spirit ofJohnston had given them, drove harder than ever against the Northernline. They crashed through it in many places, seizing prisoners andcannon. Almost the whole Northern camp was now in their possession, andmany of the Southern lads, hungry from scanty rations, stopped to seizethe plenty that they found there, but enough persisted to give theNorthern army no rest, and press it back nearer and nearer to themarshes. 

The combat redoubled around Sherman. Johnston was gone, but his generalsstill shared his resolution. They turned an immense fire upon the pointwhere stood Sherman and McClernand, now united by imminent peril. Theirranks were searched by shot and shell, and the bullets whizzed amongthem like a continuous swarm of hornets. 

Dick was still unwounded, but so much smoke and vapor had drifted abouthis face that he was compelled at times to rub his eyes that he mightsee. He felt a certain dizziness, too, and he did not know whether theincessant roaring in his ears came wholly from the cannon and rifle fireor partly from the pounding of his blood. 

"I feel that we are shaking, " he shouted in the ears of Warner, who laynext to him. "I'm afraid we're going to give ground. "

"I feel it, too, " Warner shouted back. "We've been here for hours, butwe're shot to pieces. Half of our men must be killed or wounded, but howold Sherman fights!"

The Southern leaders brought up fresh troops and hurled them uponSherman. Again the combat was hand to hand, and to the right and leftthe supports of the indomitable Northern general were being cut away. Those brigades who had proved their mettle at Donelson, and who hadlong stood fast, were attacked so violently that they gave way, and thevictors hurled themselves upon Sherman's flank. 

Dick and his two young comrades perceived through the flame and smokethe new attack. It seemed to Dick that they were being enclosed nowby the whole Southern army, and he felt a sense of suffocation. He wasdizzy from such a long and terrible strain and so much danger, and hewas not really more than half conscious. He was loading and firing hisrifle mechanically, but he always aimed at something in the red stormbefore them, although he never knew whether he hit or missed, and wasglad of it. 

The division of Sherman had been standing there seven hours, sustainingwith undaunted courage the resolute attacks of the Southern army, butthe sixth sense warning Dick that it had begun to shake at last wastrue. The sun had now passed the zenith and was pouring intense andfiery rays upon the field, sometimes piercing the clouds of smoke, andrevealing the faces of the men, black with sweat and burned gunpowder. 

A cry arose for Grant. Why did not their chief show himself upon thefield! Was so great a battle to be fought with him away? And where wasBuell? He had a second great army. He was to join them that day. Whatgood would it be for him to come tomorrow? Many of them laughed inbitter derision. And there was Lew Wallace, too! They had heard that hewas near the field with a strong division. Then why did he not come uponit and face the enemy? Again they laughed that fierce and bitter laughdeep down in their throats. 

The attack upon Sherman never ceased for an instant. Now he was assailednot only from the front, but from both flanks, and some even gaining therear struck blows upon his division there. One brigade upon his left wascompelled to give way, scattered, and lost its guns. The right wing wasalso driven in, and the center yielded slowly, although retaining itscohesion. 

The three lads were on their feet now, and it seemed to them thateverything was lost. They could see the battle in front of them only, but rumors came to them that the army was routed elsewhere. But neitherSherman nor McClernand would yield, save for the slow retreat, yieldingground foot by foot only. And there were many unknown heroes aroundthem. Sergeant Whitley blazed with courage and spirit. 

"We could be worse off than we are!" he shouted to Dick. "GeneralBuell's army may yet come!"

"Maybe we could be worse off than we are, but I don't see how it'spossible!" shouted Dick in return, a certain grim humor possessing himfor the moment. 

"Look! What I said has come true already!" shouted the sergeant. "Hereis shelter that will help us to make a new stand!"

In their slow retreat they reached two low hills, between which a smallravine ran. It was not a strong position, but Sherman used it to theutmost. His men fired from the protecting crests of the hills, and hefilled the ravine with riflemen, who poured a deadly fire upon theirassailants. 

Now Sherman ordered them to stand fast to the last man, because it wasby this road that the division of Lew Wallace must come, if it came atall. But Southern brigades followed them and the battle raged anew, asfierce and deadly as ever. 

Although their army was routed at many points the Northern officersshowed indomitable courage. Driven back in the forest they alwaysstrove to form the lines anew, and now their efforts began to show somesuccess. Their resistance on the right hardened, and on the left theyheld fast to the last chain of hills that covered the wharves and theirstores at the river landing. As they took position here two gunboats inthe river began to send huge shells over their heads at the attackingSouthern columns, maintaining a rapid and heavy fire which shookassailants and strengthened defenders. Again the water had come to thehelp of the North, and at the most critical moment. The whole Northernline was now showing a firmer front, and Grant, himself, was directingthe battle. 

Fortune, which had played a game with Grant at Donelson, played a fargreater one with him on the far greater field of Shiloh. The red dawn ofShiloh, when Johnston was sweeping his army before him, had found him atSavannah far from the field of battle. The hardy and vigorous Nelson hadarrived there in the night with Buell's vanguard, and Grant had orderedit to march at speed the next day to join his own army. But he, himself, did not reach the field of Shiloh until 10 o'clock, when the fiercestbattle yet known on the American continent had been raging for severalhours. 

Grant and his staff, as they rode away from his headquarters, heard thebooming of cannon in the direction of Shiloh. Some of them thought itwas a mere skirmish, but it came continuously, like rolling thunder, andtheir trained ears told them that it rose from a line miles in length. One seeks to penetrate the mind of a commanding general at such a time, and see what his feelings were. Again the battle had been joined, andwas at its height, and he away!

Those trained ears told him also that the rolling thunder of the cannonwas steadily moving toward them. It could mean only that the Northernarmy had been driven from its camp and that the Southern army waspushing its victory to the utmost. In those moments his agony must havebeen intense. His great army not only attacked, but beaten, and he notthere! He and his staff urged their horses forward, seeking to gain fromthem new ounces of speed, but the country was difficult. The hills wererough and there were swamps and mire. And, as they listened, the roarof battle steadily came nearer and nearer. There was no break in theNorthern retreat. The sweat, not of heat but of mental agony, stood upontheir faces. Grant was not the only one who suffered. 

Now they met some of those stragglers who flee from every battlefield, no matter what the nation. Their faces were white with fear and theycried out that the Northern army was destroyed. Officers cursed them andstruck at them with the flats of their swords, but they dodged the blowsand escaped into the bushes. There was no time to pursue them. Grant andhis staff never ceased to ride toward the storm of battle which ragedfar and wide around the little church of Shiloh. 

The stream of fugitives increased, and now they saw swarms of men whostood here and there, not running, but huddled and irresolute. Neverdid Fortune, who brought this, her favorite, from the depths, bring himagain in her play so near to the verge of destruction. When he came uponthe field, the battle seemed wholly lost, and the whole world would havecried that he was to blame. 

But the bulldog in Grant was never of stauncher breed than on thatday. His face turned white, and he grew sick at the sight of the awfulslaughter. A bullet broke the small sword at his side, but he did notflinch. Preserving the stern calm that always marked him on the field hebegan to form his lines anew and strengthen the weaker points. 

Yet the condition of his army would have appalled a weaker will. It hadbeen driven back three miles. His whole camp had been taken. His secondline also had been driven in. Many thousands of men had fallen and otherthousands had been taken. Thirty of his cannon were in the hands of theenemy, and although noon had now come and gone there was no sound tobetoken the coming of the troops led by Wallace or Nelson. Well mightGrant's own stout heart have shrunk appalled from the task before him. 

Wallace was held back by confused orders, pardonable at such a time. The eager Nelson was detained at Savannah by Buell, who thought thatthe sounds of the engagement they heard in the Shiloh woods was a minoraffair, and who wanted Nelson to wait for boats to take him there. 

It seemed sometimes to Dick long afterward, when the whole of the greatShiloh battle became clear, that Fortune was merely playing a game ofchess, with the earth as a board, and the armies as pawns. Grant's armywas ambushed with its general absent. The other armies which were almostat hand were delayed for one reason or another. While as for the South, the genius that had planned the attack and that had carried it forwardwas quenched in death, when victory was at its height. 

But for the present the lad had little time for such thoughts as these. The success of Sherman in holding the new position infused new courageinto him and those around him. The men in gray, wearied with theirimmense exertions, and having suffered frightful losses themselves, abated somewhat the energy and fierceness of their attack. 

The dissolved Northern regiments had time to reform. Grant seized anew position along a line of hills, in front of which ran a deep ravinefilled with brushwood. He and his officers appreciated the advantage andthey massed the troops there as fast as they could. 

Now Fortune, after having brought Grant to the verge of the pit, wasdisposed to throw chances in his way. The hills and the ravine wereone. Another, and most important it was, was the presence of guns ofthe heaviest calibre landed some days ago from the fleet, and left thereuntil their disposition could be determined. A quick-witted colonel, Webster by name, gathered up all the gunners who had lost their ownguns and who had been driven back in the retreat, and manned this greatbattery of siege guns, just as the Southern generals were preparing tobreak down the last stand of the North. 

Meanwhile, a terrible rumor had been spreading in the ranks of theSouthern troops. The word was passed from soldier to soldier that theircommander, Johnston, whom they had believed invincible, had been killed, and they did not trust so much Beauregard, who was left in command, nor those who helped. Their fiery spirit abated somewhat. There was nodecrease of courage, but continuous victory did not seem so easy now. 

Confusion invaded the triumphant army also. Beauregard had divided theleadership on the field among three of his lieutenants. Hardee now urgedon the center, Bragg commanded the right, and Polk, the bishop-general, led the left. It was Bragg's division that was about to charge the greatbattery of siege guns that the alert Webster had manned so quickly. Fiveminutes more and Webster would have been too late. Here again were thefortunes of Grant brought to the very verge of the pit. The Northerngunboats at the mouth of Lick Creek moved forward a little, and theirguns were ready to support the battery. 

The Kentucky regiment was wedged in between the battery and a brigade, and it was gasping for breath. Colonel Winchester, slightly woundedin three places, commanded his men to lie down, and they gladly threwthemselves upon the earth. 

There was a momentary lull in the battle. Wandering winds caught up thebanks of smoke and carried most of them away. Dick, as he rose a little, saw the Southern troops massing in the forest for an attack upon theirnew position. They seemed to be only a few yards away and he clearlyobserved the officers walking along the front of the lines. It flashedupon him that they must hold these hills or Grant's army would perish. Where was Buell? Why did he not come? If the Southerners destroyed oneNorthern army today they would destroy another tomorrow! They wouldbreak the two halves of the Union force in the west into pieces, firstone and then the other. 

"What do you see, Dick?" asked Warner, who was lying almost flat uponhis face. 

"The Confederate army is getting ready to wipe us off the face of theearth! Up with your rifle, George! They'll be upon us in two minutes!"

They heard a sudden shout behind them. It was a glad shout, and well itmight be. Nelson, held back by Buell's orders, had listened long tothe booming of the cannon off in the direction of Shiloh. Nothing couldconvince him that a great battle was not going on, and all through themorning he chafed and raged. And as the sound of the cannon grew louderhe believed that Grant's army was losing. 

Nelson obtained Buell's leave at last to march for Shiloh, but it wasa long road across hills and creeks and through swamps. The cannon sankdeep in the mire, and then the ardent Nelson left them behind. Now heknew there was great need for haste. The flashing and thundering infront of them showed to the youngest soldier in his command that a greatbattle was in progress, and that it was going against the North. Hisdivision at last reached Pittsburg Landing and was carried across theriver in the steamers. One brigade led by Ammen outstripped the rest, and rushed in behind the great battery and to its support, just as theSouthern bugles once more sounded the charge. 

Dick shouted with joy, too, when he saw the new troops. The next momentthe enemy was upon them, charging directly through a frightful dischargefrom the great guns. The riddled regiments, which had fought so long, gave way before the bayonets, but the fresh troops took their places andpoured a terrible fire into the assaulting columns. And the great gunsof the battery hurled a new storm of shell and solid shot. The ranksof the Southern troops, worn by a full day of desperate fighting, werebroken. They had crossed the ravine into the very mouths of the Northernguns, but now they were driven back into the ravine and across it. Cannon and rifles rained missiles upon them there, and they withdrewinto the woods, while for the first time in all that long day a shout oftriumph rose from the Union lines. 

Another lull came in the battle. 

"What are they doing now, Dick?" asked the Vermonter. 

"I can't see very well, but they seem to be gathering in the forest fora fresh attack. Do you know, George, that the sun is almost down?"

"It's certainly time. It's been at least a month since the Johnnies ranout of the forest in the dawn, and jumped on us. "

It was true that the day was almost over, although but few had noticedthe fact. The east was already darkening, and a rosy glow from the westfell across the torn forest. Here and there a dead tree, set on fireby the shells, burned slowly, little flames creeping along trunk andboughs. 

Bragg was preparing to hurl his entire force upon Sherman and thebattery. At that moment Beauregard, now his chief, arrived. But a fewminutes of daylight were left and the swarthy Louisianian looked at thegreat losses in his own ranks. He believed that the army of Buell was sofar away that it could not arrive that night and he withheld the charge. 

The Southern army withdrew a little into the woods, the night rusheddown, and Shiloh's terrible first day was over. 

CHAPTER XVI. THE FIERCE FINISH OF SHILOH

Dick, who had been lying under cover just behind the crest of one ofthe low ridges, suddenly heard the loud beating of his heart. He did notknow, for a moment or two, that the sound came so distinctly because themighty tumult which had been raging around him all day had ceased, asif by a concerted signal. Those blinding flashes of flame no longercame from the forest before him, the shot and shell quit their horriblescreaming, and the air was free from the unpleasant hiss of countlessbullets. 

He stretched himself a little and stood up. The lads all around himwere standing up, and were beginning to talk to each other in thehigh-pitched, shouting voices that they had been compelled to use allday long, not yet realizing to the full that the tumult of the battlehad ceased. The boy felt stiff and sore in every bone and muscle, and, although the cannon and rifles were silent, there was still a hollowroaring in his ears. His eyes were yet dim from the smoke, and his headfelt heavy and dull. He gazed vacantly at the forest in front of him, and wondered dimly why the Southern army was not still there, attacking, as it had attacked for so many hours. 

But the deep woods were silent and empty. Coils and streamers of smokefloated about among the trees, and suddenly a gray squirrel hopped outon a bough and began to chatter wildly. Dick, despite himself, laughed, but the laugh was hysterical. He could appreciate the feelings of thesquirrel, which probably had been imprisoned in a hollow of the tree allday long, listening to this tremendous battle, and squirrels werenot used to such battles. It was a trifle that made him laugh, buteverything was out of proportion now. Life did not go on in the usualway at all. The ordinary occupations were gone, and people spent most oftheir time trying to kill one another. 

He rubbed his hands across his eyes and cleared them of the smoke. Thebattle was certainly over for the day at least, and neither he norhis comrades had sufficient vitality yet to think of the morrow. Thetwilight was fast deepening into night. The last rosy glow of the sunfaded, and thick darkness enveloped the vast forest, in which twentythousand men had fallen, and in which most of them yet lay, the woundedwith the dead. 

There was presently a deep boom from the river, and a shell fired by oneof the gunboats curved far over their heads and dropped into the forest, where the Southern army was encamped. All through the night and atshort but regular intervals the gunboats maintained this warning fire, heartening the Union soldiers, and telling them at every discharge thathowever they might have to fight for the land, the water was alwaystheirs. 

Dick saw Colonel Winchester going among his men, and pulling himselftogether he saluted his chief. 

"Any orders, sir?" he said. 

"No, Dick, my boy, none for the present, " replied the colonel, a littlesadly. "Half of my poor regiment is killed or wounded, and the restare so exhausted that they are barely able to move. But they foughtmagnificently, Dick! They had to, or be crushed! It is only here thatwe have withstood the rush of the Southern army, and it is probable thatwe, too, would have gone had not night come to our help. "

"Then we have been beaten?"

"Yes, Dick, we have been beaten, and beaten badly. It was the surprisethat did it. How on earth we could have let the Southern army creep uponus and strike unaware I don't understand. But Dick, my boy, there willbe another battle tomorrow, and it may tell a different tale. Someprisoners whom we have taken say that Johnston has been killed, andBeauregard is no such leader as he. "

"Will the army of General Buell reach us tonight?"

"Buell, himself, is here. He has been with Grant for some time, and allhis brigades are marching at the double quick. Lew Wallace arrivedless than half an hour ago with seven thousand men fresh and eager forbattle. Dick! Dick, my boy, we'll have forty thousand new troops on thefield at the next dawn, and before God we'll wipe out the disgrace oftoday! Listen to the big guns from the boats as they speak at intervals!Why, I can understand the very words they speak! They are saying to theSouthern army: 'Look out! Look out! We're coming in the morning, andit's we who'll attack now!'"

Dick saw that Colonel Winchester himself was excited. The pupils of hiseyes were dilated, and a red spot glowed in either cheek. Like all theother officers he was stung by the surprise and defeat, and he couldbarely wait for the morning and revenge. 

Colonel Winchester walked away to a council that had been called, andDick turned to Pennington and Warner, who were not hurt, save for slightwounds. Warner had recovered his poise, and was soon as calm and dry asever. 

"Dick, " he said, "we're some distance from where we started thismorning. There's nothing like being shoved along when you don't want togo. The next time they tell me there's nothing in a thicket I expect tosearch it and find a rebel army at least a hundred thousand strong rightin the middle of it. "

"How large do you suppose the Southern army was?" asked Pennington. 

"I had a number of looks at it, " replied Warner, "and I should say fromthe way it acted that it numbered at least three million men. I knowthat at times not less than ten thousand were aiming their rifles at myown poor and unworthy person. What a waste of energy for so many men toshoot at me all at once. I wish the Johnnies would go away and let usalone!"

The last words were high-pitched and excited. His habitual self-controlbroke down for a moment, and the tremendous excitement and nervoustension of the day found vent in his voice. But in a few seconds herecovered himself and looked rather ashamed. 

"Boys, " he said, "I apologize. "

"You needn't, " said Pennington. "There have been times today when I feltbrave as a lion, and lots of other times I was scared most to death. It would have helped me a lot then, if I could have opened my mouth andyelled at the top of my voice. "

Sergeant Daniel Whitley was leaning against a stump, and while he wascalmly lighting a pipe he regarded the three boys with a benevolentgaze. 

"None of you need be ashamed of bein' scared, " he said. "I've been in alot of fights myself, though all of them were mere skirmishes when putalongside of this, an' I've been scared a heap today. I've been scaredfor myself, an' I've been scared for the regiment, an' I've been scaredfor the whole army, an' I've been scared on general principles, but herewe are, alive an' kickin', an' we ought to feel powerful thankful forthat. "

"We are, " said Dick. Then he rubbed his head as if some sudden thoughthad occurred to him. 

"What is it, Dick?" asked Warner. 

"I've realized all at once that I'm tremendously hungry. TheConfederates broke up our breakfast. We never had time to think ofdinner, and now its nothing to eat. "

"Me, too, " said Pennington. "If you were to hit me in the stomach I'dgive back a hollow sound like a drum. Why don't somebody ring the supperbell?"

But fires were soon lighted along their whole front, and provisions werebrought up from the rear and from the steamers. The soldiers, feelingtheir strength returning, ate ravenously. They also talked much ofthe battle. Many of them were yet under the influence of hystericalexcitement. They told extraordinary stories of the things they had seenand done, and they believed all they told were true. They ate fiercely, at first almost like wolves, but after a while they resolved into theirtrue state as amiable young human beings and were ashamed of themselves. 

All the while Buell's army of the Ohio was passing over the river andjoining Grant's army of the Tennessee. Regiment after regiment andbrigade after brigade crossed. The guns that Nelson had been forced toleave behind were also brought up and were taken over with the otherbatteries. While the shattered remnants of the army of the Tennesseewere resting, the fresh army of the Ohio was marching by it in the latehours of the night in order to face the Southern foe in the morning. 

The Southern army itself lay deep in the woods from which it had drivenits enemy. Always the assailant through the day, its losses had beenimmense. Many thousands had fallen, and no new troops were coming totake their place. Continual reinforcements came to the North throughoutthe night, not a soldier came to the South. Beauregard, at dawn, wouldhave to face twice his numbers, at least half of whom were fresh troops. 

Another conference was held by the Southern generals in the forest, but now the central figure, the great Johnston, was gone. The others, however, summoned their courage anew, and passed the whole nightarranging their forces, cheering the men, and preparing for the morn. Their scouts and skirmishers kept watch on the Northern camp, and theSoutherners believed that while they had whipped only one army the daybefore, they could whip two on the morrow. 

Dick and his friends meanwhile were lying on the earth, resting, but notable to sleep. The nerves, drawn so tightly by the day's work, were notyet relaxed wholly. A deep apathy seized them all. Dick, from a highpoint on which he lay, saw the dark surface of the Tennessee, and thelights on the puffing steamers as they crossed, bearing the Army of theOhio. His mind did not work actively now, but he felt that they weresaved. The deep river, although it was on their flank, seemed to flow asa barrier against the foe, and it was, in fact, a barrier more and more, as without its command the second Union army could never have come tothe relief of the first. 

Dick, after a while, saw Colonel Winchester, and other officers nearhim. They were talking of their losses. They gave the names of manygenerals and colonels who had been killed. Presently they moved away, and he fell into an uneasy sleep, or rather doze, from which he wasawakened after a while by a heavy rumbling sound of a distant cannonade. 

The boy sprang up, wondering why any one should wish to renew the battlein the middle of the night, and then he saw that it was no battle. Thesound was thunder rolling heavily on the southern horizon, and the nighthad become very dark. Vivid flashes of lightning cut the sky, and astrong wind rushed among the trees. Heavy drops of water struck him inthe face and then the rain swept down. 

Dick did not seek protection from the storm, nor did any of those nearhim. The cool drops were grateful to their faces after the heat andstrife of the day. Their pulses became stronger, and the blood flowedin a quickened torrent through their veins. They let it pour upon them, merely seeking to keep their ammunition dry. 

Ten thousand wounded were yet lying untouched in the forest, but therain was grateful to them, too. When they could they turned theirfevered faces up to it that it might beat upon them and bring gratefulcoolness. 

Deep in the night a council like that of the Southern generals was heldin the Northern camp, also. Grant, his face an expressionless mask, presided, and said but little. Buell, Sherman, McClernand, Nelson, Wallace and others, were there, and Buell and Sherman, like their chief, spoke little. The three men upon whom most rested were very taciturnthat night, but it is likely that extraordinary thoughts were passing inthe minds of every one of the three. 

Grant, after a day in which any one of a dozen chances would havewrecked him, must have concluded that in very deed and truth he was thefavorite child of Fortune. When one is saved again and again from thevery verge he begins to believe that failure is impossible, and in thatvery belief lies the greatest guard against failure. 

It is said of Grant that in the night after his great defeat around thechurch of Shiloh, he was still confident, that he told his generalsthey would certainly win on the morrow, and he reminded them that if theUnion army had suffered terribly, the Southern army must have sufferedalmost equally so, and would face them at dawn with numbers far lessthan their own. He had not displayed the greatest skill, but he hadshown the greatest moral courage, and now on the night between battlesit was that quality that was needed most. 

Dick, not having slept any the night before, and having passed through aday of fierce battle, was overcome after midnight, and sank into a sleepthat was mere lethargy. He awoke once before dawn and remembered, butvaguely, all that had happened. Yet he was conscious that there was muchmovement in the forest. He heard the tread of many feet, the sound ofcommands, the neigh of horses and the rumbling of cannon wheels. TheArmy of the Ohio was passing to the exposed flank of the Army of theTennessee and at dawn it would all be in line. He also caught flittingglimpses of the Tennessee, and of the steamers loaded with troops stillcrossing, and he heard the boom of the heavy cannon on the gunboatswhich still, at regular and short intervals, sent huge shells curvinginto the forest toward the camp of the Southern army. He also saw nearhim Warner and Pennington sound asleep on the ground, and then he sankback into his own lethargic slumber. 

He was awakened by the call of a trumpet, and, as he rose, he saw thewhole regiment or rather, what was left of it, rising with him. Itwas not yet dawn, and a light rain was falling, but smoldering firesdisclosed the ground for some distance, and also the river on which thegunboats and transports were now gathered in a fleet. 

Colonel Winchester beckoned to him. 

"All right this morning, Dick?" he said. 

"Yes, sir; I'm ready for my duty. "

"And you, too, Warner and Pennington?"

"We are, sir, " they replied together. 

"Then keep close beside me. I don't know when I may want you for amessage. Daybreak will be here in a half hour. The entire Army of theOhio, led by General Buell in person will be in position then or veryshortly afterward, and a new, and, we hope, a very different battle willbegin. "

Food and coffee were served to the men, and while the rain was stillfalling they formed in line and awaited the dawn. The desire to retrievetheir fortunes was as strong among the farmer lads as it was among theofficers who took care to spread among them the statement that Buell'sarmy alone was as numerous as the Southern force, and probably morenumerous since their enemy must have sustained terrible losses. Thusthey stood patiently, while the rain thinned and the sun at last showeda red edge through floating clouds. 

They waited yet a little while longer, and then the boom of a heavy gunin the forest told them that the enemy was advancing to begin the battleafresh. Again it was the Southern army that attacked, although it wasno surprise now. Yet Beauregard and his generals were still sanguineof completing the victory. Their scouts and skirmishers had failed todiscover that the entire army of Buell also was now in front of them. 

Bragg was gathering his division on the left to hurl it likea thunderbolt upon Grant's shattered brigades. Hardee and thebishop-general were in the center, and Breckinridge led the right. Butas they moved forward to attack the Union troops came out to meet them. Nelson had occupied the high ground between Lick and Owl Creeks, and hisand the Southern troops met in a fierce clash shortly after dawn. 

Beauregard, drawn by the firing at that point, and noticing the courageand tenacity with which the Northern troops held their ground, sendingin volley after volley, divined at once that these were not the beatentroops of the day before, but new men. This swarthy general, volatileand dramatic, nevertheless had great penetration. He understood on theinstant a fact that his soldiers did not comprehend until later. He knewthat the whole army of Buell was now before him. 

For the moment it was Beauregard and Buell who were the protagonists, instead of Grant and Johnston as on the day before. The Southern leadergathered all his forces and hurled them upon Nelson. Weary though theSouthern soldiers were, their attack was made with utmost fire andvigor. A long and furious combat ensued. A Southern division underCheatham rushed to the help of their fellows. Buell's forces were drivenin again and again, and only his heavy batteries enabled him to regainhis lost ground. 

Buell led splendid troops that he had trained long and rigidly, and theyhad not been in the conflict the day before. Fresh and with unbrokenranks, not a man wounded or missing, they had entered the battle andboth Grant and Buell, as well as their division commanders, expected aneasy victory where the Army of the Ohio stood. 

Buell, to his amazement, saw himself reduced to the defensive. He andGrant had reckoned that the decimated brigades of the South could notstand at all before him, but just as on the first day they came on withthe fierce rebel yell, hurling themselves upon superior numbers, takingthe cannon of their enemy, losing them, and retaking them and losingthem again, but never yielding. 

The great conflict increased in violence. Buell, a man of iron courage, saw that his soldiers must fight to the uttermost, not for victory only, but even to ward off defeat. The dawn was now far advanced. The rain hadceased, and the sun again shot down sheaves of fiery rays upon a vastlow cloud of fire and smoke in which thousands of men met in desperatecombat. 

Nine o'clock came. It had been expected by Grant that Buell long beforethat time would have swept everything before him. But for three hoursBuell had been fighting to keep himself from being swept away. TheSouthern troops seemed animated by that extraordinary battle fever andabsolute contempt of death which distinguished them so often during thiswar. Buell's army was driven in on both flanks, and only the centerheld fast. It began to seem possible that the South, despite her reducedranks might yet defeat both Northern armies. Another battery dashed upto the relief of the men in blue. It was charged at once by the men ingray so fiercely that the gunners were glad to escape with theirguns, and once more the wild rebel yell of triumph swelled through thesouthern forest. 

Dick, standing with his comrades on one of the ridges that they haddefended so well, listened to the roar of conflict on the wing, everincreasing in volume, and watched the vast clouds of smoke gatheringover the forest. He could see from where he stood the flash of riflefire and the blaze of cannon, and both eye and ear told him that thebattle was not moving back upon the South. 

"It seems that we do not make headway, sir, " he said to ColonelWinchester, who also stood by him, looking and listening. 

"Not that I can perceive, " replied the colonel, "and yet with the rushof forty thousand fresh troops of ours upon the field I deemed victoryquick and easy. How the battle grows! How the South fights!"

Colonel Winchester walked away presently and joined Sherman, who waseagerly watching the mighty conflict, into which he knew that his ownworn and shattered troops must sooner or later be drawn. He walked upand down in front of his lines, saying little but seeing everything. Histall form was seen by all his men. He, too, must have felt a singularthrill at that moment. He must have known that his star was rising. He, more than any other, with his valor, penetrating mind and decisionhad saved the Northern army from complete destruction the first day atShiloh. He had not been able to avert defeat, but he had prevented utterruin. His division alone had held together in the face of the Southernattack until night came. 

Sherman must have recalled, too, how his statement that the North wouldneed 200, 000 troops in the west alone had been sneered at, and he hadbeen called mad. But he neither boasted nor predicted, continuing towatch intently the swelling battle. 

"I had enough fighting yesterday to last me a hundred years, " saidWarner to Dick, "but it seems that I'm to have more today. If theJohnnies had any regard for the rules of war they'd have retreated longago. "

"We'll win yet, " said Dick hopefully, "but I don't think we can achieveany big victory. Look, there's General Grant himself. "

Grant was passing along his whole line. While leaving the main battleto Buell he retained general command and watched everything. He, too, observed the failure of Buell's army to drive the enemy before them, and he must have felt a sinking of the heart, but he did not show it. Instead he spoke only of victory, when he made any comment at all, andsent the members of his staff to make new arrangements. He must bringinto action every gun and man he had or he would yet lose. 

It was now 10 o'clock and the new battle had lasted with the utmost furyand desperation for four hours. Dick, after General Grant rode on, feltas if a sudden thrill had run through the whole army. He saw men risingfrom the earth and tightening their belts. He saw gunners gatheringaround their guns and making ready with the ammunition. He knew theremains of Grant's army were about to march upon the enemy, helping theArmy of the Ohio to achieve the task that had proved so great. 

Sherman, McClernand and other generals now passed among their troops, cheering them, telling them that the time had come to win back what theyhad lost the day before, and that victory was sure. They called uponthem for another great effort, and a shout rolled along the line ofwilling soldiers. 

Sherman's whole division now raised itself up and rushed at the enemy, Dick and his comrades in the front of their own regiment. The wholeNorthern line was now engaged. Grant, true to his resolution, had hurledevery man and every gun upon his foe. 

The Southern generals felt the immense weight of the numbers that werenow driving down upon them. Their decimated ranks could not withstandthe charge of two armies. In the center where Buell's men, having stoodfast from the first, were now advancing, they were compelled to giveway and lost several guns. On the wings the heavy Northern brigades wereadvancing also, and the whole Southern line was pushed back. So muchinferior was the South in numbers that her enemy began to overlap her onthe flanks also. 

A tremendous shout of exultation swept through the Northern ranks, asthey felt themselves advancing. The promises of their generals werecoming true, and there is nothing sweeter than victory after defeat. Fortune, after frowning upon her so long, was now smiling upon theNorth. The exultant cheer swept through the ranks again, and back camethe defiant rebel yell. 

A young soldier often feels what is happening with as true instinct as ageneral. Dick now knew that the North would recover the field, and thatthe South, cut down fearfully, though having performed prodigies ofvalor, must fight to save herself. He felt that the resistance in frontof them was no longer invincible. He saw in the flash of the firing thatthe Southern ranks were thin, very thin, and he knew that there was nobreak in their own advance. 

Now the sanguine Northern generals planned the entire destruction of theSouthern army. There was only one road by which Beauregard could retreatto Corinth. A whole Northern division rushed in to block the way. Sherman, in his advance, came again to the ground around the littleMethodist chapel of Shiloh which he had defended so well the day before, and crowded his whole force upon the Southern line at that point. Oncemore the primitive church in the woods looked down upon one of the mostsanguinary conflicts of the whole war. If Sherman could break throughthe Southern line here Beauregard's whole army would be lost. 

But the Southern soldiers were capable of another and a mighty effort. Their generals saw the danger and acted with their usual promptness anddecision. They gathered together their shattered brigades and hurledthem like a thunderbolt upon the Union left and center. The shock wasterrific. Sherman, with all his staunchness and the valor of his men, was compelled to give way. McClernand, too, reeled back, others weredriven in also. Whole brigades and regiments were cut to pieces orthrown in confusion. The Southerners cut a wide gap in the Northernarmy, through which they rushed in triumph, holding the Corinth roadagainst every attack and making their rear secure. 

Sherman's division, after its momentary repulse, gathered itself anew, and, although knowing now that the Southern army could not be entrapped, drove again with all its might upon the positions around the church. They passed over the dead of the day before, and gathered increasingvigor, as they saw that the enemy was slowly drawing back. 

Grant reformed his line, which had been shattered by the last fiery andsuccessful attack of the South. Along the whole long line the trumpetssang the charge, and brigades and batteries advanced. 

But the end of Shiloh was at hand. Despite the prodigies of valorperformed by their men, the Southern generals saw that they could notlonger hold the field. The junction of Grant and Buell, after all, had proved too much for them. The bugles sounded the retreat, andreluctantly they gave up the ground which they had won with so muchcourage and daring. They retreated rather as victors than defeated men, presenting a bristling front to the enemy until their regiments werelost in the forest, and beating off every attempt of skirmishers orcavalry to molest them. 

It was the middle of the afternoon when the last shot was fired, and theSouthern army at its leisure resumed its march toward Corinth, protectedon the flanks by its cavalry, and carrying with it the assurance thatalthough not victorious over two armies it had been victorious over one, and had struck the most stunning blow yet known in American history. 

When the last of the Southern regiments disappeared in the deep woods, Dick and many of those around him sank exhausted upon the ground. Evenhad they been ordered to follow they would have been incapable of it. Complete nervous collapse followed such days and nights as those throughwhich they had passed. 

Nor did Grant and Buell wish to pursue. Their armies had been tooterribly shaken to make another attack. Nearly fifteen thousand oftheir men had fallen and the dead and wounded still lay scattered widelythrough the woods. The South had lost almost as many. Nearly a third ofher army had been killed or wounded in the battle, and yet they retiredin good order, showing the desperate valor of these sons of hers. 

The double army which had saved itself, but which had yet been unable todestroy its enemy, slept that night in the recovered camp. The generalsdiscussed in subdued tones their narrow escape, and the soldiers, whonow understood very well what had happened, talked of it in the sameway. 

"We knew that it was going to be a big war, " said Dick, "but it's goingto be far bigger than we thought. "

"And we won't make that easy parade down to the Gulf, " said Warner. "I'mthinking that a lot of lions are in the path. "

"But we'll win!" said Dick. "In the end we'll surely win!"

Then after dreaming a little with his eyes open he fell asleep, gathering new strength for mighty campaigns yet to come. 

Appendix: Transcription notes:

This etext was transcribed from a volume of the 22nd printing

The following modifications were applied while transcribing the printedbook to e-text:

 chapter 2 - Page 40, para 6, changed comma to period

 chapter 3 - Page 59, para 3, fixed mis-printed quotation mark

 chapter 4 - Page 73, para 6, fixed typo ("thy") - Page 74, para 1, add missing end-quote

 chapter 5 - Page 95, para 3, add missing end-quote - Page 102, para 5, add missing comma

 chapter 6 - Page 118, para 3, fixed typo ("lenghening") - Page 119, para 6, fixed typo ("untils") - Page 120, para 3, fixed typo ("alrming")

 chapter 7 - Page 139, para 4, add missing begin-quote

 chapter 9 - Page 184, para 2, add missing begin-quote

 chapter 10 - Page 197, para 7, fixed typo ("Your're")

 chapter 15 - Page 299, para 2, fixed typo ("genuis")

 chapter 16 - Page 331, para 2, fixed typo (changed "not" to "nor")

 Limitations imposed by converting to plain ASCII:

 - Throughout the printed book, in any quasi-mathematical passages which use the variables "x" and "y", those variable names are presented in italics. Italics are not available in plain ASCII. 

I did not modify:

 - The printed book sometimes uses the spelling "despatch", other times "dispatch". Also, both "intrenchments" and "entrenchments". 

 - Chapter 12, page 245, "grewsome"

 - There are a number of instances where the use of the comma in the printed book seems to me inappropriate, mainly in terms of commas inserted where I would not insert them, and also sometimes commas lacking where I would provide them. However, I have adhered to the punctuation as printed (except for obvious printing errors, which are noted above). 

 For example:

 The hills rolled far away southward, and under the horizon's rim. 

 The three bade farewell to the young operator, then to almost all of Hubbard and proceeded in a trot for the pass. 

 One day Major Hertford sent Dick, Warner, and Sergeant Whitley, ahead to scout. 

 The two young aides carried away by success and the fire of battle, waved their swords continually and rushed at the enemy's lines. 

 Duck River, which Buell was compelled to cross, was swollen like all the other streams of the region, by the great rains and was forty feet deep. 

 - The author sometimes uses a technique whereby a paragraph introducing a quotation ends with a colon, with the quotation following as the next paragraph.