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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Guns of Shiloh, by Joseph A. Altsheler
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Guns of Shiloh
+
+Author: Joseph A. Altsheler
+
+Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5207]
+Posting Date: June 5, 2009
+Last Updated: March 10, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUNS OF SHILOH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ken Reeder
+
+
+
+
+
+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 and
+its beginnings are seen through the eyes of Harry Kenton, who is on the
+Southern side. In “The Guns of Shiloh” the mighty struggle takes its
+color from the view of Dick Mason, who fights for the North and who is
+with 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 CARDEN, 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 E. 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 E. 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 with
+his comrades toward a ford of Bull Run. The first great battle of the
+Civil War had been fought and lost. Lost, after it had been won! Young
+as he was Dick knew that fortune had been with the North until the very
+closing hour. He did not yet know how it had been done. He did not know
+how the Northern charges had broken in vain on the ranks of Stonewall
+Jackson's men. He did not know how the fresh Southern troops from the
+Valley of Virginia had hurled themselves so fiercely on the Union flank.
+But he did know that his army had been defeated and was retreating on
+the capital.
+
+Cannon still thundered to right and left, and now and then showers of
+bursting shell sprayed over the heads of the tired and gloomy soldiers.
+Dick, thoughtful and scholarly, was in the depths of a bitterness and
+despair reached by few of those around him. The Union, the Republic, had
+appealed to him as the most glorious of experiments. He could not bear
+to see it broken up for any cause whatever. It had been founded with
+too much blood and suffering and labor to be dissolved in a day on a
+Virginia battlefield.
+
+But the army that had almost grasped victory was retreating, and the
+camp 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 that
+the rebels fifty thousand strong with a hundred guns were hot upon their
+heels. 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. Dick
+had noticed this man, a sergeant named Whitley, who had shown singular
+courage and coolness throughout the battle, and he crowded closer to him
+for companionship. The man observed the action and looked at him with
+blue 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 there
+are others that won't be. Most of the men were raw, but they did some
+mighty good fightin', while the regulars an' the cavalry are coverin'
+the retreat. Beauregard's army is not goin' to sweep us off the face of
+the earth.”
+
+His words brought cheer to Dick, but it lasted only a moment. He was to
+see many dark days, but this perhaps was the darkest of his life. His
+heart beat painfully and his face was a brown mask of mingled dust,
+sweat, and burned gunpowder. The thunder of the Southern cannon behind
+them filled him with humiliation. Every bone in him ached after such
+fierce exertion, and his eyes were dim with the flare of cannon and
+rifles and the rolling clouds of dust. He was scarcely conscious that
+the thick and powerful sergeant had moved up by his side and had put a
+helping hand under his arm.
+
+“Here we are at the ford!” cried Whitley. “Into it, my lad! Ah, how good
+the water feels!”
+
+Dick, despite those warning guns behind him, would have remained a while
+in Bull Run, luxuriating in the stream, but the crowd of his comrades
+was pressing hard upon him, and he only had time to thrust his face into
+the water and to pour it over his neck, arms, and shoulders. But he was
+refreshed greatly. Some of the heat went out of his body, and his eyes
+and head ached less.
+
+The retreat continued across the rolling hills. Dick saw everywhere arms
+and supplies thrown away by the fringe of a beaten army, the men in the
+rear who saw and who spread the reports of panic and terror. But the
+regiments were forming again into a cohesive force, and behind them
+the regulars and cavalry in firm array still challenged pursuit. Heavy
+firing was heard again under the horizon and word came that the Southern
+cavalry had captured guns and wagons, but the main division maintained
+its slow retreat toward Washington.
+
+Now the cool shadows were coming. The sun, which had shown as red as
+blood over the field that day, was sinking behind the hills. Its fiery
+rays ceased to burn the faces of the men. A soft healing breeze stirred
+the leaves and grass. The river of Bull Run and the field of Manassas
+were gone from sight, and the echo of the last cannon shot died solemnly
+on the Southern horizon. An hour later the brigade stopped in the wood,
+and the exhausted men threw themselves upon the ground. They were so
+tired that their bodies were in pain as if pricked with needles. The
+chagrin and disgrace of defeat were forgotten for the time in the
+overpowering desire for rest.
+
+Dick had enlisted as a common soldier. There was no burden of
+maintaining order upon him, and he threw himself upon the ground by the
+side of his new friend, Sergeant Whitley. His breath came at first in
+gasps, but presently he felt better and sat up.
+
+It was now full night, thrice blessed to them all, with the heat and
+dust gone and no enemy near. The young recruits had recovered their
+courage. The terrible scenes of the battle were hid from their eyes, and
+the cannon no longer menaced on the horizon. The sweet, soothing wind
+blew gently over the hills among which they lay, and the leaves rustled
+peacefully.
+
+Fires were lighted, wagons with supplies arrived, and the men began
+to cook food, while the surgeons moved here and there, binding up the
+wounds of the hurt. The pleasant odors of coffee and frying meat arose.
+Sergeant Whitley stood up and by the moonlight and the fires scanned the
+country about them with discerning eye. Dick looked at him with renewed
+interest. He was a man of middle years, but with all the strength and
+elasticity of youth. Despite his thick coat of tan he was naturally
+fair, and Dick noticed that his hands were the largest that he had ever
+seen on any human being. They seemed to the boy to have in them the
+power to strangle a bear. But the man was singularly mild and gentle in
+his manner.
+
+“We're about half way to Washington, I judge,” he said, “an' I expect a
+lot of our camp followers and grass-green men are all the way there
+by now, tellin' Abe Lincoln an' everybody else that a hundred thousand
+rebels fell hard upon us on the plain of Manassas.”
+
+He laughed deep down in his throat and Dick again drew courage and
+cheerfulness from one who had such a great store of both.
+
+“How did it happen? Our defeat, I mean,” asked Dick. “I thought almost
+to the very last moment that we had the victory won.”
+
+“Their reserves came an' ours didn't. But the boys did well. Lots worse
+than this will happen to us, an' we'll live to overcome it. I've been
+through a heap of hardships in my life, Dick, but I always remember that
+somebody else has been through worse. Let's go down the hill. The boys
+have found a branch an' are washin' up.”
+
+By “branch” he meant a brook, and Dick went with him gladly. They
+found a fine, clear stream, several feet broad and a foot deep, flowing
+swiftly between the slopes, and probably emptying miles further on into
+Bull Run. Already it was lined by hundreds of soldiers, mostly boys,
+who were bathing freely in its cool waters. Dick and the sergeant joined
+them and with the sparkle of the current fresh life and vigor flowed
+into 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 socks
+and put their bruised and aching feet in the stream.
+
+“It seems to me, sergeant, that this is pretty near to Heaven,” said
+Dick 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 step
+nearer to Heaven, when we get our share of that beef an' coffee, which
+I 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 lumberman
+in Wisconsin I thought nothin' could beat that, but I admit now that a
+big 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. If
+I do say it myself, there wasn't a man in all Wisconsin, or Michigan
+either, who could swing an axe harder or longer than I could. I guess
+you've noticed these hands of mine.”
+
+He held them up, and they impressed Dick more than ever. They were great
+masses 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 mine
+were wonders when I was a boy, an' when you add to that years an' years
+with the axe, an' with liftin' an' rollin' big logs I've got what I
+reckon is the strongest pair of hands in the United States. I can pull a
+horseshoe apart any time. Mighty useful they are, too, as I'm likely to
+show you often.”
+
+The chance came very soon. A frightened horse, probably with the memory
+of the battle still lodged somewhere in his animal brain, broke his
+tether and came charging among the troops. Whitley made one leap, seized
+him 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 I
+learned 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 three
+years on horseback in the regular army, fightin' the Indians. Good
+fighters they are, too. Mighty hard to put your hand on 'em. Now they're
+there an' now they ain't. Now you see 'em before you, an' then they're
+behind you aimin' a tomahawk at your head. They taught us a big lot
+that I guess we can use in this war. Come on, Dick, I guess them banquet
+halls are spread, an' I know we're ready.”
+
+Not much order was preserved in the beaten brigade, which had become
+separated from the rest of the retreating army, but the spirits of all
+were rising and that, so Sergeant Whitley told Dick, was better just now
+than technical discipline. The Northern army had gone to Bull Run with
+ample supplies, and now they lacked for nothing. They ate long and well,
+and drank great quantities of coffee. Then they put out the fires and
+resumed the march toward Washington.
+
+They stopped again an hour or two after midnight and slept until
+morning. Dick lay on the bare ground under the boughs of a great oak
+tree. It was a quarter of an hour before sleep came, because his nervous
+system had received a tremendous wrench that day. He closed his eyes
+and the battle passed again before them. He remembered, too, a lightning
+glimpse of a face, that of his cousin, Harry Kenton, seen but an instant
+and 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 now
+watching over him like an elder brother. The sun already rode high and
+there was a great stir and movement, as the brigade was forming for its
+continued retreat on the capital. The boy's body was at first stiff
+and sore, but the elasticity of youth returned fast, and after a brief
+breakfast he was fully restored.
+
+Another hot day had dawned, but Dick reflected grimly that however hot
+it might be it could not be as hot as the day before had been. Scouts in
+the night had brought back reports that the Southern troops were on the
+northern side of Bull Run, but not in great force, and a second battle
+was no longer feared. The flight could be continued without interruption
+over the hot Virginia fields.
+
+Much of Dick's depression returned as they advanced under the blazing
+sun, but Whitley, who seemed insensible to either fatigue or gloom, soon
+cheered him up again.
+
+“They talk about the Southerners comin' on an' takin' Washington,” he
+said, “but don't you believe it. They haven't got the forces, an' while
+they won the victory I guess they're about as tired as we are. Our boys
+talk about a hundred thousand rebels jumpin' on 'em, an' some felt as if
+they was a million, but they weren't any more than we was, maybe not
+as many, an' when they are all stove up themselves how can they attack
+Washington in its fortifications! Don't be so troubled, boy. The Union
+ain't smashed up yet. Just recollect whenever it's dark that light's
+bound 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 half
+dozen feet away from them. The boy, who seemed to be about eighteen
+years of age, turned to them a face which was pale despite the
+Virginia sun. But it was the pallor of indoor life, not of fear, as the
+countenance was good and strong, long, narrow, the chin pointed, the
+nose large and bridged like that of an old Roman, the eyes full blue
+and slightly nearsighted. But there was a faint twinkle in those same
+nearsighted eyes as he replied in precise tones:
+
+“According to all the experience of centuries and all the mathematical
+formulae that can be deduced therefrom night is bound to be followed
+by day. We have been whipped by the rebels, but it follows with
+arithmetical certainty that if we keep on fighting long enough we will
+whip them in time. Let x equal time and y equal opportunity. Then when
+x 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 regular
+as a drilled troop.”
+
+“I've been drilled too,” said the tall boy, smiling. “My name is George
+Warner, and I come from Vermont. I began teaching a district school when
+I was sixteen years old, and I would be teaching now, if it were not for
+the war. My specialty is mathematics. X equals the war, y equals me and
+x 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 the
+Revolution.”
+
+“That's my family,” replied the youth proudly. “Seth Warner delivered
+a mighty blow that helped to form this Union, and although I don't know
+much except to teach school I'm going to put in a little one to help
+save 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 this
+long and mathematical Vermont lad were going to be friends. Whitley also
+continued to look upon Warner with much favor.
+
+“I respect anybody who can talk in mathematics as you do,” he said. “Now
+with me I never know what x equals an' I never know what y equals, so
+if I was to get x an' y together they might land me about ten thousand
+miles from where I wanted to be. But a fellow can bend too much over
+books. That's what's the matter with them eyes of yours, which I notice
+always have to take two looks where I take only one.”
+
+“You are undoubtedly right,” replied Warner. “My relatives told me that
+I needed some fresh air, and I am taking it, although the process is
+attended with certain risks from bullets, swords, bayonets, cannon
+balls, and shells. Still, I have made a very close mathematical
+calculation. At home there is the chance of disease as well as here. At
+home you may fall from a cliff, you may be drowned in a creek or river
+while bathing, a tree may fall on you, a horse may throw you and break
+your 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 day
+anyhow. Now, my figures show me that the chance of death here in the war
+is only twenty-five per cent greater than it was at home, but physical
+activity and an open air continuously increase my life chances
+thirty-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 valuable
+experience. Back there on the field of Bull Run I was able to
+demonstrate by my own hearing and imagination that a hundred thousand
+rebels could fire a million bullets a minute; that every one of those
+million bullets filled with a mortal spite against me was seeking my own
+particular 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 long
+or so. But I reckon a lot of others felt the way you did, though they
+won't admit it now. Look, we're nearly to Washington now. See the dome
+of the Capitol over the trees there, an' I can catch glimpses of roofs
+too.”
+
+Dick and George also saw the capital, and cheered by the sight, they
+marched at a swifter gait. Soon they turned into the main road, where
+the bulk of the army had already passed and saw swarms of stragglers
+ahead of them. Journalists and public men met them, and Dick now learned
+how the truth about Bull Run had come to the capital. The news of defeat
+had been the more bitter, because already they had been rejoicing there
+over success. As late as five o'clock in the afternoon the telegraph had
+informed Washington of victory. Then, after a long wait, had come the
+bitter despatch telling of defeat, and flying fugitives arriving in the
+night had exaggerated it tenfold.
+
+The division to which Dick, Warner, and Whitley belonged marched over
+the Long Bridge and camped near the capital where they would remain
+until sent on further service. Dick now saw that the capital was in no
+danger. Troops were pouring into it by every train from the north and
+west. 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 the
+enemy. They heard that Lincoln had received the news of the defeat with
+great calmness, and that he had spent most of a night in his office
+listening to the personal narratives of public men who had gone forth to
+see 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 a
+rail-splitter,” said Whitley, “but I heard him two or three times, when
+he 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 at
+the mighty response that came to the defeat of Bull Run. The stream of
+recruits pouring into the capital never ceased. He now saw men, and many
+boys, too, like himself, from every state north of the Ohio River
+and from some south of it. Dan Whitley met old logging friends from
+Wisconsin whom he had not seen in years, and George Warner saw two
+pupils of his as old as himself.
+
+Dick had inherited a sensitive temperament, one that responded quickly
+and truthfully to the events occurring about him, and he foresaw the
+beginning of a mighty struggle. Here in the capital, resolution was
+hardening into a fight to the finish, and he knew from his relatives
+when he left Kentucky that the South was equally determined. There was
+an apparent pause in hostilities, but he felt that the two sections were
+merely gathering their forces for a mightier conflict.
+
+His comrades and he had little to do, and they had frequent leaves of
+absence. On one of them they saw a man of imposing appearance pass down
+Pennsylvania Avenue. He would have caught the attention of anybody,
+owing to his great height and splendid head crowned with snow-white
+hair. He was old, but he walked as if he were one who had achieved
+greatly, 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 once
+the man's identity. His eyes followed the retreating figure with the
+greatest interest. This was the young hero of the War of 1812 and the
+great commander who had carried the brilliant campaign into the capital
+of Mexico. He had been the first commander-in-chief of the Northern
+army, and, foreseeing the great scale of the coming war, had prepared
+a wide and cautious plan. But the public had sneered at him and had
+demanded 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 present
+cloud would soon pass away, and that he would be remembered as the man
+of Chippewa and Chapultepec.
+
+“McClellan is already here to take his place,” said Whitley. “He's
+the young fellow who has been winning successes in the western part of
+Virginia, an' they say he has genius.”
+
+Only a day or two later they saw McClellan walking down the same avenue
+with the President. Dick had never beheld a more striking contrast. The
+President was elderly, of great height, his head surmounted by a high
+silk hat which made him look yet taller, while his face was long,
+melancholy, and wrinkled deeply. His collar had wilted with the heat and
+the tails of his long black coat flapped about his legs.
+
+The general was clothed in a brilliant uniform. He was short and stocky
+and his head scarcely passed the President's shoulder. He was redolent
+of youth and self confidence. It showed in his quick, eager gestures and
+his emphatic manner. He attracted the two boys, but the sergeant shook
+his head somewhat solemnly.
+
+“They say Scott was too old,” he said, “and now they've gone to the
+other end of it. McClellan's too young to handle the great armies that
+are going into the field. I'm afraid he won't be a match for them old
+veterans 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 “Little
+Mac,” as they had already begun to call him. Those off duty followed and
+cheered him and the President, until they entered the White House and
+disappeared within its doors. Dick and his friends were in the crowd
+that followed, although they did not join in the cheers, not because
+they lacked faith, but because all three were thoughtful. Dick had
+soon discovered that Whitley, despite his lack of education, was an
+exceedingly 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 you
+ever think, boys, what it is to have a big war on your hands, with all
+sorts of men tellin' you all sorts of things an' tryin' to pull you in
+all sorts of directions?”
+
+“I had not thought of it before, but I will think of it now,” said
+Warner. “In any event, we are quite sure that the President has a great
+task before him. We hear that the South will soon have a quarter of a
+million troops in the field. Her position on the defensive is perhaps
+worth as many more men to her. Hence let x equal her troops, let y equal
+her defensive, and we have x plus y, which is equal to half a million
+men, the number we must have before we can meet the South on equal
+terms.”
+
+“An' to conquer her completely we'll need nigh on to a million.” said
+the sergeant.
+
+Shrewd and penetrating as was Sergeant Whitley he did not dream that
+before the giant struggle was over the South would have tripled her
+defensive quarter of a million and the North would almost have tripled
+her invading million.
+
+A few days later their regiment marched out of the capital and joined
+the forces on the hills around Arlington, where they lay for many days,
+impatient but inactive. There was much movement in the west, and they
+heard of small battles in which victory and defeat were about equal.
+The boys had shown so much zeal and ability in learning soldierly duties
+that they were made orderlies by their colonel, John Newcomb, a taciturn
+Pennsylvanian, a rich miner who had raised a regiment partly at his
+own expense, and who showed a great zeal for the Union. He, too, was
+learning how to be a soldier and he was not above asking advice now and
+then of a certain Sergeant Whitley who had the judgment to give it in
+the manner befitting one of his lowly rank.
+
+The summer days passed slowly on. The heat was intense. The Virginia
+hills and plains fairly shimmered under the burning rays of the sun. But
+still they delayed. Congress had shown the greatest courage, meeting on
+the very day that the news of Bull Run had come, and resolving to
+fight the war to a successful end, no matter what happened. But while
+McClellan was drilling and preparing, the public again began to call for
+action. “On to Richmond!” was the cry, but despite it the army did not
+yet move.
+
+European newspapers came in, and almost without exception they sneered
+at the Northern troops, and predicted the early dissolution of the
+Union. Monarchy and privileged classes everywhere rejoiced at the
+disaster threatening the great republic, and now that it was safe to do
+so, did not hesitate to show their delight. Sensitive and proud of his
+country, Dick was cut to the quick, but Warner was more phlegmatic.
+
+“Let 'em bark,” he said. “They bark because they dislike us, and they
+dislike us because they fear us. We threatened Privilege when our
+Revolution succeeded and the Republic was established. The fact of our
+existence was the threat and the threat has increased with our years
+and growth. Europe is for the South, but the reason for it is one of the
+simplest problems in mathematics. Ten per cent of it is admiration
+for the Southern victory at Bull Run, and ninety per cent of it is
+hatred--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 the
+harder to keep them from being a failure. Look, there goes our balloon!”
+
+Every day, usually late in the afternoon, a captive balloon rose from
+the Northern camp, and officers with powerful glasses inspected the
+Southern position, watching for an advance or a new movement of any
+kind.
+
+“I'm going up in it some day,” said Dick, confidently. “Colonel Newcomb
+has promised me that he will take me with him when his turn for the
+ascension comes.”
+
+The chance was a week in coming, a tremendously long time it seemed
+to Dick, but it came at last. He climbed into the basket with Colonel
+Newcomb, two generals, and the aeronauts and sat very quiet in a corner.
+He felt an extraordinary thrill when the ropes were allowed to slide and
+the balloon was slowly going almost straight upward. The sensation was
+somewhat similar to that which shook him when he went into battle at
+Bull Run, but pride came to his rescue and he soon forgot the physical
+tremor to watch the world that now rolled beneath them, a world that
+they seemed to have left, although the ropes always held.
+
+Dick's gaze instinctively turned southward, where he knew the
+Confederate army lay. A vast and beautiful panorama spread in a
+semi-circle before him. The green of summer, the green that had been
+stained so fearfully at Bull Run, was gone. The grass was now brown from
+the great heats and the promise of autumn soon to come, but--from the
+height 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. Narrow
+ribbons of silver here and there were the numerous brooks and creeks
+that cut the country. Groves, still heavy and dark with foliage, hung
+on the hills, or filled some valley, like green in a bowl. Now and then,
+among clumps of trees, colonial houses with their pillared porticoes
+appeared.
+
+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 beneath
+them, and he would not look down. But he did look back, and saw the
+broad band of the Potomac, and beyond it the white dome of the Capitol
+and the roof of Washington. But his gaze turned again to the South,
+where his absorbing interest lay, and once more he viewed the quiet
+country, rolling away until it touched the horizon rim. The afternoon
+was growing late, and great terraces of red and gold were heaping above
+one another in the sky until they reached the zenith.
+
+“Try the glasses for a moment, Dick,” said Colonel Newcomb, as he passed
+them to the boy.
+
+Dick swept them across the South in a great semi-circle, and now new
+objects rose upon the surface of the earth. He saw distinctly the
+long chain of the Blue Ridge rising on the west, then blurring in the
+distance into a solid black rampart. In the south he saw a long curving
+line of rising blue plumes. It did not need Colonel Newcomb to tell him
+that these were the campfires of the army that they had met on the
+field of Bull Run, and that the Southern troops were now cooking their
+suppers.
+
+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 their
+victory, the defiance was justified, and those fires might come nearer
+yet. Dick, catching the tone of older men who shared his views, had not
+believed at first that the rebellion would last long, but his opinion
+was changing fast, and the talk of wise Sergeant Whitley was helping
+much in that change.
+
+While he yet looked through the glasses he saw a plume of white smoke
+coming swiftly towards the Southern fires. Then he remembered the two
+lines of railroad that met on the battlefield, giving it its other
+name, Manassas Junction, and he knew that the smoke came from an engine
+pulling cars loaded with supplies for their foes.
+
+He whispered of the train as he handed the glasses back to Colonel
+Newcomb, and then the colonel and the generals alike made a long
+examination.
+
+“Beauregard will certainly have an abundance of supplies,” said one of
+the generals. “I hear that arms and provisions are coming by every train
+from the South, and meanwhile we are making no advance.”
+
+“We can't advance yet,” said the other general emphatically. “McClellan
+is right in making elaborate preparations and long drills before moving
+upon the enemy. It was inexperience, and not want of courage, that beat
+us at Bull Run.”
+
+“The Southerners had the same inexperience.”
+
+“But they had the defensive. I hear that Tom Jackson saved them, and
+that 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 the
+hardest students I have ever known. The boys laughed at him when he
+first 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 of
+the way from Virginia to reach West Point. I hear now, too, that he is
+very religious, and always intends to pray before going into battle.”
+
+“That's a bad sign--for us,” said the other general. “It's easy enough
+to sneer at praying men, but just you remember Cromwell. I'm a little
+shaky on my history, but I've an impression that when Cromwell, the
+Ironsides, old Praise-God-Barebones, and the rest knelt, said a few
+words to their God, sang a little and advanced with their pikes, they
+went wherever they intended to go and that Prince Rupert and all the
+Cavaliers could not stop them.”
+
+“It is so,” said the other gravely. “A man who believes thoroughly in
+his God, who is not afraid to die, who, in fact, rather favors dying on
+the field, is an awful foe to meet in battle.”
+
+“We may have some of the same on our side,” said Colonel Newcomb. “We
+have at least a great Puritan population from which to draw.”
+
+One of the generals gave the signal and the balloon was slowly pulled
+down. Dick, grateful for his experience, thanked Colonel Newcomb and
+rejoined his comrades.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE MOUNTAIN LIGHTS
+
+
+When Dick left the balloon it was nearly night. Hundreds of campfires
+lighted up the hills about him, but beyond their circle the darkness
+enclosed everything. He still felt the sensations of one who had been at
+a great height and who had seen afar. That rim of Southern campfires was
+yet in his mind, and he wondered why the Northern commander allowed
+them 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 reached
+great 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, where
+he knew he would find his friend, George Warner. Sergeant Whitley was
+there, too, showing some young recruits how to cook without waste, and
+the 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 only
+way in which I wish to leave it for the next sixty or seventy years. It
+was a wonderful sight, George, and not the least wonderful thing in it
+was the campfires of the Southern army, burning down there towards Bull
+Run.”
+
+“Burnin' where they ought not to be,” said Whitley--no gulf was yet
+established between commissioned and non-commissioned officers in either
+army. “Little Mac may be a great organizer, as they say, but you can
+keep on organizin' an' organizin', until it's too late to do what you
+want to do.”
+
+“It's a sound principle that you lay down, Mr. Whitley,” said Warner
+in his precise tones. “In fact, it may be reduced to a mathematical
+formula. Delay is always a minus quantity which may be represented by
+y. Achievement is represented by x, and, consequently, when you have
+achievement hampered by delay you have x minus y, which is an extremely
+doubtful quantity, often amounting to failure.”
+
+“I travel another road in my reckonin's,” said Whitley, “I don't know
+anything about x and y, but I guess you an' me, George, come to the same
+place. It's been a full six weeks since Bull Run, an' we haven't done a
+thing.”
+
+Whitley, despite their difference in rank, could not yet keep from
+addressing the boys by their first names. But they took it as a matter
+of course, in view of the fact that he was so much older than they and
+vastly their superior in military knowledge.
+
+“Dick,” continued the sergeant, “what was it you was sayin' about a
+cousin of yours from the same town in Kentucky bein' out there in the
+Southern army?”
+
+“He's certainly there,” replied Dick, “if he wasn't killed in the
+battle, which I feel couldn't have happened to a fellow like Harry.
+We're from the same little town in Kentucky, Pendleton. He's descended
+straight from one of the greatest Indian fighters, borderers and heroes
+the country down there ever knew, Henry Ware, who afterwards became one
+of the early governors of the State. And I'm descended from Henry Ware's
+famous friend, Paul Cotter, who, in his time, was the greatest scholar
+in all the West. Henry Ware and Paul Cotter were like the old Greek
+friends, Damon and Pythias. Harry and I are proud to have their blood in
+our veins. Besides being cousins, there are other things to make Harry
+and me think a lot of each other. Oh, he's a grand fellow, even if he is
+on the wrong side!”
+
+Dick's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he spoke of the cousin and
+comrade of his childhood.
+
+“The chances of war bring about strange situations, or at least I have
+heard so,” said Warner. “Now, Dick, if you were to meet your cousin face
+to face on the battlefield with a loaded gun in your hand what would you
+do?”
+
+“I'd raise that gun, take deliberate aim at a square foot of air about
+thirty feet over his head and pull the trigger.”
+
+“But your duty to your country tells you to do otherwise. Before you is
+a foe trying to destroy the Union. You have come out armed to save that
+Union, consequently you must fire straight at him and not at the air, in
+order to reduce the number of our enemies.”
+
+“One enemy where there are so many would not count for anything in the
+total. Your arithmetic will show you that Harry's percentage in the
+Southern army is so small that it reaches the vanishing point. If I can
+borrow 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, which
+is nothing, that is, worth nothing to the Union. Hence I have no more
+obligation 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 one
+comes along right to the same place you ought to 'tend to the bigger
+one. I'd never shoot anybody that was a heap to me just because he was
+one of three or four hundred thousand who was on the other side. I've
+never thought much of that old Roman father--I forget his name--who had
+his son executed just because he wasn't doin' exactly right. There
+was never a rule that oughtn't to have exceptions under extraordinary
+circumstances.”
+
+“If you can establish the principle of exceptions,” replied the young
+Vermonter very gravely, “I will allow Dick to shoot in the air when he
+meets his cousin in the height of battle, but it is a difficult task to
+establish it, and if it fails Dick, according to all rules of logic and
+duty, must shoot straight at his cousin's heart.”
+
+The other two looked at Warner and saw his left eyelid droop slightly. A
+faint 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 Colonel
+Newcomb's quarters, where he spent the entire evening writing despatches
+at dictation. He was hopeful that all this writing portended something,
+but more days passed, and despite the impatience of both army and
+public, there was no movement. Stories of confused and uncertain
+fighting still came out of the west, but between Washington and Bull Run
+there was perfect peace.
+
+The summer passed. Autumn came and deepened. The air was crisp and
+sparkling. The leaves, turned into glowing reds and yellows and browns,
+began to fall from the trees. The advancing autumn contained the promise
+of winter soon to come. The leaves fell faster and sharp winds blew,
+bringing with them chill rains. Little Mac, or the Young Napoleon, as
+many of his friends loved to call him, continued his preparations, and
+despite all the urgings of President and Congress, would not move. His
+fatal defect now showed in all its destructiveness. To him the enemy
+always appeared threefold his natural size.
+
+Reliable scouts brought back the news that the Southern troops at
+Manassas, a full two months after their victory there, numbered only
+forty thousand. The Northern commander issued statements that the enemy
+was before him with one hundred and fifty thousand soldiers. He demanded
+that his own forces should be raised to nearly a quarter of a million
+men and nearly five hundred cannon before he could move.
+
+The veteran, Scott, full of triumphs and honors, but feeling himself out
+of place in his old age, went into retirement. McClellan, now in sole
+command, still lingered and delayed, while the South, making good use of
+precious months, gathered all her forces to meet him or whomsoever came
+against her.
+
+Youth chafed most against the long waiting. It seemed to Dick and his
+mathematical Vermont friend that time was fairly wasting away under
+their feet, and the wise sergeant agreed with them.
+
+The weather had grown so cold now that they built fires for warmth as
+well as cooking, and the two youths sat with Sergeant Whitley one cold
+evening in late October before a big blaze. Both were tanned deeply by
+wind, sun and rain, and they had grown uncommonly hardy, but the wind
+that night came out of the northwest, and it had such a sharp edge to
+it that they were glad to draw their blankets over their backs and
+shoulders.
+
+Dick was re-reading a letter from his mother, a widow who lived on the
+outskirts of Pendleton. It had come that morning, and it was the only
+one that had reached him since his departure from Kentucky. But she had
+received another that he had written to her directly after the Battle of
+Bull Run.
+
+She wrote of her gratitude because Providence had watched over him in
+that dreadful conflict, all the more dreadful because it was friend
+against friend, brother against brother. The state, she said, was all in
+confusion. Everybody suspected everybody else. The Southerners were full
+of victory, the Northerners were hopeful of victory yet to come. Colonel
+Kenton was with the Southern force under General Buckner, gathered at
+Bowling Green in that state, but his son, her nephew Harry, was still in
+the east with Beauregard. She had heard that the troops of the west and
+northwest were coming down the Ohio and Mississippi in great numbers,
+and people expected hard fighting to occur very soon in western and
+southern Kentucky. It was all very dreadful, and a madness seemed to
+have come over the land, but she hoped that Providence would continue to
+watch 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 the
+sheets carefully and returned them to their place in the inside pocket
+of his coat. Then he looked for a while thoughtfully into the blaze and
+the great bed of coals that had formed beneath. As far as one could see
+to right and left like fires burned, but the night remained dark with
+promise of rain, and the chill wind out of the northwest increased in
+vigor. 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 Confederate
+general, Buckner, whom I know, is gathering a large force around Bowling
+Green in the southern part of our state, and that fighting is sure to
+occur soon between that town and the Mississippi. An officer named Grant
+has come down from Illinois, and he is said to be pushing the Union
+troops forward with a lot of vigor. Sergeant, you are up on army
+affairs. 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 officers
+who resigned from the army after the Mexican War. There was so little to
+do then, and so little chance of promotion, that a lot of them quit to
+go into business. I suppose they'll all be coming back now.”
+
+“I want to go out there,” said Dick. “It's my country, and the
+westerners at least are acting. But look at our army here! Bull Run was
+fought the middle of summer. Now it's nearly winter, and nothing has
+been done. We don't get out of sight of Washington. If I can get myself
+sent 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 the
+thick of it.”
+
+“You're his favorite aide,” said the calculating young Vermonter. “Can't
+you sow those western seeds in his mind and keep on sowing them? The
+fact that you are from this western battle ground will give more weight
+to what you say. You do this, and I'll wager that within a week the
+Colonel will induce the President to send the whole regiment to the
+Mississippi.”
+
+“Can you reduce your prediction to a mathematical certainty?” asked
+Dick, 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'm
+a mathematician and I work with facts, but you have the glowing
+imagination that conduces to the creation of facts.”
+
+“Big words! Grand words!” said the sergeant.
+
+“Never let Colonel Newcomb forget the west,” continued Warner, not
+noticing the interruption. “Keep it before him all the time. Hint
+that there can be no success along the Mississippi without him and his
+regiment.”
+
+“I'll do what I can,” promised Dick faithfully, and he did much. Colonel
+Newcomb had already formed a strong attachment for this zealous and
+valuable young aide, and he did not forget the words that Dick said on
+every convenient occasion about the west. He made urgent representations
+that he and his regiment be sent to the relief of the struggling
+Northern forces there, and he contrived also that these petitions should
+reach 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 the
+mountains of West Virginia and Kentucky, and help the mountaineers who
+were loyal to the Union. If they accomplished that task with success,
+they were to proceed to the greater theatre in Western Kentucky and
+Tennessee. It was not all they wished, but they thought it far better
+than remaining at Washington, where it seemed that the army would remain
+indefinitely.
+
+Colonel Newcomb, who was sitting in his tent bending over maps with his
+staff, summoned Dick.
+
+“You are a Kentuckian, my lad,” he said, “and I thought you might know
+something about this region into which we are going.”
+
+“Not much, sir,” replied Dick. “My home is much further west in a
+country 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 of
+some 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 that
+man, and I've a faint suspicion that he knows more about war than any of
+us 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 Hertford
+was about twenty-five and of fine manner and appearance.
+
+“Well spoken, Major Hertford,” said the thoughtful miner, Colonel
+Newcomb. “Now, Dick, you can go, and remember that we are to start for
+Washington early in the morning and take a train there for the north. It
+will 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 or
+instruction. At the first spear of dawn the regiment marched away in
+splendid order from Arlington to Washington, where the train that was to
+bear them to new fields and unknown fortunes was ready.
+
+It was a long train of many coaches, as the regiment numbered seven
+hundred men, and it also carried with it four guns, mounted on trucks.
+The coaches were all of primitive pattern. The soldiers were to sleep on
+the seats, and their arms and supplies were heaped in the aisles. It was
+a cold, drizzling day of closing autumn, and the capital looked sodden
+and gloomy. Cameron, the Secretary of War, came to see them off and
+to make the customary prediction concerning their valor and victory to
+come. But he was a cold man, and he was repellent to Dick, used to more
+warmth of temperament.
+
+Then, with a ringing of bells, a heave of the engine, a great puffing of
+smoke, and a mighty rattling of wheels, the train drew out of Washington
+and made its noisy way toward Baltimore. Dick and Warner were on the
+same seat. It was only forty miles to Baltimore, but their slow train
+would be perhaps three hours in arriving. So they had ample opportunity
+to 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 trees
+under the early winter rain. Bare boughs and brown grass went past their
+windows and the fields were deserted. The landscape looked chill and
+sullen.
+
+Warner was less depressed than Dick. He had an even temperament based
+solidly upon mathematical calculations. He knew that while it might
+be raining today, the chances were several to one against its raining
+tomorrow.
+
+“I've good cause to remember Baltimore,” he said. “I was with the New
+England troops when they had the fight there on the way down to the
+capital. Although we hold it, it's really a Southern city, Dick. Most
+all the border cities are Southern in sympathy, and they're swarming
+with people who will send to the Southern leaders news of every movement
+we make. I state, and moreover I assert it in the face of all the
+world, that the knowledge of our departure from Washington is already
+in Southern hands. By close mathematical calculation the chances are at
+least ninety-five per cent in favor of my statement.”
+
+“Very likely,” said Dick, “and we'll have that sort of thing to face all
+the 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 of
+the same.”
+
+“Guess you're right. Arithmetic shows at least one hundred per cent of
+probability in favor of your suggestion.”
+
+Dick looked up and down the long coach packed with young troops. Besides
+the commissioned officers and the sergeants, there was not one in the
+coach who was twenty-five. Most of them were nineteen or twenty, and
+it was the same in the other coaches. After the first depression their
+spirits rose. The temper of youth showed strongly. They were eager to
+see Baltimore, but the train stopped there only a few minutes, and they
+were not allowed to leave the coaches.
+
+Then the train turned towards the west. The drizzle of rain had now
+become a pour, and it drove so heavily that they could see but little
+outside. Food was served at noon and afterward many slept in the cramped
+seats. Dick, despite his stiff position, fell asleep too. By the middle
+of the afternoon everybody in their coach was slumbering soundly except
+Sergeant Whitley, who sat by the door leading to the next car.
+
+All that afternoon and into the night the train rattled and moved into
+the west. The beautiful rolling country was left behind, and they were
+now among the mountains, whirling around precipices so sharply that
+often the sleeping boys were thrown from the seats of the coaches. But
+they were growing used to hardships. They merely climbed back again upon
+the seats, and were asleep once more in half a minute.
+
+The rain still fell and the wind blew fiercely among the somber
+mountains. A second engine had been added to the train, and the speed
+of the train was slackened. The engineer in front stared at the slippery
+rails, but he could see only a few yards. The pitchy darkness closed in
+ahead, hiding everything, even the peaks and ridges. The heart of
+that engineer, and he was a brave man, as brave as any soldier on the
+battlefield, had sunk very low. Railroads were little past their infancy
+then and this was the first to cross the mountains. He was by no means
+certain of his track, and, moreover, the rocks and forest might shelter
+an ambush.
+
+The Alleghanies and their outlying ridges and spurs are not lofty
+mountains, but to this day they are wild and almost inaccessible in
+many places. Nature has made them a formidable barrier, and in the
+great Civil War those who trod there had to look with all their eyes and
+listen with all their ears. The engineer was not alone in his anxiety
+this night. Colonel Newcomb rose from an uneasy doze and he went with
+Major Hertford into the engineer's cab. They were now going at the rate
+of not more than five or six miles an hour, the long train winding like
+a snake around the edges of precipices and feeling its way gingerly over
+the trestles that spanned the deep valleys. All trains made a great roar
+and rattle then, and the long ravines gave it back in a rumbling and
+menacing echo. Gusts of rain were swept now and then into the faces of
+the engineer, the firemen and the officers.
+
+“Do you see anything ahead, Canby?” said Colonel Newcomb to the
+engineer.
+
+“Nothing. That's the trouble, sir. If it were a clear night I shouldn't
+be worried. Then we wouldn't be likely to steam into danger with our
+eyes shut. This is a wild country. The mountaineers in the main are for
+us, but we are not far north of the Southern line, and if they know we
+are crossing they may undertake to raid in here.”
+
+“And they may know it,” said the colonel. “Washington is full of
+Southern sympathizers. Stop the train, Canby, when we come to the first
+open and level space, and we'll do some scouting ahead.”
+
+The engineer felt great relief. He was devoutly glad that the colonel
+was going to take such a precaution. At that moment he, more than
+Colonel Newcomb, was responsible for the lives of the seven hundred
+human beings aboard the train, and his patriotism and sense of
+responsibility were both strong.
+
+The train, with much jolting and clanging, stopped fifteen minutes
+later. Both Dick and Warner, awakened by the shock, sat up and rubbed
+their eyes. Then they left the train at once to join Colonel Newcomb,
+who might want them immediately. Wary Sergeant Whitley followed them in
+silence.
+
+The boys found Colonel Newcomb and the remaining members of his staff
+standing near, and seeking anxiously to discover the nature of the
+country about them. The colonel nodded when they arrived, and gave them
+an 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 he
+learned from his words that this valley was about three miles long with
+a width of perhaps half a mile. A little mountain river rushed down its
+center, 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 of
+darkness and rain. He was instantly aware, too, of a tense and uneasy
+feeling among the officers. All of them carried glasses, but in the
+darkness they could not use them. Lights began to appear in the train
+and many heads were thrust out at the windows.
+
+“Go through the coaches, Mr. Mason and Mr. Warner,” said Colonel
+Newcomb, “and have every light put out immediately. Tell them, too, that
+my orders are for absolute silence.”
+
+Dick and the Vermonter did their work rapidly, receiving many curious
+inquiries, as they went from coach to coach, all of which they were
+honestly unable to answer. They knew no more than the other boys about
+the situation. But when they left the last coach and returned to the
+officers near the engine, the train was in total darkness, and no sound
+came from it. Colonel Newcomb again gave them an approving nod. Dick
+noticed that the fires in the engine were now well covered, and that no
+sparks came from the smoke-stack. Standing by it he could see the long
+shape of the train running back in the darkness, but it would have been
+invisible 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 this
+darkness and rain.”
+
+“But they've had the advance information! Look there!” exclaimed Major
+Hertford, pointing toward the high ridge that lay on their right.
+
+A beam of light had appeared on the loftiest spur, standing out at first
+like a red star in the darkness, then growing intensely brighter, and
+burning with a steady, vivid light. The effect was weird and powerful.
+The mountain beneath it was invisible, and it seemed to burn there like
+a 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, like
+the appearance of a genie out of the Arabian Nights.
+
+The light, after remaining fixed for at least a minute, began to move
+slowly from side to side and then faster.
+
+“A signal!” exclaimed Colonel Newcomb. “Beyond a doubt it is the
+Southerners. Whatever they're saying they're saying it to somebody. Look
+toward the south!”
+
+“Ah, there they are answering!” exclaimed Major Hertford.
+
+All had wheeled simultaneously, and on another high spur a mile to the
+south a second red light as vivid and intense as the first was flashing
+back and forth. It, too, the mountain below invisible, seemed to swing
+in the heavens. Dick, standing there in the darkness and rain, and
+knowing that imminent and mortal danger was on either side, felt a
+frightful chill creeping slowly down his spine. It is a terrible
+thing to feel through some superior sense that an invisible foe is
+approaching, and not be able to know by any kind of striving whence he
+came.
+
+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 were
+warned in some manner from Washington of our departure.”
+
+“I think so, too. It is probable that they saw the light and have been
+signalling their knowledge to each other. It seems likely to me that
+they will wait at the far end of the valley to cut us off. What force do
+you 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 skillful
+and dangerous foe, as you know.”
+
+Already the fame of this daring Confederate horseman was spreading over
+Virginia and Maryland.
+
+“If we are right in our guess,” said Major Hertford, “they will
+dismount, lead their horses along the mountain side, and shut down the
+trap upon us. Doubtless they are in superior force, and know the country
+much better than we do. If they get ahead of us and have a little time
+to do it in they will certainly tear up the tracks.”
+
+“I think you are right in all respects,” said Colonel Newcomb. “But it
+is obvious that we must not give them time to destroy the road ahead of
+us. As for the rest, I wonder.”
+
+He pulled uneasily at his short beard, and then he caught sight of
+Sergeant Whitley standing silently, arms folded, by the side of the
+engine. Newcomb, the miner colonel, was a man of big and open mind.
+A successful business man, he had the qualities which made him a good
+general by the time the war was in its third year. He knew Whitley and
+he knew, too, that he was an old army regular, bristling with experience
+and shrewdness.
+
+“Sergeant Whitley,” he said, “in this emergency what would you do, if
+you 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 the
+engineers take the train forward slowly, while the troops marched on
+either side of it, but at a sufficient distance to be hidden in the
+darkness. Then, sir, our men could not be caught in a wreck, but with
+their 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 other
+officers also nodded approval. “Your plan is excellent and we will adopt
+it. 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 young
+soldiers were out of the train in two minutes and were forming in lines
+on either side, arms ready. There were many whisperings among these
+boys, but none loud enough to be heard twenty yards away. All felt
+intense relief when they left the train and stood upon the solid, though
+decidedly damp earth.
+
+But the cold rain sweeping upon their faces was a tonic, both mental and
+physical, after the close heat of the train. They did not know why they
+had disembarked, but they surmised with good reason that an attack was
+threatened and they were eager to meet it.
+
+Dick and Warner were near the head of the line on the right of the
+tracks, and Sergeant Whitley was with them. The train began to puff
+heavily, and in spite of every precaution some sparks flew from the
+smoke-stack. Dick knew that it was bound to rumble and rattle when it
+started, 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 the
+silence of the night it could be heard three or four miles. Then he
+realized that it was merely his own excitement and extreme tension of
+both mind and body. Canby was taking the train forward so gently that
+its sounds were drowned two hundred yards away in the swirl of wind and
+rain.
+
+The men marched, each line keeping abreast of the train, but fifty yards
+or more to one side. The young troops were forbidden to speak and their
+footsteps made no noise in the wet grass and low bushes. Dick and Warner
+kept their eyes on the mountains, turning them alternately from north to
+south. Nothing appeared on either ridge, and no sound came to tell of an
+enemy near.
+
+Dick began to believe that they would pass through the valley and out of
+the trap without a combat. But while a train may go two or three miles
+in a few minutes it takes troops marching in the darkness over uncertain
+ground a long time to cover the same distance. They marched a full half
+hour and then Dick suppressed a cry. The light, burning as intensely
+red as before, appeared again on the mountain to the right, but further
+toward the west, seeming to have moved parallel to the Northern troops.
+As Dick looked it began to flash swiftly from side to side and that
+chill and weird feeling again ran down his spine. He looked toward the
+south and there was the second signal, red and intense, replying to the
+first.
+
+Dick heard a deep “Ah!” run along the line of young troops, and he knew
+now that they understood as much as he or any of the officers did. He
+now knew, too, that they would not pass out of the valley without a
+combat. The Southern forces, beyond a doubt, would try to shut them in
+at the western mouth of the valley, and a battle in the night and rain
+was sure to follow.
+
+The train continued to move slowly forward. Had Colonel Newcomb dared
+he would have ordered Canby to increase his speed in order that he might
+reach the western mouth of the valley before the Southern force had a
+chance to tear up the rails, but there was no use for the train without
+the 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 able
+to discern it, because the darkness there was not quite so dark as that
+which lay against the mountains on either side. He was hopeful that they
+might 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. Showers
+of sparks shot from the funnels of the two engines, and gleamed for
+an instant in the darkness. The beat of horses' feet grew to thunder.
+Colonel Newcomb with great presence of mind drew the two parallel lines
+of his men close together, and ordered them to lie down on either side
+of the railroad track and face outward with cocked rifles. Dick, the
+Vermonter, and Sergeant Whitley lay close together, and the three faced
+the north.
+
+“See the torches!” said Whitley.
+
+Dick saw eight or ten torches wavering and flickering at a height of
+seven or eight feet above the ground, and he knew that they were carried
+by horsemen, but he could not see either men or horses beneath. Then the
+rapid beat of hoofs ceased abruptly at a distance that Dick thought must
+be 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 of
+flame. 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 they
+had pressed themselves against the solid earth. A sheet of bullets swept
+toward them. Most passed over their heads, but many struck upon bones
+and flesh, and cries of pain rose from the lines of men lying along the
+railroad track.
+
+The seven hundred pulled trigger and fired at the flash. They fired
+so well that Dick could hear Southern horses neighing with pain, and
+struggling in the darkness. He felt sure that many men, too, had been
+hit. At least no charge came. The seven hundred shouted with exultation
+and, leaping to their feet, prepared to fire a second volley. But the
+swift 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 bullets
+would pass over our heads and strike their own comrades. For the same
+reason they must have dropped back a little in order to avoid the fire
+of their friends. Their volley will come from an angle about midway
+between our left and rear.”
+
+Just as he spoke the last words the rifles flashed at the surmised angle
+and again the bullets beat among the young troops or swept over their
+heads. A soldier was killed only a few feet from Dick. The boy picked up
+his rifle and ammunition and began to fire whenever he saw the flash of
+an opposing weapon. But the fire of both Confederate columns ceased in
+a minute or two, and not a shot nor the sound of a single order came out
+of the darkness. But Dick with his ear to the soft earth, could hear the
+crush of hoofs in the mud, and with a peculiar ability to discern whence
+sound came he knew that the force on the left and rear was crossing
+the railroad track in order to join their comrades on the north. He
+whispered his knowledge to Whitley, who whispered back:
+
+“It's the natural thing for them to do. They could not afford to fight
+on in the darkness with two separate forces. The two columns would soon
+be firing into each other.”
+
+Colonel Newcomb now gave an order for the men to rise and follow the
+railroad track, but also to fire at the flash of the rifles whenever
+a volley was poured upon them. He must not only beat off the Southern
+attack, but also continue the journey to those points in the west where
+they were needed so sorely. Some of his men had been killed, and he
+was compelled to leave their bodies where they had fallen. Others were
+wounded, but without exception they were helped along by their comrades.
+
+Warner also had secured a rifle, with which he fired occasionally, but
+he and Dick, despite the darkness, kept near to Colonel Newcomb in
+order that they might deliver any orders that he should choose to give.
+Sergeant Whitley was close to them. Dick presently heard the rush of
+water.
+
+“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 rather
+trestle is only a little further, and we've got to walk the ties, if we
+reach 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 embankment
+several feet high, and took shelter on its southern side. They now had
+an advantage for a while, as they fired from a breastwork upon their
+foes, who were in the open. But the darkness, lit only by the flashes of
+the rifles, kept the fire of both sides from being very destructive, the
+bullets being sent mainly at random.
+
+Dick dimly saw the trestle work ahead of them, and the roaring of the
+little river increased. He did not know how deep the water was, but he
+was 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 Colonel
+Newcomb.
+
+“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 suspect
+the 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 left
+as they approached the trestle, march swiftly down the slope, and dash
+into the stream. As fast as they reached the other side of the ford the
+men should form upon the bank there, and with their rifles cover the
+passage of their comrades.
+
+The skeleton work of the trestle now rose more clearly into view. The
+rain had almost ceased and faint rays of moonlight showed through the
+rifts where the clouds had broken apart. The boys distinctly heard the
+gurgling rush of waters, and they also saw the clear, bluish surface of
+the mountain stream. The same quickening of light disclosed the Southern
+force on their right flank and rear, only four or five hundred yards
+away. Dick's hasty glance backward lingered for a moment on a powerful
+man on a white horse just in advance of the Southern column. He saw
+this man raise his hand and then command the men to fire. He and twenty
+others under the impulse of excitement shouted to the regiment to drop
+down, and the Northern lads did so.
+
+Most of the volley passed over their heads. Rising they sent back a
+return discharge, and then the head of the columns rushed into the
+stream. Dick felt swift water whirling about him and tugging at his
+body, but it rose no higher than his waist, although foam and spray
+were dashed into his face. He heard all around him the splashing of his
+comrades, and their murmurs of satisfaction. They realized now that they
+were not only able to retreat before a much superior force, but this
+same stream, when crossed, would form a barrier behind which they could
+fight two to one.
+
+The Confederate leader, whoever he might be, and Dick had no doubt that
+he was the redoubtable Turner Ashby, also appreciated the full facts and
+he drove his whole force straight at the regiment. It was well for
+the young troops that part of them were already across, and, under the
+skillful leadership of Colonel Newcomb, Major Hertford, and three or
+four old, regular army sergeants, of whom the best was Whitley, were
+already forming in line of battle.
+
+“Kneel,” shouted the colonel, “and fire over the heads of your comrades
+at the enemy!”
+
+The light was still growing brighter. The rain came only in slight
+flurries. The clouds were trooping off toward the northeast, and the
+moon was out. Dick clearly saw the black mass of the Southern horsemen
+wheeling down upon them. At least three hundred of the regiment were now
+upon the bank, and, with fairly steady aim, they poured a heavy volley
+into the massed ranks of their foe. Dick saw horses fall while others
+dashed away riderless. But the Southern line wavered only for a moment
+and then came on again with many shouts. There were also dismounted
+men on either flank who knelt and maintained a heavy fire upon the
+defenders.
+
+The lads in blue were suffering many wounds, but a line of trees
+and underbrush on the western shore helped them. Lying there partly
+protected they loaded and pulled trigger as fast as they could, while
+the rest of their comrades emerged dripping from the stream to join
+them. The Confederates, brave as they were, had no choice but to give
+ground against such strong defense, and the miner colonel, despite his
+reserve and his middle years, gave vent to his exultation.
+
+“We can hold this line forever!” he exclaimed to his aides. “It's one
+thing to charge us in the open, but it's quite another to get at us
+across a deep and rushing stream. Major Hertford, take part of the men
+to the other side of the railroad track and drive back any attempt at a
+crossing there. Lieutenant Mason, you and Lieutenant Warner go ahead and
+see what has become of the train. You can get back here in plenty time
+for 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 the
+river, but orders must be obeyed. As they ran down the railroad track a
+man came forward swinging a lantern, and they saw the tall gaunt figure
+of Canby, the chief engineer. Behind him the train stretched away in the
+darkness.
+
+“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 in
+the 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 us
+a great position for defense, and I know we can hold it. Colonel Newcomb
+did 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 the
+west. Is all clear ahead?”
+
+“No enemy is there. Some of the brakemen have gone on a mile or two and
+they say the track hasn't been touched. You tell Colonel Newcomb that
+I'm bringing the train right down to the battle line.”
+
+Dick and Warner returned quickly to Colonel Newcomb, who appreciated
+Canby's courage and presence of mind. As the train approached the four
+cannon were unloaded from the trucks, and swept the further shore with
+shell and shrapnel. After a scattered fire the Southern force withdrew
+some distance, where it halted, apparently undecided. The clouds rolled
+up 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, cross
+under cover of the new darkness and attack us in heavy force on the
+flank. Suppose we get aboard the train at once, cannon and all, and
+leave 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 left
+behind.”
+
+He gave rapid orders to all his officers and aides, and in fifteen
+minutes the troops were aboard the train again, the cannon were lifted
+upon the trucks, Canby and his assistants had all steam up, and the
+train with its usual rattle and roar resumed its flight into the west.
+
+Dick and Warner were in the first coach near Colonel Newcomb, ready for
+any commands that he might give. Both had come through the defense of
+the ford without injury, although a bullet had gone through Dick's coat
+without touching the skin. Sergeant Whitley, too, was unharmed, but the
+regiment had suffered. More than twenty dead were left in the valley for
+the enemy to bury.
+
+Despite all the commands and efforts of the officers there was much
+excited talk in the train. Boys were binding up wounds of other boys and
+were condoling with them. But on the whole they were exultant. Youth
+did 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 rode
+us right down with their horses if it hadn't been for the stream an' its
+banks.”
+
+“Ouch, don't draw that bandage so tight on my arm. It ain't nothin' but
+a flesh wound.”
+
+“I hate a battle in the dark. Give me the good sunshine, where you can
+see what's goin' on. My God, that you Bill! I'm tremendous glad to see
+you! 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 was
+pressed against the rain-marked pane. The rifle that he had picked up
+and 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 river
+behind which they had fought, and which had served them so well as a
+barrier. In fact, he knew that it had saved them. But they had beaten
+off the enemy! The pulses in his temples still throbbed from exertion
+and excitement, but his heart beat exultantly. The bitterness of Bull
+Run 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 from
+further attack. They were still running among mountains, clad heavily
+in forest, but a meeting with a second Southern force was beyond
+probability. The first had made a quick raid on information supplied by
+spies in Washington, but it had failed and the way was now clear.
+
+Ample food was served somewhat late to the whole regiment, the last
+wounds were bound up, and Dick, having put aside the rifle, fell asleep
+at last. His head lay against the window and he slept heavily all
+through the night. Warner in the next seat slept in the same way. But
+the wise old sergeant just across the aisle remained awake much longer.
+He was summing up and he concluded that the seven hundred lads had done
+well. 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 something
+vastly greater than anything that had occurred on the plains. “Whipped
+into shape!” Why, in the mighty war that was gathering along a front of
+two thousand miles no soldier could escape being whipped into shape, or
+being whipped out of it.
+
+But the sergeant's own eyes closed after a while, and he, too, slept the
+sleep of utter mental and physical exhaustion. The train rumbled on, the
+faithful Canby in the first engine aware of his great responsibility and
+equal to it. Not a wink of sleep for him that night. The darkness had
+lightened somewhat more. The black of the skies had turned to a dusky
+blue, and the bolder stars were out. He could always see the shining
+rails three or four hundred yards ahead, and he sent his train steadily
+forward at full speed, winding among the gorges and rattling over the
+trestles. 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, and
+while it was on the train his responsibility was not inferior to that of
+Colonel Newcomb.
+
+When Dick awoke, bright light was pouring in at the car windows, but the
+car was cold and his body was stiff and sore. His military overcoat had
+been thrown over him in the night and Warner had been covered in
+the same way. They did not know that Sergeant Whitley had done that
+thoughtful act.
+
+Dick stretched himself and drew deep breaths. Warm youth soon sent the
+blood flowing in a full tide through his veins, and the stiffness
+and soreness departed. He saw through the window that they were still
+running among the mountains, but they did not seem to be so high here
+as they were at the river by which they had fought in the night. He knew
+from his geography and his calculation of time that they must be far
+into that part of Virginia which is now West Virginia.
+
+There was no rain now, at least where the train was running, but the
+sun had risen on a cold world. Far up on the higher peaks he saw a fine
+white mist which he believed to be falling snow. Obviously it was winter
+here 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 feverish
+with their wounds, were moving restlessly on their seats, where they lay
+protected by the blankets of their fellows.
+
+Dick now and then saw a cabin nestling in the lee of a hill, with the
+blue smoke rising from its chimney into the clear, wintry air, and
+small and poor as they were they gave him a singular sense of peace and
+comfort. His mind felt for a few moments a strong reaction from war and
+its terrors, but the impulse and the strong purpose that bore him on
+soon came back.
+
+The train rushed through a pass and entered a sheltered valley a mile or
+two wide and eight or ten miles long. A large creek ran through it, and
+the train stopped at a village on its banks. The whole population of the
+village and all the farmers of the valley were there to meet them. It
+was a Union valley and by some system of mountain telegraphy, although
+there were no telegraph wires, news of the battle at the ford had
+preceded the train.
+
+“Come, lads,” said Colonel Newcomb to his staff. “Out with you! We're
+among friends here!”
+
+Dick and Warner were glad enough to leave the train. The air, cold as it
+was, was like the breath of heaven on their faces, and the cheers of
+the people were like the trump of fame in their ears. Pretty girls with
+their faces in red hoods or red comforters were there with food and
+smoking coffee. Medicines for the wounded, as much as the village could
+supply, had been brought to the train, and places were already made for
+those hurt too badly to go on with the expedition.
+
+The whole cheerful scene, with its life and movement, the sight of new
+faces and the sound of many voices, had a wonderful effect upon young
+Dick Mason. He had a marvellously sensitive temperament, a direct
+inheritance from his famous border ancestor, Paul Cotter. Things were
+always vivid to him. Either they glowed with color, or they were hueless
+and dead. This morning the long strain of the night and its battle was
+relaxed completely. The grass in the valley was brown with frost, and
+the trees were shorn of their leaves by the winter winds, but to Dick
+it was the finest village that he had ever seen, and these were the
+friendliest people in the world.
+
+He drank a cup of hot coffee handed to him by the stalwart wife of a
+farmer, 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 however
+we may fight you'll never find anybody attacking a breakfast with more
+valor 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 to
+see '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 wires
+had been cut behind them, but ten miles across the mountains the spur of
+another railroad touched a valley. The second railroad looped toward
+the north, and it was absolutely sure that it was beyond the reach
+of Southern raiders. Colonel Newcomb wished to send a message to the
+Secretary of War and the President, telling of the night's events and
+his triumphant passage through the ordeal. These circumstances might
+make them wish to change his orders, and at any rate the commander of
+the 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 already
+written my dispatches, and I put them in your care. Have them sent at
+once, and if necessary wait four hours for an answer. If it comes, ride
+back 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 the
+colonel's confidence. He wasted no time in words, but went at once to
+Sergeant Whitley, who was ready in five minutes. Warner, who heard of
+the mission, was disappointed because he was not going too. But he was
+philosophical.
+
+“I've made a close calculation,” he said, “and I have demonstrated to
+my own satisfaction that our opportunities are sixty per cent energy and
+ability, twenty per cent manners, and twenty per cent chance. In this
+case chance, which made the Colonel better acquainted with you than
+with 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 the
+mountains, 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 the
+little square of the village, where the troops were encamped for the
+present. Dick sprang upon a horse which Bill Petty was holding for him.
+Whitley was already up, and the three rode swiftly toward a blue line
+which marked a cleft between two ridges. Dick first observed their
+guide. Bill Petty was a short but very stout man, clad in a suit of
+home-made blue jeans, the trousers of which were thrust into high
+boots with red tops. A heavy shawl of dark red was wrapped around his
+shoulders, and beneath his broad-brimmed hat a red woolen comforter
+covered his ears, cheeks, and chin. His thick hair and a thick beard
+clothing his entire face were a flaming red. The whole effect of the man
+was somewhat startling, but when he saw Dick looking at him in curiosity
+his 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 see
+I always dress to suit my complexion. Guess I'll warm up the road some
+on a winter day like this.”
+
+“Would you mind my callin' you Red Blaze?” asked Sergeant Whitley
+gravely.
+
+“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' to
+their qualities. People 'round here are pretty plain, an' they've never
+called me nothin' but Bill. Red Blaze she is.”
+
+“An' Blaze for short. Well, then, Blaze, what kind of a road is that
+we're goin' to ride on?”
+
+“Depends on the kind of weather in which you ask the question. As it's
+the fust edge of winter here in the mountains, though it ain't quite
+come in the lowlands, an' as it's rained a lot in the last week, I
+reckon you'll find it bad. Mebbe our hosses will go down in the road
+to thar knees, but I guess they won't sink up to thar bodies. They may
+stumble an' throw us, but as we'll hit in soft mud it ain't likely to
+hurt us. It may rain hard, 'cause I see clouds heapin' up thar in the
+west. An' if it rains the cold may then freeze a skim of ice over the
+road, on which we could slip an' break our necks, hosses an' all. Then
+thar are some cliffs close to the road. If we was to slip on that thar
+skim of ice which we've reckoned might come, then mebbe we'd go over one
+of them cliffs and drop down a hundred feet or so right swift. If it was
+soft mud down below we might not get hurt mortal. But it ain't soft
+mud. We'd hit right in the middle of sharp, hard rocks. An' if a gang
+of 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 the
+ridges 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 they
+come an' talk to me to get cheered up. I always lay the worst before you
+first an' then shove it out of the way. None of them things that I was
+conjurin' up is goin' to happen. I was just tellin' you of the things
+you was goin' to escape, and now you'll feel good, knowin' what dangers
+you have passed before they happened.”
+
+Dick laughed. He liked this intensely red man with his round face and
+twinkling eyes. He saw, too, that the mountaineer was a fine horseman,
+and as he carried a long slender-barreled rifle over his shoulder, while
+a double-barreled pistol was thrust in his belt, it was likely that he
+would prove a formidable enemy to any who sought to stop him.
+
+“Perhaps your way is wise,” said the boy. “You begin with the bad
+and end with the good. What is the name of this place to which we are
+going?”
+
+“Hubbard. There was a pioneer who fit the Injuns in here in early
+times. I never heard that he got much, 'cept a town named after him. But
+Hubbard is a right peart little place, with a bank, two stores, three
+churches, 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 below
+his knees and which also had a high collar protecting his ears. He
+was provided also with heavy buckskin gloves. The sergeant was clad
+similarly.
+
+“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're
+goin' is at least fifteen hundred feet above Townsville--that's our
+village--an' I reckon it's just 'bout as high over Hubbard. Them fifteen
+hundred feet make a pow'ful difference in climate, as you'll soon find
+out. It's not only colder thar, but the winds are always blowin' hard
+through the pass. Jest look back at Townsville. Ain't she fine an' neat
+down thar in the valley, beside that clear creek which higher up in the
+mountains is full of the juiciest an' sweetest trout that man ever stuck
+a tooth into.”
+
+Dick saw that Petty was talkative, but he did not mind. In fact, both
+he and Whitley liked the man's joyous and unbroken run of chatter. He
+turned in his saddle and looked back, following the stout man's pointing
+finger. Townsville, though but a little mountain town built mainly of
+logs, was indeed a jewel, softened and with a silver sheen thrown over
+it by the mountain air which was misty that morning. He dimly saw the
+long black line of the train standing on the track, and here and there
+warm rings of smoke rose from the chimneys and floated up into the
+heavens, where they were lost.
+
+He thought he could detect little figures moving beside the train and
+he knew that they must be those of his comrades. He felt for a moment
+a sense of loneliness. He had not known these lads long, but the battle
+had bound them firmly together. They had been comrades in danger and
+that 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 fifty
+miles in every direction, north, south, east, an' west, an' I ain't
+never seed its match. I reckon I'm somethin' of a traveler, but every
+time I come back to Townsville, I think all the more of it, seein' how
+much better it is than anything else.”
+
+Dick glanced at the mountaineer, and saw that there could be no doubt of
+his sincerity.
+
+“You're a lucky man, Mr. Petty,” he said, “to live in the finest place
+in 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 the
+mountain. Petty laughed. He was the finest laugher that Dick had ever
+heard. The laugh did not merely come from the mouth, it was also exuded,
+pouring out through every pore. It was rolling, unctuous, and so strong
+that 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 and
+throat, 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' wilder
+now 'till we start down the slope on the other side. Lucky our hosses
+are 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, and
+the going was painful. Under Petty's instructions they stopped their
+mounts now and then for a rest, and a mile further on they began to feel
+a rising wind.
+
+“It's the wind that I told you of,” said Petty. “It's sucked through six
+or seven miles of pass, an' it will blow straight in our faces all the
+way. 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 cold
+winds 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 the
+sergeant. Whitley, from his long experience on the plains, had the
+keenest kind of an eye for climatic changes. He noticed with some
+apprehension that the higher peaks were clothed in thick, cold fog, but
+he 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 for
+the buckskin gloves, without which their hands would have stiffened on
+the reins.
+
+Now they rode in silence with their heads bent well forward, because
+the wind was becoming fiercer and fiercer. Over the peaks the fogs were
+growing thicker and darker and after a while the sharp edge of the wind
+was wet with rain. It stung their faces, and they drew their hat brims
+lower and their coat collars higher to protect themselves from such a
+cutting blast.
+
+“Told you we might have trouble,” called Petty, cheerfully, “but if
+you ride right on through trouble you'll leave trouble behind. Nor this
+ain't nothin' either to what we kin expect before we git to the top of
+the pass. Cur'us what a pow'ful lot human bein's kin stand when they
+make 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 started
+that you had been a soldier in the west. I s'pose that you had to look
+mighty 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 or
+Blackfeet was after him.”
+
+“No, you couldn't,” replied the sergeant. “Out there you had to watch
+every 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 be
+of 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. We
+rise a lot more before we hit the top.”
+
+The wind grew stronger with every rod they ascended, and the horses
+began to pant with their severe exertions. At Petty's suggestion the
+three riders dismounted and walked for a while, leading their horses.
+The rain turned to a fine hail and stung their faces. Had it not
+been for his two good comrades Dick would have found his situation
+inexpressibly lonely and dreary. The heavy fog now enveloped all the
+peaks and ridges and filled every valley and chasm. He could see only
+fifteen or twenty yards ahead along the muddy path, and the fine hail
+which gave every promise of becoming a storm of sleet stung continually.
+The wind confined in the narrow gorge also uttered a hideous shrieking
+and moaning.
+
+“Tests your nerve!” shouted Petty to Dick. “There are hard things
+besides 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 the
+same kind all right, too. Likely the sleet will be so thick that it will
+make a sheet of slippery ice for us comin' back. Now, hosses that ain't
+got calks on thar shoes are pretty shore to slip an' fall, breakin' a
+leg or two, an' mebbe breakin' the necks of thar riders.”
+
+Dick looked at him with some amazement. Despite his announcement of dire
+disaster the man's eyes twinkled merrily and the round, red outline of
+his bushy head in the scarlet comforter made a cheerful blaze.
+
+“It's jest as I told you,” said Petty, meeting the boy's look. “Without
+calks on thar shoes our hosses are pretty shore to slip on the ice
+and break theirselves up, or fall down a cliff an' break themselves up
+more.”
+
+“Then why in thunder, Blaze,” exclaimed Whitley, “did we start without
+calks on the shoes of our horses?”
+
+Red Blaze broke into a deep mellow laugh, starting from the bottom of
+his diaphragm, swelling as it passed through his chest, swelling again
+as it passed through throat and mouth, and bursting upon the open air in
+a mighty diapason that rose cheerfully above the shrieking and moaning
+of the wind.
+
+“We didn't start without em,” he replied. “The twelve feet of these
+three hosses have on 'em the finest calked shoes in all these mountains.
+I put 'em on myself, beginnin' the job this mornin' before you was
+awake, your colonel, on the advice of the people of Townsville who know
+me as one of its leadin' an' trusted citizens, havin' selected me as the
+guide of this trip. I was jest tellin' you what would happen to you if I
+didn't justify the confidence of the people of Townsville.”
+
+“I allow, Red Blaze,” said the sergeant with confidence, “that you ain't
+no 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 whistling
+of the wind.
+
+“You kin ride ag'in now, boys,” he said. “The hosses are pretty well
+rested.”
+
+They resumed the saddle gladly and now mounted toward the crest of the
+pass. The sleet turned to snow, which was a relief to their faces,
+and Dick, with the constant beating of wind and snow, began to feel
+a certain physical exhilaration. He realized the truth of Red Blaze's
+assertion that if you stiffen your back and push your way through
+troubles you leave troubles behind.
+
+They rode now in silence for quite a while, and then Red Blaze suddenly
+announced:
+
+“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 very
+crest of the pass. The fierce wind out of the northwest blew directly in
+their faces and both riders and horses alike were covered with snow. But
+Dick 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 lofty
+peaks and ridges showing through it, white themselves. The towns below
+and the cabins that snuggled in the coves were completely hidden. They
+could 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 will
+suit 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 like
+to have our arms an' our big coats. I tell you what, friends, a mighty
+civil war like ours gives a tremenjeous opportunity to bad men.
+They're all comin' to the top. Every rascal in the mountains an' in the
+lowlands, too, I guess, is out lookin' for plunder an' wuss.”
+
+“You're right, Red Blaze,” said the sergeant with emphasis, “an' it
+won'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 with
+a hundred thousand men will be out lookin' for what? Not for a gang
+of robbers, not by a jugful. He'll be lookin' for a rebel general with
+another hundred thousand men, an' the rebel general with a hundred
+thousand men will be lookin' for that Yankee general with his hundred
+thousand. 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 jest
+tellin' you what might happen, but wouldn't happen. We kin go down hill
+fast now, and we'll soon be in Hubbard, which is the other side of all
+that fallin' snow.”
+
+The road down the mountain was also better than the one by which they
+had ascended, and as the horses with their calked shoes were swift of
+foot they made rapid progress. As they descended, the wind lowered fast
+and there was much less snow. Red Blaze said it was probably not snowing
+in the valley at all.
+
+“See that shinin' in the sun,” he said. “That's the tin coverin' on the
+steeple 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 we
+turn 'roun' this big rock. Yes, thar's Hubbard, layin' out in the valley
+without a drop of snow on her. It looks good, don't it, friends, with
+the smoke comin' out of the chimneys. That little red house over thar is
+the railroad an' telegraph station, an' we'll go straight for it, 'cause
+we ain't got no time to waste.”
+
+They emerged into the valley and rode rapidly for the station. Farmers
+on the outskirts and villagers looked wonderingly at them, but they did
+not pause to answer questions. They galloped their tired mounts straight
+for the little red building, which was the station. Dick sprang first
+from his horse, and leaving it to stand at the door, ran inside. A
+telegraph instrument was clicking mournfully in the corner. A hot stove
+was in another corner, and sitting near it was a lad of about Dick's
+age, 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 of
+eye. He promptly drew out his papers and said:
+
+“I'm an aide from the Northern regiment of Colonel Newcomb at
+Townsville. Here are duplicate dispatches, one set for the President of
+the United States and the other for the Secretary of War. They tell of a
+successful fight that we had last night with Southern troops, presumably
+the cavalrymen of Turner Ashby. I wish you to send them at once.”
+
+“He's speakin' the exact truth, Jim,” said Red Blaze, who had come
+in behind Dick, “an' I've brought him an' the sergeant here over the
+mountains to tell about it.”
+
+The boy sprang to his instrument. But he stopped a moment to ask one
+question.
+
+“Did you really beat 'em off?” he asked as he looked up with shining
+eye.
+
+“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 by
+the 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 slipped
+away unnoticed. But he came back very soon, and men and women came with
+him, bringing food and smoking coffee. There was enough for twenty.
+
+Red Blaze had spread among the villagers, every one of whom he knew, the
+news that the Union arms had won a victory. Nor had it suffered anything
+in the telling. Colonel Newcomb's regiment, by the most desperate feats
+of gallantry, had beaten off at least ten thousand Southerners, and the
+boy 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 the
+stove. Dick himself, warm, relaxed, and the needs of his body satisfied,
+felt like going to sleep. But he watched the boy operator, who presently
+finished his two dispatches and then lifted his head for the first time.
+
+“They've gone straight into Washington,” he said. “We ought to get an
+answer soon.”
+
+“We'll wait here for it,” said Dick.
+
+The three messengers were now thoroughly warmed at the stove, they
+had eaten heartily of the best the village could furnish, and a great
+feeling of comfort pervaded them. While they were waiting for the reply
+that they hoped would come from Washington, Dick Mason and Sergeant
+Whitley went outside. No snow was falling in the valley, but off on the
+mountain crest they still saw the white veil, blown by the wind.
+
+Red Blaze joined them and was everywhere their guide and herald. He
+ascribed to them such deeds of skill and valor that they were compelled
+to call him the best romancer they had met in a long time.
+
+“I suppose that if Mr. Warner were here,” said the sergeant, “he would
+reduce these statements to mathematics, ten per cent fact an' ninety per
+cent 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 come
+in, 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 face
+covered with black beard. They've been liftin' hosses an' takin' other
+things, but they're strangers in these parts. Tom Sykes, who was held up
+by them an' robbed of his hoss, says that the rest of 'em called their
+leader Skelly. Tom seemed to think that mebbe they came from somewhere
+in the Kentucky mountains. They called themselves a scoutin' party of
+the Southern army.”
+
+Dick started violently.
+
+“Why, I know this man Skelly,” he said. “He lives in the mountains
+to the eastward of my home in Kentucky. He organized a band at the
+beginning of the war, but over there he said he was fightin' for the
+North.”
+
+“He'll be fightin' for his own hand,” said the sergeant sternly. “But he
+can't play double all the time. That sort of thing will bring a man to
+the end of a rope, with clear air under his feet.”
+
+“I'm glad you've told me this,” said Red Blaze. “Skelly might have come
+ridin' 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'll
+warn 'em. Thar ain't a house here that hasn't got two or three rifles
+an' shotguns in it, an' with the farmers from the valley joinin' in
+Hubbard could wipe out the whole gang.”
+
+“Tell them to be on guard all the time, Red Blaze,” said Whitley with
+strong emphasis. “In war you've got to watch, watch, watch. Always know
+what the other fellow is doin', if you can.”
+
+“Let's go back to the station,” said Dick. “Maybe we'll have an answer
+soon.”
+
+They found the young operator hanging over his instrument, his eyes
+still shining. He had been in that position ever since they left him,
+and Dick knew that his eagerness to get an answer from Washington kept
+him there, mind and body waiting for the tick of the key.
+
+Dick, the sergeant, and Red Blaze sat down by the stove again, and
+rested there quietly for a quarter of an hour. Red Blaze was thinking
+that it would be another cold ride back over the pass. The sergeant,
+although he was not sleepy, closed his eyes and saw again the vast
+rolling plains, the herds of buffalo spreading to the horizon, and the
+bands of Sioux and Cheyennes galloping down, their great war bonnets
+making splashes of color against the thin blue sky. Dick was thinking of
+Pendleton, the peaceful little town in Kentucky that was his home, and
+of his cousin, Harry Kenton. He did not know now where Harry was, and he
+did not even know whether he was dead or alive.
+
+Dick sighed a little, and just at that moment the telegraph key began to
+click.
+
+“The answer is coming!” exclaimed the young operator excitedly and then
+he bent closer over the key to take it. The three chairs straightened
+up, and they, too, bent toward the key. The boy wrote rapidly, but the
+clicking did not go on long. When it ceased he straightened up with his
+finished message in his hand. His face was flushed and his eyes still
+shining. 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 continue
+westward to original destination.
+
+                                        A. LINCOLN.”
+
+
+Dick's face glowed, and the sergeant's teeth came together with a little
+click of satisfaction.
+
+“When I saw that it was to be read to the regiment I thought it no harm
+to read it to the rest of you,” said Dick, as he refolded the precious
+dispatch and put it in his safest pocket. “Now, sergeant, I think we
+ought 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 farewell
+to the young operator, then to almost all of Hubbard and proceeded in
+a trot for the pass. They did not speak until they were on the first
+slope, and then the sergeant, looking up at the heights, asked:
+
+“Shall we have snow again on our return, Red Blaze? I hope not. It's
+important 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 have
+more snow. See them clouds, sailin' up an' always sailin' up from the
+southwest, an' see that white mist 'roun' the highest peaks. That's
+snow, an' it'll hit the pass just as it did when we was comin' over. But
+we've got this in favor of ourselves an' our hosses now: The wind is on
+our backs.”
+
+They rode hard now. Dick had received the precious message from the
+President, and it would be a proud moment for him when he put it in the
+hands of the colonel. He did not wish that moment to be delayed. Several
+times he patted the pocket in which the paper lay.
+
+As they ascended, the wind increased in strength, but being on their
+backs now it seemed to help them along. They were soon high up on the
+slopes and then they naturally turned for a parting look at Hubbard in
+its valley, a twin to that of Townsville. It looked from afar neat and
+given up to peace, but Dick knew that it had been stirred deeply by the
+visit of his comrades and himself.
+
+“It seems,” he said, “that the war would pass by these little mountain
+nests.”
+
+“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 fairly
+lifts us up the mountain side.”
+
+Petty had all the easy familiarity of the backwoods. He treated the boy
+and man who rode with him as comrades of at least a year's standing, and
+they felt in return that he was one of them, a man to be trusted. They
+retained all the buoyancy which the receipt of the dispatch had given
+them, 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 he
+added 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. It
+comes into the main road, two or three hundred yards further on, an' I
+think I can see the top of a horseman's head ridin' in it. What do you
+say, sergeant?”
+
+“I say that you are right, Red Blaze. I plainly see the head of a big
+man, wearing a fur cap, an' there are others behind him, ridin' in
+single file. What's your opinion, Mr. Mason?”
+
+“The same as yours and Red Blaze's. I, too, can see the big man with the
+fur cap on his head and at least a dozen following behind. Do you think
+it likely, Red Blaze, that they'll reach the main road before we pass
+the mouth of the path?”
+
+A sudden thought had leaped up in Dick's mind and it set his pulses to
+beating 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're
+travelin' 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 Bill
+Skelly. He and his men made an attack upon the home of my uncle, Colonel
+Kenton, who is a Southern leader in Kentucky. He and his band were
+Northerners there, but they will be Southerners here, if it suits their
+purpose.”
+
+“An' it will shorely suit their purpose to be Southerners now,” said Red
+Blaze. “We three are ridin' mighty good hoss flesh. Me an' the sergeant
+have good rifles an' pistols, you have good pistols, an' we all have
+good, big overcoats. This is a lonely mountain side with war flyin' all
+about 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 across
+the pommel of his saddle. “They've got to follow straight behind. The
+ground is too rough for them to ride around an' flank us.”
+
+Dick said nothing, but his gauntleted hand moved down to the butt of one
+of his pistols. His heart throbbed, but he preserved the appearance of
+coolness. He was fast becoming inured to danger. Owing to the slope
+they could not increase the speed of their horses greatly, but they were
+beyond the mouth of the path before they were seen by Skelly and his
+band. Then the big mountaineer uttered a great shout and began to wave
+his hand at them.
+
+“The road curves here a little among the rocks,” said the sergeant, who
+unconsciously 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 saw
+Skelly and a score of men emerge into the road and come rapidly toward
+them. 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 straight
+at Skelly's heart.
+
+“Halt!” he cried sharply, “and tell me who you are!”
+
+The whole crew seemed to reel back except Skelly, who, though stopping
+his horse, remained in the center of the road.
+
+“What do you mean?” he cried. “We're peaceful travelers. What business
+is it of yours who we are?”
+
+“Judgin' by your looks you're not peaceful travelers at all. Besides
+these 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 to
+one 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 the
+war, and I know that you tried to burn down the house of Colonel Kenton
+there, and kill him and his friends. I'm on the other side, but I'm not
+for such things as that.”
+
+Skelly distinctly saw Dick sitting on his horse in the pass, and he knew
+him 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. He
+hated him, too, because he belonged to those who had more of prosperity
+and education than himself. But Skelly was a man of resource and not a
+coward.
+
+“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're
+twenty 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 held
+the rifle aimed at his heart had nerves of steel, and he did not dare
+advance knowing that he would be shot at once from the saddle. A victory
+won 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. But
+the three knew well that it was no withdrawal. The mountaineers rode
+among some scrub that grew between the road and the cliff; and Whitley
+exclaimed to his two comrades:
+
+“Come boys, we must ride for it! It's our business to get back with the
+dispatches to Colonel Newcomb as soon as possible, an' not let ourselves
+be delayed by this gang.”
+
+“That is certainly true,” said Dick. “Lead on, Mr. Petty, and we'll
+cross the mountain as fast as we can.”
+
+Red Blaze started at once in a gallop, and Dick and the sergeant
+followed swiftly after. But Sergeant Whitley held his cocked rifle in
+hand and he cast many backward glances. A great shout came from Skelly
+and his band when they saw the three take to flight, and the sergeant's
+face grew grimmer as the sound reached his ears.
+
+“Keep right in the middle of the road, boys,” he said. “We can't afford
+to have our horses slip. I'll hang back just a little and send in a
+bullet 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, but
+it hurts my feelin's if anybody shoots at me. Them fellers are likely
+to do it, an' me havin' a rifle in my hands I won't be able to stop the
+temptation to fire back.”
+
+As he spoke the raiders fired. There was a crackling of rifles, little
+curls of blue smoke rose in the pass, and bullets struck on the frozen
+earth, 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 average
+army weapon, and pulled the trigger. He had aimed at Skelly, but the
+leader 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 range
+of that deadly rifle, continued to come.
+
+The pursuit at first seemed futile to Dick, because they would soon
+descend into Townsville's valley, and the raiders could not follow them
+into 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 on
+either side of the road thickly covered with forest. The branches of the
+trees were bare, but the undergrowth was so dense that horsemen could be
+hidden in it. Bands of the raiders darted into the woods both to right
+and left, and he knew that advancing on a straight line one or the
+other of the parties expected to catch the fugitives who must follow the
+curves of the road.
+
+The advantage of the pursuit was soon shown as a shot from the right
+whistled by them. Red Blaze, quick as lightning, fired at the flash of
+the rifle.
+
+“I don't know whether I hit him or not,” he said, judicially, “but the
+chances are pow'ful good that I did. Still it looks as if they meant to
+hang 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 have
+us 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 how
+dark it's gettin' up here on the heights an' how hard it's snowin'. It's
+comin' 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 that
+all 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 as
+far as fifty miles from Townsville, and I know all the country in every
+direction, twenty miles from it, inch by inch. Inside five minutes the
+snowstorm will be on us full blast, an' we won't be able to see more'n
+twenty yards away. An' that crowd that's follerin' won't be able to see
+either. An' me knowin' the ground inch by inch I'll take you straight
+back 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 they
+kept close together. They heard once a shout behind them and saw the
+flash of a firearm in the white hurricane, but no bullet struck them,
+and they kept steadily on their course, Red Blaze directing with the
+sure instinct that comes of long use and habit.
+
+Heavier and heavier grew the snow. There was but little wind now, and it
+came straight down. It seemed to Dick that the whole earth was
+blotted out by the white fall. He and the sergeant resigned themselves
+completely to the guidance of Red Blaze, who never veered an inch from
+the right path.
+
+“If I didn't know the way my hoss would,” he said. “I'd just give him
+his 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 pretty
+smart of me, wasn't it, to order a snowstorm an' have it come just when
+it 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 at
+great speed, but they did the best they could, and, as Red Blaze said,
+their best, although it might be somewhat slow, was certainly better
+than that of Skelly and his men. Dick believed in fact that the raiders
+had been compelled to abandon the pursuit.
+
+When they reached a lower level, where the snow was far less dense, they
+stopped and listened. The sergeant's ears had been trained to uncommon
+keenness by his life on the plains, and he could hear nothing but the
+sigh of the falling snow. Nor could Petty, who had fine ears himself.
+
+They descended still further, and made another stop. It was snowing here
+also, but it was merely an ordinary fall, and they could get a long view
+back up the pass. They saw nothing there but earth and trees covered
+with snow. Looking in the other direction they saw the sunshine gleaming
+for a moment on a roof in Townsville.
+
+“We're all safe now,” said Red Blaze, “an' we'll be with the soldiers in
+another half hour. But just you two remember that mebbe the next time I
+couldn't call up a snowstorm to cover us an' save our lives.”
+
+“Once is enough,” said Dick, “and, Mr. Petty, Sergeant Whitley and I
+want 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. There
+was the long train standing on the track, the smoke rising in spires
+from the neat houses, and then the figures of human beings.
+
+The fall of snow was light in the valley and as soon as they reached
+the levels the three proceeded at a gallop. Dick saw Colonel Newcomb
+standing by the train, and springing from his horse he handed him the
+dispatch. The colonel opened it, and as he read Dick saw the glow appear
+upon his face.
+
+“Fire up!” he said to Canby, the engineer, who stood near. “We start at
+once!”
+
+The troops who were ready and waiting were hurried into the coaches, and
+the 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 the
+powerful grip of Red Blaze, who with his own unconfined hand grasped the
+bridles of the three horses, which had served them so well. Petty had
+received a reward thrust upon him by Colonel Newcomb, but Dick knew
+that the mountaineer's chief recompense was the success achieved in the
+perilous 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's
+a heap, a tremenjeous heap, in knowin' the way. It gives you an awful
+advantage. Now you an' your regiment are goin' down thar in them
+Kentucky 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 with
+you, an' they don't know a thing 'bout that thar region. Like as not
+you'll be walkin' right straight into an ambush, an' that'll be the end
+of 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 keerless
+people, 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 friendly
+hand Dick went into the coach. It was the first in the train. Colonel
+Newcomb and Major Hertford sat near the head of it, and Warner was just
+sitting down not far behind them. Dick took the other half of the seat
+with 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 and
+help bring back with you the message of President Lincoln? But I heard
+what our red friend said to you at the car-step. There's a powerful lot
+in knowing the way, knowing where you're going, and what's along every
+inch of the road. My arithmetic tells me that it is often fifty per cent
+of marching and fighting.”
+
+“I think you are right,” said Dick.
+
+A little later he was sound asleep in his seat, and at the command of
+Colonel Newcomb he was not disturbed. His had been a task, taxing to the
+utmost both body and mind, and, despite his youth and strength, it would
+take nature some time to replace what had been worn away.
+
+He slept on while the boys in the train talked and laughed. Stern
+discipline was not yet enforced in either army, nor did Colonel Newcomb
+consider it necessary here. These lads, so lately from the schools
+and farms, had won a victory and they had received the thanks of the
+President. They had a right to talk about it among themselves and a
+little vocal enthusiasm now might build up courage and spirit for a
+greater crisis later.
+
+The colonel, moreover, gave glances of approval and sympathy to his
+gallant young aide, who in the seat next to the window with his head
+against the wall slept so soundly. All the afternoon Dick slept on, his
+breathing regular and steady. The train rattled and rumbled through the
+high mountains, and on the upper levels the snow was falling fast.
+
+Darkness came, and supper was served to the troops, but at the colonel's
+command Dick was not awakened. Nature had not yet finished her task of
+repairing. There was worn tissue still to be replaced, and the nerves
+had not yet recovered their full steadiness.
+
+So Dick slept on, while the night deepened and the snow continued to
+drive against the window panes. Nor did he awake until morning, when the
+train 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 from
+every cliff. Dispatches were waiting for Colonel Newcomb, and after
+breakfast he announced to his staff:
+
+“I have orders from Washington to divide my regiment. The Southern
+forces are operating at three points in Kentucky. They are gathering at
+Columbus on the Mississippi, at Bowling Green in the south, and here
+in the mountains there is a strong division under an officer named
+Zollicoffer. Scattered forces of our men, the principal one led by a
+Virginian named Thomas, are endeavoring to deal with Zollicoffer. The
+Secretary of War regrets the division of the regiment, but he thinks it
+necessary, as all our detached forces must be strengthened. I go on with
+the 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 search
+of Thomas, but be careful that you are not snapped up by the rebels on
+the way. And if you can get volunteers and join Thomas with your force
+increased threefold, so much the better.”
+
+“I shall try my best, sir,” said Major Hertford, “and thank you for this
+honor.”
+
+Dick and Warner stood by without a word, but Dick cast an appealing look
+at Colonel Newcomb.
+
+“Yes, I know,” said the Colonel, who caught the glance. “This is your
+state, and you wish to go with Major Hertford. You are to do so. So is
+your friend, Lieutenant Warner, and, Major Hertford, I also lend to you
+Sergeant Whitley, who is a man of much experience and who has already
+proved himself to be of great value.”
+
+The three saluted and were grateful. They longed for action, which they
+believed would come more quickly with Major Hertford's column. A little
+later, when military form permitted it, the two boys thanked Colonel
+Newcomb in words.
+
+“Maybe you won't thank me a few days from now,” said the colonel a
+little grimly, “but I am hopeful that our plans here in Eastern Kentucky
+will prove successful, and that before long you will be able to join the
+great forces in the western part of the state. You are both good boys
+and now, good-bye.”
+
+The preparations for the mountain column, as Dick and Warner soon called
+it, had been completed. They were on foot, but they were well armed,
+well clothed, and they had supplies loaded in several wagons, purchased
+hastily in the village. A dozen of the strong mountaineers volunteered
+to be drivers and guides, and the major was glad to have them. Later,
+several horses were secured for the officers, but, meanwhile, the train
+was ready to depart.
+
+Colonel Newcomb waved them farewell, the faithful and valiant Canby
+opened the throttle, and the train steamed away. The men in the little
+column, although eager for their new task, watched its departure with a
+certain sadness at parting with their comrades. The train became smaller
+and smaller, then it was only a spiral of smoke, and that, too, soon
+died on the clear western horizon.
+
+“And now to find Thomas!” said Major Hertford, who retained Dick and
+Warner on his staff, practically its only members, in fact. “It looks
+odd to hunt through the mountains for a general and his army, but we've
+got it to do, and we'll do it.”
+
+The horses for the officers were obtained at the suggestion of Sergeant
+Whitley, and the little column turned southward through the wintry
+forest. Dick and Warner were riding strong mountain ponies, but at
+times, and in order to show that they considered themselves no better
+than the others, they dismounted and walked over the frozen ground.
+The greatest tasks were with the wagons containing the ammunition and
+supplies. The mountain roads were little more than trails, sometimes
+half blocked with ice or snow and then again deep in mud. The winter
+was severe. Storms of rain, hail, sleet and snow poured upon them, but,
+fortunately, they were marching through continuous forests, and the
+skilled mountaineers, under any circumstances, knew how to build fires,
+by the side of which they could dry themselves, and sleep warmly at
+night.
+
+They also heard much gossip as they advanced to meet General Thomas,
+who had been sent from Louisville to command the Northern troops in the
+Kentucky mountains. Thomas was a Virginian, a member of the old regular
+army, a valiant, able, and cautious man, who chose to abide by the
+Union. Many other Virginians, some destined to be as famous as he, and
+a few more so, wondered why he had not gone with his seceding state, and
+criticised 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 of
+one of his own Kentucky Crittendens. Here he saw again how terribly
+his beloved state was divided, like other border states. General
+Crittenden'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. But
+he was to see such cases over and over again, and he was to see them to
+a still greater and a wholesale degree, when the First Maryland regiment
+of the North and the First Maryland regiment of the South, recruited
+from the same district, should meet face to face upon the terrible field
+of Antietam.
+
+But Antietam was far in the future, and Dick's mind turned from the
+cases of brother against brother to the problems of the icy wilderness
+through which they were moving, in a more or less uncertain manner.
+Sometimes they were sent on false trails, but their loyal mountaineers
+brought them back again. They also found volunteers, and Major
+Hertford's little force swelled from three hundred to six hundred. In
+the main, the mountaineers were sympathetic, partly through devotion
+to the Union, and partly through jealousy of the more prosperous
+lowlanders.
+
+One day Major Hertford sent Dick, Warner, and Sergeant Whitley, ahead
+to scout. He had recognized the ability of the two lads, and also their
+great friendship for Sergeant Whitley. It seemed fitting to him that
+the three should be nearly always together, and he watched them with
+confidence, as they rode ahead on the icy mountain trail and then
+disappeared from sight.
+
+Dick and his friends had learned, at mountain cabins which they had
+passed, that the country opened out further on into a fine little
+valley, and when they reached the crest of a hill somewhat higher than
+the others, they verified the truth of the statement. Before them lay
+the coziest nook they had yet seen in the mountains, and in the center
+of it rose a warm curl of smoke from the chimney of a house, much
+superior to that of the average mountaineer. The meadows and corn lands
+on either side of a noble creek were enclosed in good fences. Everything
+was trim and neat.
+
+The three rode down the slope toward the house, but halfway to the
+bottom they reined in their ponies and listened. Some one was singing.
+On the thin wintry air a deep mellow voice rose and they distinctly
+heard 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, all
+the more wonderful because they heard it there in those lone mountains.
+The ridges took up the echo, and gave it back in tones softened but
+exquisitely haunting.
+
+The three paused and looked at one another. They could not see the
+singer. 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 least
+no common heart, could infuse such feeling into music. As they listened
+the remainder of the pathetic old air rose and swelled through the
+ridges:
+
+  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 once
+in Boston, just before I started to the war, but I never heard anything
+that sounds finer than this. Maybe time and place help to the extent of
+fifty 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. There
+they drew rein, as they saw near them a tall man, apparently about
+forty years of age, mending a fence, helped by a boy of heavy build and
+powerful arms. The man glanced up, saw the blue uniforms worn by the
+three horsemen, and went peacefully on with his fence-mending. He also
+continued to sing, throwing his soul into the song, and both work and
+song proceeded as if no one was near.
+
+He lifted the rails into place with mighty arms, but never ceased to
+sing. The boy who helped him seemed almost his equal in strength, but he
+neither sang nor spoke. Yet he smiled most of the time, showing rows of
+exceedingly strong, white teeth.
+
+“They seem to me to be of rather superior type,” said Dick. “Maybe we
+can get useful information from them.”
+
+“I judge that the singer will talk about almost everything except what
+we want to know,” said the shrewd and experienced sergeant, “but we can
+certainly do no harm by speaking to him. Of course they have seen us. No
+doubt 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 stood
+expectant.
+
+“We belong to a detachment which is marching southward to join the Union
+army under General Thomas,” said Dick. “Perhaps you could tell us the
+best road.”
+
+“I might an' ag'in I mightn't, stranger. If you don't talk much you
+never have much to take back. If I knew where that army is it would
+be easy for me to tell you, but if I didn't know I couldn't. Now, the
+question is, do I know or don't I know? Do you think you can decide it
+for me stranger?”
+
+It was impossible for Dick or the sergeant to take offense. The man's
+gaze was perfectly frank and open and his eyes twinkled as he spoke.
+The boy with him smiled widely, showing both rows of his powerful white
+teeth.
+
+“We can't decide it until we know you better,” said Dick in a light
+tone.
+
+“I'm willin' to tell you who I am. My name is Sam Jarvis, an' this
+lunkhead here is my nephew, Ike Simmons, the son of my sister, who keeps
+my house. Now I want to tell you, young stranger, that since this war
+began and the Yankees and the Johnnies have taken a notion to shoot up
+one 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't
+do it! You never saw or heard of me before.”
+
+“Mebbe no,” replied Jarvis, with calm confidence, “but all the same
+your name is Dick Mason, and you come from a town in Kentucky called
+Pendleton. You've been serving with the Yanks in the East, an' you've a
+cousin, named Harry Kenton, who's been servin' there also, but with the
+Johnnies. 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 you
+said 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 anxious
+about him ever since I heard of that terrible fight.”
+
+“He was not. I have not seen him since, but I have definite news now
+that 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 me
+that you're on different sides, bein' as I ain't on any side at all
+myself, 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' your
+pardners look cold an' hungry. There ain't danger of anybody taking your
+hosses, 'cause you can hitch 'em right at the front door. Besides, I've
+got 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 seemed
+singularly 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, mellow
+voice always came back in faint and dying echoes that moved him in
+a singular manner. All at once the war with its passions and carnage
+floated away. Here was a little valley fenced in from the battle-world
+in which he had been living. He breathed deeply and as the eyes of
+Jarvis caught his a sympathetic glance passed between them.
+
+“Yes,” said Jarvis, as if he understood completely, “the war goes around
+us. 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 my
+grandmother.”
+
+He paused before the bent figure of an old, old woman, sitting in a
+rocking 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 the
+great Henry Ware that you used to know was here last spring, and now the
+great-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 own
+face. A gentle man he was, but brave, and the greatest scholar. I should
+have 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 you
+both.”
+
+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 of
+man, 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 the
+mouth and the nose are the same. This house is yours while you choose
+to remain, and my grandchildren and my great-grandson will do for you
+whatever you wish.”
+
+Dick noticed that her grammar and intonation were perfect. Many of the
+Virginians and Marylanders who emigrated to Kentucky in that far-off
+border time were people of cultivation and refinement.
+
+After these words of welcome she turned from him, sat down in her chair
+and gazed steadily into the coals. Everything about her seemed to float
+away. Doubtless her thoughts ran on those dim early days, when the
+Indians lurked in the canebrake and only the great borderers stood
+between the settlers and sure death.
+
+Dick began to gather from the old woman's words a dim idea of what had
+occurred. Harry Kenton must have passed there, and as they went into
+the next room where food and coffee were placed before them, Jarvis
+explained.
+
+“Your cousin, Harry Kenton, came through here last spring on his way to
+Virginia,” he said. “He came with me an' this lunkhead, Ike, all the
+way from Frankfort and mostly up the Kentucky River. Grandmother was
+dreaming and she took him at first for Henry Ware, his very self. She
+saluted him and called him the great governor. It was a wonderful thing
+to see, and it made me feel just a little bit creepy for a second or
+two. Mebbe you an' your cousin, Harry Kenton, are Henry Ware an' Paul
+Cotter, their very selves come back to earth. It looks curious that both
+of you should wander to this little place hid deep in the mountains. But
+it's happened all the same. I s'pose you've just been moved 'round that
+way by the Supreme Power that's bigger than all of us, an' that shifts
+us 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 winter
+air on the mountains is powerful nippin' an' your blood needs warmin'
+often.”
+
+The boys and the sergeant obeyed him literally and with energy. Jarvis
+sat by approvingly, taking an occasional bite or drink with them.
+Meanwhile they gathered valuable information from him. A Northern
+commander named Garfield had defeated the Southern forces under Humphrey
+Marshall in a smart little battle at a place called Middle Creek. Dick
+knew this Humphrey Marshall well. He lived at Louisville and was a great
+friend of his uncle, Colonel Kenton. He had been a brilliant and daring
+cavalry officer in the Mexican War, doing great deeds at Buena
+Vista, but now he was elderly and so enormously stout that he lacked
+efficiency.
+
+Jarvis added that after their defeat at Middle Creek the Southerners had
+gathered their forces on or near the Cumberland River about Mill Spring
+and 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 deep
+in the mountains, preparing to meet him.
+
+“Remember,” said Jarvis, “that I ain't takin' no sides in this war
+myself. 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' I
+wish the same to your cousin, Mr. Kenton.”
+
+Dick, Warner and the sergeant finished the refreshments and rose for
+the return journey. They thanked Jarvis, and when they saw that he would
+take 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 her
+hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes.
+
+“Paul Cotter was a good man,” she said, “and you who have his blood in
+your veins are good, too. I can see it in something that lies back in
+your eyes.”
+
+She said not another word, but sat down in the chair and stared once
+more into the coals, dreaming of the far day when the great borderers
+saved her and others like her from the savages, and thinking little of
+the mighty war that raged at the base of her hills.
+
+The boys and the sergeant rode fast on the return trail. They knew that
+Major Hertford would push forward at all speed to join Thomas, whom they
+could now locate without much difficulty. Jarvis and Ike had resumed
+their fence-mending, but when the trees hid the valley from them a
+mighty, 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 nephew
+Ike of his that he calls a lunkhead. Did you notice, Mr. Mason, that the
+boy never spoke a word while we was there? Them that don't say anything
+never have anything to take back.”
+
+They rode hard now, and soon reached Major Hertford with their news. On
+the third day thereafter they entered a strong Union camp, commanded
+by a man named Garfield, the young officer who had won the victory at
+Middle Creek.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. MILL SPRING
+
+
+Garfield's camp was on a little group of hills in a very strong
+position, and his men, flushed with victory, were eager for another
+encounter with the enemy. They had plenty of good tents to fend them
+from the winter weather which had often been bitter. Throughout the camp
+burned large fires for which they had an almost unbroken wilderness to
+furnish fuel. The whole aspect of the place was pleasing to the men who
+had 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, writing
+dispatches at a rude little pine table, rose to receive them. He did not
+seem to Dick to be more than thirty, and he had the thin, scholarly face
+of a student. His manner was attractive, he shook hands warmly with all
+three of them and said:
+
+“Reinforcements are most welcome indeed. My own work here seems to be
+largely done, but you will reach General Thomas in another day, and he
+needs you. Take my chair, Major Hertford. To you two lads I can offer
+only stumps.”
+
+The tent had been pitched over a spot where three stumps had been
+smoothed off carefully until they made acceptable seats. One end of
+the tent was entirely open, facing a glowing fire of oak logs. Dick and
+Warner sat down on the stumps and spread out their hands to the blaze.
+Beyond the flames they saw the wintry forest and mountains, seemingly as
+wild as they were when the first white man came.
+
+The usual coffee and food were brought, and while they ate and drank
+Major Hertford answered the numerous and pertinent questions of Colonel
+Garfield. He listened attentively to the account of the fight in the
+mountains, 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 little
+of what is going on, but what you say only confirms my own opinion. The
+war is rapidly spreading over a much greater area, and I believe that
+its 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 well
+as soldier. He and Warner long afterward attended the inauguration of
+this man as President of the United States.
+
+After a brief rest, and good wishes from Garfield, Major Hertford and
+his command soon reached the main camp under Thomas. Here they were
+received by a man very different in appearance and manner from Garfield.
+
+General George H. Thomas, who was to receive the famous title, “The Rock
+of Chickamauga,” was then in middle years. Heavily built and bearded, he
+was chary of words. He merely nodded approval when Major Hertford told
+of their march.
+
+“I will assign your troops to a brigade,” he said, “and I don't think
+you'll have long to wait. We're expecting a battle in a few days with
+Crittenden 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 an
+impression of strength from his very silence? I should say that in his
+make-up he is five per cent talk, twenty-five per cent patience and
+seventy per cent action; total, one hundred per cent.”
+
+The region in which they lay was west of the higher mountains, which
+they had now crossed, but it was very rough and hilly. Not far from them
+was a little town called Somerset, which Dick had visited once, and near
+by, too, was the deep and swift Cumberland River, with much floating ice
+at its edges. When the two lads lay by a campfire that night Sergeant
+Whitley came to them with the news of the situation, which he had picked
+up in his usual deft and quiet way.
+
+“The Southern army is on the banks of the Cumberland,” he said. “It
+has 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 to
+the river an' cut off these supplies. So they mean to attack us as soon
+as they can. If I may venture to say so, Mr. Mason, I'd advise that you
+and Lieutenant Warner get as good a rest as you can, and as soon as you
+can.”
+
+They ate a hearty supper and being told by Major Hertford that they
+would not be wanted until the next day, they rolled themselves in heavy
+blankets, and, pointing their feet toward a good fire, slept on the
+ground. The night was very cold, because it was now the middle of
+January, but the blankets and fire kept them warm.
+
+Dick did not fall to sleep for some time, because he knew that he was
+going into battle again in a few days. He was on the soil of his native
+state now. He had already seen many Kentuckians in the army of Thomas
+and he knew that they would be numerous, too, in that of Crittenden
+and Zollicoffer. To some extent it would be a battle of brother against
+brother. He was glad that Harry Kenton was in the east. He did not wish
+in the height of battle to see his own cousin again on the opposite
+side.
+
+But when he did fall asleep his slumber was sound and restful, and he
+was ready and eager the next morning, when the sergeant, Warner, and he
+were detached for duty in a scouting party.
+
+“The general has asked that you be sent owing to your experience in the
+mountains,” said Major Hertford, “and I have agreed gladly. I hope that
+you're as glad as I am.”
+
+“We are, sir,” said the two boys together. The sergeant stood quietly by
+and smiled.
+
+The detachment numbered a hundred men, all young, strong, and well
+mounted. They were commanded by a young captain, John Markham, in whom
+Dick recognized a distant relative. In those days nearly all Kentuckians
+were more or less akin. The kinship was sufficient for Markham to keep
+the two boys on either side of him with Sergeant Whitley just behind.
+Markham lived in Frankfort and he had marched with Thomas from the
+cantonments 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 something
+from Pendleton?”
+
+He could not disguise the anxiety in his voice, and the young captain
+regarded him with sympathy.
+
+“I had news from there about a month ago, Dick,” he replied. “Your
+mother was well then, as I have no doubt she is now. The place was not
+troubled by guerillas who are hanging on the fringe of the armies here
+in Eastern, or in Southern and Western Kentucky. The war for the present
+at least has passed around Pendleton. Colonel Kenton was at Bowling
+Green with Albert Sidney Johnston, and his son, Harry, your cousin, is
+still in the East.”
+
+It was a rapid and condensed statement, but it was very satisfying to
+Dick who now rode on for a long time in silence. The road was as bad as
+a road could be. Snow and ice were mixed with the deep mud which pulled
+hard at the hoofs of their horses. The country was rough, sterile, and
+inhabited but thinly. They rode many miles without meeting a single
+human being. About the third hour they saw a man and a boy on a hillside
+several hundred yards away, but when Captain Markham and a chosen few
+galloped towards them they disappeared so deftly among the woods that
+not a trace of them could be found.
+
+“People in this region are certainly bashful,” said Captain Markham with
+a vexed laugh. “We meant them no harm, but they wouldn't stay to see
+us.”
+
+“But they don't know that,” said Dick with the familiarity of kinship,
+even though distant. “I fancy that the people hereabouts wish both
+Northerners and Southerners would go away.”
+
+Two miles further on they came to a large, double cabin standing back
+a little distance from the road. Smoke was rising from the chimney, and
+Captain Markham felt sure that they could obtain information from its
+inmates. Dick, at his direction, beat on the door with the butt of a
+small riding whip. There was no response. He beat again rapidly and
+heavily, and no answer coming he pushed in the door.
+
+A fire was burning on the hearth, but the house was abandoned. Nor had
+the owners been gone long. Besides the fire to prove it, clothing
+was 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 has
+been passed ahead of us, and that we'll not get within speaking distance
+of a single native. Curious, too, because this region in the main is for
+the North.”
+
+“Perhaps somebody has been robbing and plundering in our name,” said
+Dick. “Skelly and his raiders have been through these parts.”
+
+“That's so,” said Markham, thoughtfully. “I'm afraid those guerillas who
+claim 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 a
+road, 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 great
+depth, easily navigable, and far down its current they saw faintly the
+smoke of two steamers.
+
+“They bear supplies for the Southern army,” said Captain Markham. “We
+can cut off the passage of boats on this river and for that reason, so
+General Thomas concludes, the Southern army is going to attack us. What
+do 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 is
+the dead of winter, with more mud in the roads than I ever saw before
+anywhere, 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 miles
+east of them and running parallel with the road over which they had come
+was 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,” said
+Captain Markham.
+
+“True, sir,” replied the man, “but if the rebel army is advancing it is
+likely to be on that road.”
+
+“That is certainly sound logic. At least we'll go there and see. Can you
+lead us through these woods to it?”
+
+“I can take you straight across,” replied the man whose name was
+Carpenter. “But on the way we'll have to ford a creek which is likely to
+be 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. The
+creek, of which he had told, was running bankful of icy water, but their
+horses swam it and they kept straight ahead until Carpenter, who was a
+little in advance, held up a warning hand.
+
+Captain Markham ordered his whole troop to stop and keep as quiet as
+possible. Then he, Dick, Warner, Sergeant Whitley and Carpenter rode
+slowly forward. Before they had gone many yards Dick heard the heavy
+clank of metal, the cracking of whips, the swearing of men, and the
+sound of horses' feet splashing in the mud. He knew by the amount and
+variety of the noises that a great force was passing.
+
+They advanced a little further and reined into a clump of bushes which
+despite their lack of leaves were dense enough to shelter them from
+observation. As the bushes grew on a hillock they had a downward and
+good look into the road, which was fairly packed with men in the gray of
+the Confederate army, some on horseback, but mostly afoot, their cannon,
+ammunition and supply wagons sinking almost to the hub in the mud. As
+far as Dick could see the gray columns extended.
+
+“There must be six or seven thousand men here,” he said to Captain
+Markham.
+
+“Undoubtedly,” replied Markham, “this is the main Confederate army
+advancing to attack ours, but the badness of the roads operates against
+the offense. We shall reach General Thomas with the word that they are
+coming long before they are there.”
+
+They watched the marching army for a half hour longer in order to be
+sure of everything, and then turning they rode as fast as they could
+toward Thomas, elated at their success. They swam the creek again, but
+at another point. Carpenter told them that the Southern army would cross
+it on a bridge, and Markham lamented that he could not turn and destroy
+this bridge, but such an attempt would have been folly.
+
+They finally turned into the main road along which the Southern army was
+coming, although they were now miles ahead of it, and, covered from head
+to foot with the red mud of the hills, they urged on their worn horses
+toward the camp of Thomas.
+
+“I haven't had much experience in fighting, but I should imagine that
+complete preparation had a great deal to do with success,” said Captain
+Markham.
+
+“I'd put it at sixty per cent,” said Warner.
+
+“I should say,” added Dick, “that the road makes at least eighty per
+cent of our difficulty in getting back to Thomas.”
+
+In fact, the road was so bad that they were compelled after a while to
+ride into the woods and let their ponies rest. Here they were fired upon
+by Confederate skirmishers from a hill two or three hundred yards away.
+Their numbers were small, however, and Captain Markham's force charging
+them drove them off without loss.
+
+Then they resumed their weary journey, but the rest had not fully
+restored the horses and they were compelled at times to walk by the side
+of the road, leading their mounts. Sergeant Whitley, with his age and
+experience, was most useful now in restraining the impatient young
+men. Although of but humble rank he kept them from exhausting either
+themselves or their horses.
+
+“It will be long after dark before we can reach camp,” said Captain
+Markham, sighing deeply. “Confound such roads. Why not call them
+morasses 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't
+catch General Thomas asleep.”
+
+“You've judged him right,” said Markham. “I've been with 'Pap' Thomas
+some time--we call him 'Pap' because he takes such good care of us--and
+I 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 strikes
+like 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 think
+it 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 get
+there.”
+
+The wintry days were short and the sun slid down the gray, cold sky,
+leaving forest and hills in darkness. But the little band toiled
+patiently on, while the night deepened and darkened, and a chill wind
+whistled down from the ridges. The officers were silent now, but they
+looked eagerly for the first glimpse of the campfires of Thomas. At
+last they saw the little pink dots in the darkness, and then they pushed
+forward with new zeal, urging their weary horses into a run.
+
+When Captain Markham, Dick and Warner galloped into camp, ahead of
+the others, a thickset strong figure walked forward to meet them. They
+leaped from their horses and saluted.
+
+“Well?” said General Thomas.
+
+“The enemy is advancing upon us in full force, sir,” replied Captain
+Markham.
+
+“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 and
+cared for them. The boy glanced back at the thickset, powerful figure,
+standing by one of the fires and looking gravely into the coals. More
+than ever the man with the strong, patient look inspired confidence
+in him. He was sure now that they would win on the morrow. Markham and
+Warner felt the same confidence.
+
+“There's a lot in having a good general,” said Warner, who had also
+glanced back at the strong figure. “Do you remember, Dick, what it was
+that 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 said
+it. A general can't be one hundred per cent and an army none. It was a
+figure of speech so to say, but I imagine that a general is about forty
+per 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 was
+movement all around them during the late hours of the night. Thomas
+with his cautious, measuring mind was rectifying his lines in the wintry
+darkness. He occupied a crossing of the roads, and he posted a strong
+battery of artillery to cover the Southern approach. Around him were men
+from Kentucky, the mountains of Tennessee, Ohio, Indiana, and Minnesota.
+The Minnesota troops were sun-tanned men who had come more than a
+thousand miles from an Indian-infested border to defend the Union.
+
+All through the night Thomas worked. He directed men with spades to
+throw up more intrenchments. He saw that the guns of the battery were
+placed exactly right. He ordered that food should be ready for all very
+early 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 wrapped
+in a heavy military overcoat, silent and watchful. Scouts had brought in
+additional news that the Southern army was still marching steadily along
+the muddy roads, and that Captain Markham's calculation of its arrival
+about dawn would undoubtedly prove correct.
+
+Dick awoke while it was yet dark, and throwing off the heavy blankets
+stood up.
+
+Although the dawn had not come, the night was now fairly light and Dick
+could see a long distance over the camp which stretched to left and
+right along a great front. Near him was the battery with most of the men
+sleeping beside their guns, and not far away was the tent. Although he
+could not see the general, he knew instinctively that he was not asleep.
+
+It was cold and singularly still, considering the presence of so many
+thousands of men. He did not hear the sound of human voices and there
+was no stamp of horses' feet. They, too, were weary and resting.
+Then Dick was conscious of a tall, thin figure beside him. Warner had
+awakened, 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 this
+silence just before the dawn. I thought I heard a faint sound like the
+clank of a cannon.”
+
+“I think I hear it, too,” said Warner, “and here is the dawn closer at
+hand than we thought. Look at those cold rays over there, behind that
+hill 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 rifle
+shots. The Southern advance undoubtedly had come into contact with
+the Union sentinels and skirmishers. After the first shots there was a
+moment'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 the
+darkness, but he could not yet see the enemy. He saw instead little jets
+of fire like red dots appearing on the horizon, and then the sound of
+the rifles came again. Warner was with him and both stood by the side of
+Major Hertford, ready to receive and deliver his orders. Dick now heard
+besides the firing in front the confused murmur and moving of the Union
+army.
+
+Few of these troops had been in battle before--the same could be said
+of the soldiers on the other side--and this attack in the half-light
+troubled them. They wished to see the men who were going to shoot at
+them, in order that they might have a fair target in return. Fighting in
+the night was scarcely fair. One never knew what to do. But Thomas, the
+future “Rock of Chickamauga,” was already showing himself a tower of
+strength. He reassured his nervous troops, he borrowed Dick and Warner
+and sent them along the line with messages from himself that they had
+nothing to do but stand firm and the victory was theirs.
+
+Meanwhile the line of red dots in front was lengthening. It stretched
+farther to left and right than Dick could see, and was rapidly coming
+nearer. Already the sentinels and skirmishers were waging a sharp
+conflict, and the shouts of the combatants increased in volume. Then the
+cold sun swung clear of the earth, and its wintry beams lighted up both
+forest and open. The whole Southern army appeared, advancing in masses,
+and Dick, who was now with Major Hertford again, saw the pale rays
+falling on rifles and bayonets, and the faces of his own countrymen as
+they marched upon the Union camp.
+
+“There's danger for our army! Lots of it!” said Warner, as he watched
+the steady advance of the Southern brigades.
+
+Dick remembered Bull Run, but his thoughts ran back to the iron general
+who commanded now.
+
+“Thomas will save us,” he said.
+
+The skirmishers on both sides were driven in. Their scattered fire
+ceased, but a moment later the whole front of the Southern army burst
+into flame. It seemed to Dick that one vast sheet of light like a sword
+blade suddenly shot forward, and then a storm of lead, bearing many
+messengers of death, beat upon the Northern army, shattering its front
+lines and carrying confusion among its young troops. But the officers
+and a few old regulars like Sergeant Whitley steadied them and they
+returned the fire.
+
+Major Hertford, Dick and Warner were all on foot, and their own little
+band, already tried in battle, yielded not an inch. They formed a core
+of resistance around which others rallied and Thomas himself was passing
+along the line, giving heart to the lads fresh from the farms.
+
+But the Southern army fired again, and shouting the long fierce rebel
+yell, charged with all its strength. Dick saw before him a vast cloud
+of smoke, through which fire flashed and bullets whistled. He heard men
+around him uttering short cries of pain, and he saw others fall, mostly
+sinking forward on their faces. But those who stood, held fast and
+loaded and fired until the barrels of their rifles burned to the touch.
+
+Dick felt many tremors at first, but soon the passion of battle seized
+him. He carried no rifle, but holding his officer's small sword in his
+hand he ran up and down the line crying to the men to stand firm, that
+they would surely beat back the enemy. That film of fire and smoke was
+yet before his eyes, but he saw through it the faces of his countrymen
+still coming on. He heard to his right the thudding of the great guns
+that Thomas had planted on a low hill, but the rifle fire was like the
+beat 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 so
+firm and deadly a front.
+
+But an alarming report ran down the line that their left was driven
+back, and it was true. The valiant Zollicoffer leading his brigade in
+person, had rushed upon this portion of the Northern army which was
+standing upon another low hill and struck it with great violence. It was
+wavering and would give way soon. But Thomas, showing the singular calm
+that always marked him in battle, noticed the weak spot. The general was
+then near Major Hertford. He quickly wrote a dispatch and beckoned to
+Dick:
+
+“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 to
+meet the attack there on the hill, where our troops are wavering!”
+
+Dick, aflame with excitement, leaped into the saddle, and while the roar
+of battle was still in his ears reached the brigade of Carter, already
+marching toward the thick of the conflict. One entire regiment, composed
+wholly of Kentuckians, was detached to help the Indiana troops who were
+being driven fiercely by Zollicoffer.
+
+Dick rode at the head of the Kentuckians, but a bullet struck his horse
+in the chest. The boy felt the animal shiver beneath him, and he leaped
+clear just in time, the horse falling heavily and lying quite still. But
+Dick alighted on his feet, and still brandishing his sword, and shouting
+at the top of his voice, ran on.
+
+In an instant they reached the Indiana troops, who turned with them, and
+the combined forces hurled themselves upon the enemy. The Southerners,
+refusing to yield the ground they had gained, received them, and there
+began a confused and terrible combat, shoulder to shoulder and hand to
+hand. 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 and
+deepened 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 Whitley
+showed through the hot haze of smoke. The back of Warner's hand had been
+grazed by a bullet. He had not noticed it himself, but the slow
+drip, drip of the blood held Dick for a moment with a sort of hideous
+fascination. Then he broke his gaze violently away and turned it upon
+the enemy, who were pouring upon them in all their massed strength.
+
+Thomas had sent the Kentuckians to the aid of the Indiana men just in
+time. The hill was a vast bank of smoke and fire, filled with whistling
+bullets and shouts of men fighting face to face. Some one reeled and
+fell against Dick, and for a moment, he was in horror lest it should be
+Warner, but a glance showed him that it was a stranger. Then he rushed
+on again, filled with a mad excitement, waving his small sword, and
+shouting to the men to charge.
+
+From right to left the roar of battle came to his ears, but on the hill
+where he stood the struggle was at its height. The lines of Federals and
+Confederates, face to face at first, now became mixed, but neither side
+gained. In the fiery struggle a Union officer, Fry, saw Zollicoffer
+only a few feet away. Snatching out his pistol he shot him dead. The
+Southerners seeing the fall of the general who was so popular among them
+hesitated and then gave back. Thomas, watching everything with keen
+and steady gaze, hurled an Ohio regiment from the right flank upon the
+Southern center, causing it to give way yet further under the shock.
+
+“We win! We win!” shouted Dick in his ardor, as he saw the Southern
+line yielding. But the victory was not yet achieved. Crittenden, who was
+really Zollicoffer's superior in the command, displayed the most heroic
+courage throughout the battle. He brought up fresh troops to help his
+weakened center. He reformed his lines and was about to restore the
+battle, but Thomas, silent and ever watchful, now rushed in a brigade
+of Tennessee mountaineers, and as they struck with all their weight, the
+new line of the South was compelled to give way. Success seen and felt
+filled the veins of the soldiers with fresh fire. Dick and the men about
+him saw the whole Southern line crumble up before them. The triumphant
+Union army rushed forward shouting, and the Confederates were forced to
+give way at all points.
+
+Dick and Warner, with the watchful sergeant near, were in the very front
+of the advance. The two young aides carried away by success and the
+fire of battle, waved their swords continually and rushed at the enemy's
+lines.
+
+Dick's face was covered with smoke, his lips were burnt, and his throat
+was raw from so much shouting. But he was conscious only of great
+elation. “This is not another Bull Run!” he cried to Warner, and Warner
+cried back: “Not by a long shot!”
+
+Thomas, still cool, watchful, and able to judge of results amid all the
+thunder and confusion of battle, hurried every man into the attack.
+He was showing upon this, his first independent field, all the great
+qualities he was destined later to manifest so brilliantly in some of
+the greatest battles of modern times.
+
+The Southern lines were smashed completely by those heavy and continuous
+blows. Driven hard on every side they now retreated rapidly, and their
+triumphant enemies seized prisoners and cannon.
+
+The whole Confederate army continued its swift retreat until it reached
+its intrenchments, where the officers rallied the men and turned to face
+their enemy. But the cautious Thomas stopped. He had no intention of
+losing his victory by an attack upon an intrenched foe, and drew off for
+the present. His army encamped out of range and began to attend to the
+wounded and bury the dead.
+
+Dick, feeling the reaction after so much exertion and excitement, sat
+down on a fallen tree trunk and drew long, panting breaths. He saw
+Warner near and remembered the blood that had been dripping from his
+hand.
+
+“Do you know that you are wounded, George?” he said. “Look at the back
+of 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 brain
+were both so hot that the flick of a bullet created no sensation. I have
+figured it out, Dick, and I have concluded that seventy per cent of our
+bravery in battle is excitement, leaving twenty per cent to will and ten
+per 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. He
+had escaped without harm and he saw with pleasure that the lads were
+alive and well, except for Warner's slight wound.
+
+“You can rest now, boys,” he said, “I won't need you for some time. But
+I can tell you that I don't think General Thomas means to quit. He will
+follow up his victory.”
+
+But Dick and Warner had been sure of that already. The army, flushed
+with triumph, was eager to be led on, even to make a night attack on the
+intrenchments of the enemy, but Thomas held them, knowing that another
+brigade 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 of
+the guns were brought up and they sent a dozen heavy cannon shot into
+the intrenchments of the enemy. There was no reply and neither of the
+boys, although they strained ears, could hear anything in the defeated
+camp.
+
+“I shouldn't be surprised if we found them gone in the morning,” said
+Major Hertford to Dick. “But I think our general is right in not making
+any 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 the
+darkness with trained eyes, although he could not see the Confederate
+intrenchments.
+
+“If a sergeant may offer an opinion I agree with you fully, sir,” he
+said. “A night attack is always risky, an' most of all, sir, when troops
+are new like ours, although they're as brave as anybody. More'n likely
+if we was to rush on 'em our troops would be shootin' into one another
+in the darkness.”
+
+“Good logic,” said Major Hertford, “and as it is quite certain that they
+are not in any condition to come out and attack us we'll stand by and
+wait till morning. So the general orders.”
+
+They walked back toward the place where the victorious troops were
+lighting the fires, out of the range of the cannon in the Confederate
+intrenchments. They were exultant, but they were not boasting unduly.
+Night, cold and dark, had shut down upon them and was taking the heat
+out of their blood. Hundreds of men were at work building fires, and
+Dick 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 in
+abundance. The forest stretched on all sides of them in almost unbroken
+miles, and the earth was littered with dead wood fallen a year or years
+before. They merely kept away from the side on which the Confederate
+intrenchments lay, and brought in the wood in great quantities. A row
+of lights a half mile long sprang up, giving forth heat and warmth.
+Then arose the cheerful sound of tin and iron dishes and cups rattling
+against one another. A quarter of an hour later they were eating a
+victorious supper, and a little later most of them slept.
+
+But in the night the Confederate troops abandoned their camp, leaving in
+it ten cannon and fifteen hundred wagons and crossed the river in boats,
+which they destroyed when they reached the other side. Then, their
+defeat being so severe, and they but volunteers, they scattered in the
+mountains 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 Thomas
+could not follow into the deep mountains where his army might be cut
+off. So he remained where he was for a little while and on the second
+day he sent for Dick.
+
+The general was seated alone in a tent, an open end of which faced a
+fire, as it was now extremely cold. General Thomas had shown no undue
+elation 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, so
+I hear.”
+
+“I was, and the army fought well there too, but late in the day it was
+seized with a sudden panic.”
+
+“Something that may happen at any time to raw troops. But we'll pass to
+the question in hand. The campaign here in the mountains is ended for
+this winter, but great matters are afoot further west. A courier arrived
+last night stating that General Grant and Commodore Foote were preparing
+to advance by water from Cairo, Illinois, and attempt the reduction of
+the Confederate forts on the Cumberland and Tennessee. General Buell,
+one of your own Kentuckians, is advancing southward with a strong Union
+force, and in a few days his outposts will be on Green River. It will
+be of great advantage to Buell to know that the Confederate army in the
+eastern part of the state is destroyed. He can advance with freedom and,
+on the other hand, the Southern leader, Albert Sidney Johnston, will be
+compelled to throw a portion of his force to the eastward to protect
+his flank which has been uncovered by our victory at Mill Spring. Do you
+understand?”
+
+“I do, sir.”
+
+“Then you are to carry dispatches of the utmost importance from me to
+General 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 the
+country well between here and Green River. Because of that, and because
+of your intelligence, real intelligence, I mean, you are chosen for this
+task. You are to change to citizen's clothes at once, and a horse of
+great power and endurance has been selected for you. But you must use
+all your faculties all the time. I warn you that the journey is full of
+danger.”
+
+“I can carry it out,” replied Dick with quiet confidence, “and I thank
+you 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 give
+you the dispatches.”
+
+Warner was filled with envy that his comrade was to go on a secret
+mission of great importance, but he generously wished him a full measure
+of success.
+
+“Remember,” he said, “that on an errand like yours, presence of mind
+counts for at least fifty per cent. Have a quick tongue. Always be ready
+with a tale that looks true.”
+
+“An' remember, too,” said Sergeant Whitley, “that however tight a place
+you get into you can get into one tighter. Think of that and it will
+encourage you to pull right out of the hole.”
+
+The two wrung his hand and Major Hertford also gave him his warmest
+wishes. The horse chosen for him was a bay of tremendous power, and Dick
+knew that he would serve him well. He carried double blankets strapped
+to the saddle, pistols in holsters with another in his belt, an
+abundance of ammunition, and food for several days in his saddle bags.
+Then he returned to General Thomas, who handed him a thin strip of
+tissue paper.
+
+“It is written in indelible ink,” he said, “and it contains a statement
+of our forces and their positions here in the eastern part of the state.
+It also tells General Buell what reinforcements he can expect. If you
+are in imminent danger of capture destroy the paper, but to provide for
+such a chance, in case you escape afterward, I will read the dispatches
+to you.”
+
+He read them over several times and then questioned Dick. But the boy's
+memory was good. In fact, every word of the dispatches was burnt into
+his brain, and nothing could make him forget them.
+
+“And now, my lad,” said General Thomas, giving him his hand, “you may
+help us greatly. I would not send a boy upon such an errand, but the
+demands of war are terrible and must be obeyed.”
+
+The strong grasp of the general's hand imparted fresh enthusiasm to
+Dick, and for the present he did not have the slightest doubt that
+he would get safely through. He wore a strong suit of home-made brown
+jeans, a black felt cap with ear-flaps, and high boots. The dispatch was
+pinned into a small inside pocket of his vest.
+
+He rode quickly out of camp, giving the sentinels the pass word, and the
+head of the horse was pointed west slightly by north. The ground was now
+frozen and he did not have the mud to hold him back.
+
+The horse evidently had been longing for action. Such thews and
+sinews as his needed exercise. He stretched out his long neck, neighed
+joyously, and broke of his own accord into an easy canter. It was a
+lonely road, and Dick was glad that it was so. The fewer people he met
+the better it was in every way for him.
+
+He shared the vigor and spirit of his horse. His breath turned to
+smoke, but the cold whipped his blood into a quicker torrent. He hummed
+snatches of the songs that he had heard Samuel Jarvis sing, and went on
+mile 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 Dark
+and Bloody Ground--came back to him. He knew that war in one of its
+worst forms existed in this wild sweep of hills. Here the guerillas
+rode, choosing their sides as suited them best, and robbing as paid them
+most. Nor did these rough men hesitate at murder. So he rode most of the
+time with his hand on the butt of the pistol at his belt, and whenever
+he went through woods, which was most of the time, he kept a wary watch
+to right and to left.
+
+The first person whom he passed was a boy riding on a sack of grain to
+mill. Dick greeted him cheerfully and the boy with the fearlessness of
+youth 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. Is
+it so, Mister?”
+
+“It is true,” replied Dick. “A dozen people have told me of it, but the
+armies were not quite so large as you heard. It is true also that the
+Yankees won.”
+
+“I'll tell that at the mill. It will be big news to them. An' which way
+be 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 after
+some land that my people own in the mountains. Looks like a lonesome
+road, 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 war
+times by visitors, an' he's likely to meet you at the door with his
+double-barreled shotgun.”
+
+“I won't knock on Ben's door, so he needn't take down his
+double-barreled shotgun. What's next beyond Ben's house?”
+
+“A half mile further on you come to Hungry Creek. It ain't much in the
+middle of summer, but right now it's full of cold water, 'nough of it to
+come 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 and
+he glanced back. The boy had stopped on the crest of a hill, and was
+looking at him. But Dick knew that it was only the natural curiosity of
+the hills and he renewed his journey without apprehension.
+
+At the appointed time he saw the stout log cabin of Ben Trimble by the
+roadside with the warm smoke rising from the chimney, but true to his
+word he gave Ben and his shotgun no trouble, and continued straight
+ahead 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 and
+cold, and Dick looked at it doubtfully.
+
+He urged his great horse into the stream at last, and it appeared that
+the creek had risen somewhat since the boy had last seen it. In the
+middle the horse was compelled to swim, but it was no task for such a
+powerful animal, and Dick, holding his feet high, came dry to the shore
+that he sought.
+
+The road led on through high hills, covered with oak and beech and cedar
+and pine, all the deciduous trees bare of leaves, their boughs rustling
+dryly whenever the wind blew. He saw the smoke of three cabins nestling
+in snug coves, but it was a full three hours before he met anybody else
+in the road. Then he saw two men riding toward him, but he could not
+tell much about them as they were wrapped in heavy gray shawls, and wore
+broad brimmed felt hats, pulled well down over their foreheads.
+
+Dick knew that he could not exercise too much caution in this debatable
+land, and his right hand dropped cautiously to the butt of his pistol in
+such a manner that it was concealed by his heavy overcoat. His left hand
+rested lightly on the reins as he rode forward at an even pace. But he
+did not fail to take careful note of the two men who were now examining
+him in a manner that he did not like.
+
+Dick saw that the strangers openly carried pistols in their belts, which
+was not of overwhelming significance in such times in such a region, but
+they 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 pass
+them.
+
+He noted with rising apprehension that they checked the pace of their
+horses as they approached, and that they reined to either side of the
+road to compel him to go between them. But he pulled his own horse out
+still further, and as they could not pass on both sides of him without
+an overt act of hostility they drew together again in the middle of the
+road.
+
+“Mornin' stranger,” they said together, when they were a few yards away.
+
+“Good morning,” said Dick, riding straight on, without checking his
+speed. 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' the
+time o' day.”
+
+Now at close range, Dick liked their looks less than ever. They might
+be members of that very band of Skelly's which had already made so much
+trouble for both sides, and he summoned all his faculties in order to
+meet them at any game that they might try to play.
+
+“I've been on land business in the mountains,” he said, “and I'm anxious
+to get back to my home. Besides the day is very cold, and the two facts
+deprive me of the pleasure of a long conversation with you, gentlemen.
+Good-day.”
+
+“Wait just a little,” said the spokesman, who still kept his horse
+reined across the road. “These be war times an' it's important to know
+what a fellow is. Be you for the Union or are you with the Secesh?”
+
+Dick was quite sure that whatever he answered they would immediately
+claim to be on the opposite side. Then would follow robbery and perhaps
+murder.
+
+“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 up
+by the side of him, as if to seize him, while the first continued to bar
+the way. He was alarmed, deeply alarmed, but he lost neither his courage
+nor his presence of mind. Luckily he had already summoned every faculty
+for instant action, and now he acted. He uttered a sudden shout, and
+raked 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 he
+made 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 down
+with him. The enraged horse then leaped clear of both and darted forward
+at headlong speed.
+
+As his horse sprang Dick threw himself flat upon his neck, and the
+bullet that the second man fired whistled over his head. By impulse he
+drew his own pistol and fired back. He saw the man's pistol arm fall as
+if broken, and he heard a loud cry. That was a lucky shot indeed, and
+rising a little in his saddle he shouted again and again to the great
+horse that served him so well.
+
+The gallant animal responded in full. He stretched out his long neck and
+the road flew fast behind him. Sparks flashed from the stones where
+the shod hoofs struck, and Dick exulting felt the cold air rush past.
+Another shot was fired at long range, but the bullet did not strike
+anywhere near.
+
+Dick took only a single backward glance. He saw the two men on their
+horses, but drooping as if weak from hurts, and he knew that for the
+present at least he was safe from any hurt from them. But he allowed his
+horse his head for a long time, and then he gradually slowed him
+down. No human being was in sight now and he spoke to the noble animal
+soothingly.
+
+“Good old boy,” he said; “the strongest, the swiftest, the bravest, and
+the truest. I was sorry to make those red stripes on your sides, but it
+had to be done. Only quickness saved us.”
+
+The horse neighed. He was still quivering from excitement and
+exertion. So was Dick for that matter. The men might have been robbers
+merely--they were at least that bad--but they might have deprived him
+also of his precious dispatch. He was proud of the confidence put in
+him by General Thomas, and he meant to deserve it. It was this sense
+of responsibility and pride that had attuned his faculties to so high a
+pitch and that had made his action so swift, sudden and decisive.
+
+But he steadied himself presently. The victory, for victory it certainly
+was, increased his strength and confidence. He stopped soon at a
+brook--they seemed to occur every mile--and bathed with cold water the
+red streaks his spurs had made on either side of his horse. Again he
+spoke soothing words and regretted the necessity that had caused him to
+make 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, meanwhile
+keeping constant watch on the road over which he had come. But he did
+not 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 passed
+three 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 bare
+ridges, when first he noticed how late the day had grown. All the sky
+was gray and chill and the cold sun was setting behind the western
+mountains. A breeze sprang up, rustling among the leafless branches, and
+Dick shivered in the saddle. A new necessity was pressed suddenly upon
+him. He must find shelter for the night. Even with his warm double
+blankets he could not sleep in the forest on such a night. Besides the
+horse would need food.
+
+He rode on briskly for a full hour, anxiously watching both sides of
+the 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 right
+a faint coil of smoke rising against the dusky sky and he rode straight
+for it.
+
+The smoke came from a strong double cabin, standing about four hundred
+yards from the road, and the sight of the heavy log walls made Dick all
+the more anxious to get inside them. The cold had grown bitter and even
+his horse shivered.
+
+As he approached two yellow curs rushed forth and began to bark
+furiously, 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 kept
+at 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 the
+door, the light of a fire blazing in the fireplace on the opposite side
+of the wall throwing him in relief. His hair was coal black, long and
+coarse, increasing his resemblance to an Indian.
+
+Dick rode close to the door, and, without hesitation, asked for a
+night's shelter and food. This was his inalienable right in the hills or
+mountains of his state, and he would be a strange man indeed who would
+refuse it.
+
+The man sharply bade the dogs be silent and they retreated behind the
+house, their tails drooping. Then he said to Dick in a tone that was not
+without hospitality:
+
+“'Light, stranger, an' we'll put up your horse. Mandy will have supper
+ready by the time we finish the job.”
+
+Dick sprang down gladly, but staggered a little at first from the
+stiffness of his legs.
+
+“You've rid far, stranger,” said the man, who Dick knew at once had a
+keen eye and a keen brain, “an' you're young, too.”
+
+“But not younger than many who have gone to the war,” replied Dick. “In
+fact, you see many who are not older than fifteen or sixteen.”
+
+He had spoken hastily and incautiously and he realized it at once. The
+man's keen gaze was turned upon him again.
+
+“You've seen the armies, then?” he said. “Mebbe you're a sojer
+yourself?”
+
+“I've been in the mountains, looking after some land that belongs to my
+family,” said Dick. “My name is Mason, Richard Mason, and I live near
+Pendleton, which is something like a hundred miles from here.”
+
+He deemed it best to give his right name, as it would have no
+significance there.
+
+“You must have seen armies,” persisted the man, “or you wouldn't hev
+knowed 'bout so many boys of fifteen or sixteen bein' in them.”
+
+“I saw both the Federal and Confederate armies in Eastern Kentucky. My
+business 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 General
+Thomas.”
+
+“That was what I heard. It will be good news to some, an' bad news to
+others. 'Pears to me, Mr. Mason, that you can't fight a battle that will
+suit everybody.”
+
+“I never heard of one that did.”
+
+“An' never will, I reckon. Mighty good hoss that you're ridin'. I never
+seed one with better shoulders. My name's Leffingwell, Seth Leffingwell,
+an' I live here alone, 'ceptin' my old woman, Mandy. All we ask of
+people is to let us be. Lots of us in the mountain feel that way. Let
+them lowlanders shoot one another up ez long ez they please, but up here
+there 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 saw
+stalls for four horses, but no horses. They put his own horse in one
+of the stalls, and gave him corn and hay. Then they walked back to the
+house, and entered a large room, where a stalwart woman of middle age
+had just finished cooking supper.
+
+“Whew, but the night's goin' to be cold,” said Leffingwell, as he shut
+the door behind them, and cut off an icy blast. “It'll make the fire
+an' supper all the better. We're just plain mountain people, but you're
+welcome to the best we have. Ma, this is Mr. Mason, who has been on
+lan' business in the mountains, an' is back on his way to his home at
+Pendleton.”
+
+Leffingwell's wife, a powerful woman, as large as her husband, and with
+a 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. Will
+you an' the stranger set?”
+
+She had placed the pine table in the middle of the room, and Dick
+noticed that it was large enough for five or six persons. He put his
+saddle 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 ten
+feet wide big logs roared and crackled. Corn cakes, vegetables, and
+two kinds of meat were cooking over the coals and a great pot of coffee
+boiled and bubbled. No candles had been lighted, but they were not
+needed. The flames gave sufficient illumination.
+
+“Set, young man,” said Leffingwell heartily, “an' see who's teeth are
+sharper, yourn or mine.”
+
+Dick sat down gladly, and they fell to. The woman alternately waited on
+them and ate with them. For a time the two masculine human beings
+ate 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 when
+you 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's
+cookin' either. She's never had her beat in all these mountains.”
+
+“Shut up, Seth,” said Mrs. Leffingwell, genially, “you'll make the young
+stranger think you're plum' foolish, which won't be wide of the mark
+either.”
+
+“I'm grateful,” said Dick falling into the spirit of it, “but what pains
+me, Mrs. Leffingwell, is the fact that Mr. Leffingwell will only nibble
+at 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 keep
+Mandy here cookin' all the time.”
+
+They seemed pleasant people to Dick, good, honest mountain types, and he
+was glad that he had found their house. The room in which they sat
+was large, apparently used for all purposes, kitchen, dining-room,
+sitting-room, and bedroom. An old-fashioned squirrel rifle lay on hooks
+projecting from the wall, but there was no other sign of a weapon. There
+was a bed at one end of the room and another at the other, which could
+be hidden by a rough woolen curtain running on a cord. Dick surmised
+that this bed would be assigned to him.
+
+Their appetites grew lax and finally ceased. Then Leffingwell yawned and
+stretched 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 a
+hard, 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 eyelids
+that he could scarcely keep them up. He murmured his excuses and said he
+believed 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 space
+around it. Dick, used to primitive customs, said good-night and retired
+within his alcove, taking his saddle bags. There was a small window near
+the foot of the room, and when he noticed it he resolved to let in a
+little air later on. The mountaineers liked hot rooms all the time, but
+he did not. This window contained no glass, but was closed with a broad
+shutter.
+
+The boy undressed and got into bed, placing his saddle bags on the foot
+of it, and the pistol that he carried in his belt under his head. He
+fell asleep almost immediately and had he been asked beforehand he would
+have said that nothing could awake him before morning. Nevertheless he
+awoke before midnight, and it was a very slight thing that caused him
+to come out of sleep. Despite the languor produced by food and heat a
+certain nervous apprehension had been at work in the boy's mind, and it
+followed him into the unknown regions of sleep. His body was dead for
+a time and his mind too, but this nervous power worked on, almost
+independently of him. It had noted the sound of voices nearby, and
+awakened 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. Then
+he remembered the window, and softly drawing two pegs that fastened it
+in order that he might not awaken his good hosts, he opened it inward a
+few 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 not
+noticed at first the cause that really awakened him, but as he settled
+back into bed, grateful for the fresh air, the same mysterious power
+gave him a second warning signal.
+
+He heard the hum of voices and sat up again. It was merely the
+Leffingwells in the bed at the far end of the room, talking! Perhaps
+he had not been asleep more than an hour, and it was natural that
+they should lie awake a while, talking about the coming of this young
+stranger or any other event of the day that interested them. Then he
+caught a tone or an inflection that he did not remember to have been
+used by either of the Leffingwells. A third signal of alarm was promptly
+registered on his brain.
+
+He leaned from the bed and pulling aside the curtain a half an inch
+or so, looked into the room. The fire had died down except a few coals
+which cast but a faint light. Yet it was sufficient to show Dick that
+the two Leffingwells had not gone to bed. They were sitting fully
+clothed before the fireplace, and three other persons were with them.
+
+As Dick stared his eyes grew more used to the half dusk and he saw
+clearly. The three strangers were young men, all armed heavily, and the
+resemblance of two of them to the Leffingwells was so striking that he
+had no doubt they were their sons. Now he understood about those empty
+stalls. The third man, who had been sitting with his shoulder toward
+Dick, turned his face presently, and the boy with difficulty repressed
+an exclamation. It was the one who had reined his horse across the road
+to stop him. A fourth and conclusive signal of alarm was registered upon
+his brain.
+
+He began to dress rapidly and without noise. Meanwhile he listened
+intently and could hear the words they spoke. The woman was pleading
+with them to let him go. He was only a harmless lad, and while these
+were 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 shot
+Garmon in the arm.”
+
+“I'd like to have that hoss of his,” said the elder Leffingwell. “He's
+the finest brute I ever laid eyes on. Sech power an' sech action. I
+noticed him at once, when Mason come ridin' up. S'pose we jest take the
+hoss and send the boy on.”
+
+“A hoss like that would be knowed,” protested the woman. “What if sojers
+come lookin' fur him!”
+
+“We could run him off in the hills an' keep him there a while,” said
+Leffingwell. “I know places where sojers wouldn't find that hoss in a
+thousand years. What do you say to that, Kerins?”
+
+“Good as fur as it goes,” replied Kerins, “but it don't go fur enough
+by a long shot. The Yanks whipped the Johnnies in a big battle at Mill
+Spring. Me an' my pardners have been hangin' 'roun' in the woods, seein'
+what would happen. Now, we know that this boy rode straight from the
+tent 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 'less
+it was on big business. He's got messages, dispatches of some kind that
+are worth a heap to somebody. With all the armies gatherin' in the south
+an' west of the state it stands to reason that them dispatches mean a
+lot. Now, we've got to get 'em an' get the full worth of 'em from them
+to 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 went
+through 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 kin
+git a heap fur 'em.”
+
+“Shut up, Jim, you fool,” said his mother sharply. “Do you want murder
+on your hands? Stealin' hosses is bad enough, but if that boy has got
+the big dispatches you say he has, an' he's missin', don't you think
+that 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 nice
+boy 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 take
+the horse. As for the dispatches it wasn't wise for them to fool with
+such things. But Kerins insisted on going the whole route and the young
+Leffingwells were with him.
+
+Meanwhile Dick had dressed with more rapidity than ever before in his
+life, fully alive to the great dangers that threatened. But his fear was
+greatest lest he might lose the precious dispatches that he bore. For
+a few moments he did not know what to do. He might take his pistols and
+fight, but he could not fight them all with success. Then that pleasant
+flood 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 ground
+outside, remembering to take the precaution of closing the shutter
+behind him, lest the sudden inrush of cold startle the Leffingwells and
+their friends.
+
+It was an icy night, but Dick did not stop to notice it. He ran to the
+stable, saddled and bridled his horse in two minutes, and in another
+minute was flying westward over the flinty road, careless whether or not
+they 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 he
+secured his own horse he had noticed that all the empty stalls were now
+filled, no doubt by the horses of the young Leffingwells and Kerins,
+but he was secure in his confidence that none could overtake the one he
+rode.
+
+He felt of that inside pocket of his vest. The precious dispatch was
+there, tightly pinned into its hidden refuge, and as for himself,
+refreshed, warm, and strong after food, rest, and sleep, he felt equal
+to any emergency. He had everything with him. The stout saddle bags were
+lying 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 the
+saddle.
+
+Although he was quite sure there would be no pursuit--the elder
+Leffingwells would certainly keep their sons from joining it--he sent
+his great horse straight ahead at a good pace for a long time, the
+road being fairly good. His excitement and rapid motion kept him from
+noticing 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 below
+zero, he dismounted, looped the reins over his arms, and walked a while.
+For further precaution he took his blanket-roll and wrapped the two
+blankets about his body, especially protecting his neck and ears.
+
+He found that the walking, besides keeping him warmer, took all the
+stiffness out of his muscles, and he continued on foot several miles. He
+passed two brooks and a creek, all frozen over so solidly that the horse
+passed on them without breaking the ice. It was an extremely difficult
+task to make the animal try the ice, but after much delicate coaxing and
+urging he always succeeded.
+
+He saw two more cabins at the roadside, but he did not think of asking
+hospitality at either. The night was now far advanced and he wished
+to put many more miles between him and the Leffingwell home before he
+sought rest again.
+
+He mounted his horse once more, and increased his speed. Now the
+reaction came after so much exertion and excitement. He began to feel
+depressed. He was very young and he had no comrade. The loneliness of
+the winter night in a country full of dangers was appalling. It seemed
+to him, as his heart sank, that all things had conspired against him.
+But the moment of despair was brief. He summoned his courage anew and
+rode on bravely, although the sense of loneliness in its full power
+remained.
+
+The moonlight was quite bright. The sky was a deep silky blue, in which
+myriads of cold stars shone and danced. By and by he skirted for a while
+the banks of a small river, which he knew flowed southward into
+the Cumberland, and which would not cross his path. The rays of the
+moonlight 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 began
+to come. The red but cold edge of the sun appeared above the mountains
+that he had left behind, and then the morning came, pale and cold.
+
+Dick stopped at a little brook, broke the ice and drank, letting his
+horse drink after him. Then he ate heartily of the cold bread and meat
+in his knapsack. Pitying his horse he searched until he found a little
+grass not yet killed by winter in the lee of the hill, and waited until
+he cropped it all.
+
+He mounted and resumed his journey through a country in which the
+hills were steadily becoming lower, with larger stretches of level land
+appearing between them. By night he should be beyond the last low swell
+of the mountains and into the hill region proper. As he calculated
+distances his heart gave a great thump. He was to locate Buell some
+distance north of Green River, and his journey would take him close to
+Pendleton.
+
+The boy was torn by great and conflicting emotions. He would carry
+out with his life the task that Thomas had assigned to him, and yet he
+wished to stop near Pendleton, if only for an hour.
+
+Yes an hour would do! And it could not interfere with his duty! But
+Pendleton was a Southern stronghold. Everybody there knew him, and they
+all knew, too, that he was in the service of the North. How could he
+pass by without being seen and what might happen then? The terrible
+conflict went on in his mind, and it was stilled only when he decided to
+leave 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 statement
+of himself and probably believing it. He heard that a small Southern
+force was to the southward, probably marching toward Bowling Green,
+where a great Confederate army under Albert Sidney Johnston was said to
+be concentrated. But the news gave him no alarm. His own road was still
+leading west slightly by north.
+
+When night came he was in the pleasant and fertile hill country, dotted
+with double brick houses, and others of wood, all with wide porticos,
+supported by white pillars. It looked smiling and prosperous even in
+winter. The war had done no ravages here, and he saw men at work about
+the great barns.
+
+He slept in the house of a big farmer, who liked the frank voice and
+eyes of the lad, and who cared nothing for any errand upon which he
+might be riding. He slept, too, without dreams, and without awakening
+until the morning, when he shared a solid breakfast with the family.
+
+Dick obtained at the farmhouse a fresh supply of cold food for his
+saddle bags, to be held against an emergency, although it was likely now
+that he could obtain all he needed at houses as he passed. Receiving the
+good wishes of his hosts he rode on through the hills. The intense
+cold which kept troops from marching much really served him, as the
+detachments about the little towns stayed in their camps.
+
+The day was quite clear, with the mercury still well below zero, but his
+heavy clothing kept him warm and comfortable. His great horse showed no
+signs of weariness. Apparently his sinews were made of steel.
+
+Noon came, but Dick did not seek any farmhouse for what was called
+dinner in that region. Instead he ate from his saddle bags as he rode
+on. He did not wish to waste time, and, moreover, he had taken his
+resolution. 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 all
+other young Kentuckians he was a great horseman, and with Harry Kenton
+and other lads of his age he had ridden nearly everywhere in a circuit
+of thirty miles around Pendleton.
+
+It was with many a throb of the heart that he now recognized familiar
+scenes. He knew the fields, the forests and the houses. But he was glad
+that the night had come. Others would know him, and he did not wish to
+be seen when he rode on such an errand. He had been saving his horse in
+the afternoon, but now he pushed him forward at a much faster gait. The
+great horse responded willingly and Dick felt the powerful body working
+beneath him, smooth and tireless like a perfect machine.
+
+He passed nobody on the road. People hugged their fires on such a cold
+night, and he rode hour after hour without interruption. It was nearly
+midnight when he stopped on a high hill, free of forest, and looked down
+upon Pendleton. The wonderful clearness of the winter night helped him.
+All the stars known to man were out, and helped to illuminate the world
+with a clear but cold radiance.
+
+Although a long distance away Dick could see Pendleton clearly. There
+was 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 the
+steeples of the churches, the white pillars of the court house, and off
+to one side the academy in which he and Harry Kenton had gone to school
+together. He saw further away Colonel Kenton's own house on another
+hill. It, too, had porticos, supported by white pillars which gleamed in
+the moonlight.
+
+Then his eyes traveled again around the half circle before him. The
+place for which he was looking could not be seen. But he knew that it
+would be so. It was a low house, and the evergreens about it, the pines
+and cedars would hide it at any time. But he knew the exact spot, and he
+wanted 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 came
+from him. But it was not a sob of unhappiness. He clucked to his horse
+and turned from the main road into a narrower one that led by the low
+house among the evergreens. Yet he was a boy of powerful will, and
+despite his eagerness, he restrained his horse and advanced very slowly.
+Sometimes he turned the animal upon the dead turf by the side of the
+road in order that his footsteps might make no sound.
+
+He drew slowly nearer, and when he saw the roof and eaves of the low
+house among the evergreens the great pulse in his throat leaped so hard
+that it was almost unbearable. He reached the edge of the lawn that
+came down to the road, and hidden by the clipped cone of a pine he saw a
+faint 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 him
+perfectly.
+
+“Be quiet, old fellow,” he whispered, stroking the great intelligent
+head. “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 paused
+just 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 second
+story. It came from her window and her room. Doubtless she was thinking
+at that very moment of him. His throat ached and tears came into his
+eyes. The light, clear and red, shone steadily from the window and made
+a band across the lawn.
+
+He picked a handful of sand from the walk that led to the front door
+and threw it against the window. He knew that she was brave and would
+respond, but waiting only a moment or two he threw a second handful
+fully and fairly against the glass.
+
+The lower half of the window was thrown open and a head appeared, where
+the moonlight fell clearly upon it. It was the head of a beautiful
+woman, framed in thick, silken yellow hair, the eyes deep blue, and the
+skin of the wonderful fairness so often found in that state. The face
+was that of a woman about thirty-seven or eight years of age, and
+without a wrinkle or flaw.
+
+“Mother!” called Dick in a low voice as he stepped from the shadow of
+the 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 from
+the room, down the stairway, and along the hall to the door, which she
+threw open. The next instant Mrs. Mason had her son in her arms.
+
+“Oh, Dick, Dicky, boy, how did you come!” she exclaimed. “You were here
+under 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. Dick
+loved his beautiful young mother devoutly, and her widowhood had bound
+them all the more closely together.
+
+“I've come a long distance, and I've come in many ways, mother,” he
+replied, “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 the
+biggest horses you ever saw, and he's tied now between two of the pine
+trees. Come, we must go in the house. It's too cold for you out here. Do
+you know that the mercury is about ten degrees below zero.”
+
+“What a man you have grown! Why, you must be two inches taller than you
+were, when you went away, and how sunburned and weather-beaten you are,
+too! Oh, Dicky, this terrible, terrible war! Not a word from you in
+months has got through to me!”
+
+“Nor a word from you to me, mother, but I have not suffered so much so
+far. I was at Bull Run, where we lost, and I was at Mill Spring, where
+we 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, your
+hands are growing cold.”
+
+They went in at the door, and closed it behind them. But there was
+another faithful soul on guard that night. In the dusky hail loomed a
+gigantic 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 you
+two 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 true
+as steel. She rejoiced in her flowery name, as many other colored women
+rejoiced in theirs, but her heart inhabited exactly the right spot in
+her huge anatomy. She drew mother and son into the sitting-room, where
+low coals still burned on the hearth. Then she went up to Mrs. Mason's
+bedroom and put out the light, after which she came back to the
+sitting-room, and, standing by a window in silence, watched over the two
+over 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 the
+battle at Mill Spring, has trusted me. I bear a dispatch of great
+importance. It is to go to General Buell, and it has to do with the
+gathering of the Union troops in the western and southern parts of our
+state, 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 minutes
+even for you.”
+
+“I suppose it is so. But oh, Dicky, won't this terrible war be over
+soon?”
+
+“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 it
+is awful that our people should be arrayed so against one another. There
+is 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 face
+to face in the smoke. But it was only for an instant. Then the smoke
+rushed 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 to
+watch over us here. Pendleton is strongly Southern as you know, but
+nobody would do us any harm, unless it was the rough people from the
+hills.”
+
+Colonel Kenton's wife had been Mrs. Mason's elder sister, and Dick, as
+he also sat staring into the coals, wondered why people who were united
+so closely should yet be divided so much.
+
+“Mother,” he said, “when I came through the mountains with my friends we
+stopped at a house in which lived an old, old woman. She must have
+been nearly a hundred. She knew your ancestor and mine, the famous and
+learned Paul Cotter, from whom you and I are descended, and she also
+knew 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 to
+join Beauregard before Bull Run, stopped at the same house, and when
+she first saw him she only looked into the far past. She thought it was
+Henry Ware himself, and she saluted him as the governor. What do you
+think of that, mother?”
+
+“It's a startling coincidence.”
+
+“But may it not be an omen? I'm not superstitious, mother, but when
+things come together in such a queer fashion it's bound to make you
+think. When Harry's paths and mine cross in such a manner maybe it means
+that 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 a
+tray, 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 never
+betray the trust that General Thomas has put in me. My dispatches
+not only tell of the gathering of our own troops, but they contain
+invaluable information concerning the Confederate concentration which
+General Thomas learned from his scouts and spies. Mother, I think a
+great 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 your
+general, and that you ride upon such an important errand. I should have
+been glad if you had stayed at home, Dick, but since you have chosen to
+be a soldier, I am rejoiced that you have risen in the esteem of your
+officers. Write to me as often as you can. Maybe none of your letters
+will 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. I
+must say good-bye now to you and Juliana.”
+
+The two women followed him down the lawn to the point where his horse
+was hitched between the two big pines. Mrs. Mason patted the horse's
+great head and murmured to him to carry her son well.
+
+“Did you ever see a finer horse, mother?” said Dick proudly. “He's the
+very pick of the army.”
+
+He threw his arms around her neck, kissed her more than once, sprang
+into the saddle and rode away in the darkness.
+
+The two women, the black and the white, sisters in grief, and yet happy
+that he had come, went slowly back into the house to wait, while the
+boy, a man's soul in him, strode on to war.
+
+Dick was far from Pendleton when the dawn broke, and now he had full
+need of caution. His horse was bearing him fast into debatable ground,
+where every man suspected his neighbor, and it remained for force alone
+to tell to which side the region belonged. But the extreme delicacy of
+the tension came to Dick's aid. People hesitated to ask questions, lest
+questions equally difficult be asked of them in return. It was a great
+time to mind one's own business.
+
+He rode on, fortune with him for the present, and his course was still
+west slightly by north. He slept under roofs, and he learned that in
+the country into which he had now come the Union sympathizers were more
+numerous than the Confederate. The majority of the Kentuckians, whatever
+their personal feelings, were not willing to shatter the republic.
+
+He heard definitely that here in the west the North was gathering armies
+greater than any that he had supposed. Besides the troops from the three
+states just across the Ohio River the hardy lumbermen and pioneers
+were pouring down from Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota. Hunters
+in deerskin suits and buffalo moccasins had already come from the far
+Nebraska 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 half
+as many more went away to the Southern armies, particularly to the one
+under the brilliant and daring Albert Sidney Johnston, which hung
+a sinister menace before the Northern front. One hundred and twenty
+thousand troops sent to the two armies by a state that contained but
+little more than a million people! It was said at the time that as
+Kentucky went, so would go the fortunes of the Union and in the end it
+was 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. Again
+and again he felt of that little inside pocket of his vest to see that
+it 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 to
+fall. But he did not mind it. The powerful horse that had borne him so
+well carried him safely on to his destination, and before the sundown
+of that day the young messenger was standing before General Don Carlos
+Buell, one of the most puzzling characters whom he was to meet in the
+whole course of the war. He had found Thomas a silent man, but he found
+Buell even more so. He received Dick in an ordinary tent, thanked him
+as 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 did
+not 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 I
+were too hard pressed.”
+
+“He tells us that Johnston is preparing for some great blow and he
+gives the numbers and present location of the hostile forces. Valuable
+information for us, if it is used. You have done well, Mr. Mason. To
+what force were you attached?”
+
+“A small division of Pennsylvania troops under Major Hertford. They were
+to 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 that
+General Grant will need all the men whom he can get. A detachment leaves
+here early in the morning for Elizabethtown, where it takes the train
+for Louisville, proceeding thence by water to Cairo. You shall go with
+these men. They are commanded by Colonel Winchester. You may go now, Mr.
+Mason.”
+
+He turned back to his papers and Dick, thinking his manner somewhat
+curt, left his tent. But he was pleased to hear that the detail
+was commanded by Colonel Winchester. Arthur Winchester was a man of
+forty-one or two who lived about thirty miles north of Pendleton. He was
+a great landowner, of high character and pleasant manners. Dick had met
+him frequently in his childhood, and the Colonel received him with much
+warmth.
+
+“I'm glad to know, Dick,” he said familiarly, “that you're going with
+us. I'm fond of Pendleton, and I like to have one of the Pendleton boys
+in my command. If all that we hear of this man Grant is true, we'll see
+action, action hot and continuous.”
+
+They rode to Elizabethtown, where Dick was compelled to leave his great
+horse for Buell's men, and went by train to Louisville, going thence
+by steamer down the Ohio River to Cairo, at its junction with the
+Mississippi, where they stood at last in the presence of that general
+whose 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 of
+the general who had already done much to strengthen the Union cause
+in the west, and he found him the plainest and simplest of men, under
+forty, short in stature, and careless in attire. He thanked Colonel
+Winchester for the reinforcement that he had brought him, and then
+turned with some curiosity to Dick.
+
+“So you were at the battle of Mill Spring,” he said. “It was hot, was it
+not?”
+
+“Hot enough for me,” replied Dick frankly.
+
+Grant laughed.
+
+“They caught a Tartar in George Thomas,” he said, “and I fancy that
+others 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 situation
+in Eastern Kentucky, and Dick noticed that all were sharp and
+penetrating.
+
+“Your former immediate commander, Major Hertford, and some of his men
+are due here today,” said Grant. “General Thomas, knowing that his own
+campaign was over, sent them north to Cincinnati and they have come down
+the river to Cairo. When they reach here they will be attached to the
+regiment of Colonel Winchester.”
+
+Dick was overjoyed. He had formed a strong liking for Major Hertford and
+he was quite sure that Warner and Sergeant Whitley would be with him.
+Once more they would be reunited, reunited for battle. He could not
+doubt that they would go to speedy action as the little town at the
+junction of the mighty rivers resounded with preparation.
+
+When Colonel Winchester and the boy had saluted and retired from General
+Grant's tent they saw the smoke pouring from the funnels of numerous
+steamers in the Mississippi, and they saw thousands of troops encamped
+in tents along the shores of both the Ohio and Mississippi. Heavy cannon
+were drawn up on the wharves, and ammunition and supplies were being
+transferred from hundreds of wagons to the steamers. It was evident to
+any one that this expedition, whatever it might be, was to proceed by
+water. It was a land of mighty rivers, close together, and a steamer
+might go anywhere.
+
+As Dick and Colonel Winchester, on whose staff he would now be, were
+watching this active scene, a small steamer, coming down the Ohio, drew
+in to a wharf, and a number of soldiers in faded blue disembarked. The
+boy uttered a shout of joy.
+
+“What is it, Dick?” asked Colonel Winchester.
+
+“Why, sir, there's my former commander, Colonel Newcomb, and just behind
+him is my comrade, Lieutenant George Warner of Vermont, and not far away
+is Sergeant Whitley, late of the regular army, one of the best soldiers
+in the world. Can I greet them, colonel?”
+
+“Of course.”
+
+Dick rushed forward and saluted Colonel Newcomb, who grasped him warmly
+by the hand.
+
+“So you got safely through, my lad,” he said. “Major Hertford, who came
+down the Kentucky with his detachment and joined us at Carrollton at the
+mouth of that river, told us of your mission. The major is bringing up
+the rear of our column, but here are other friends of yours.”
+
+Dick the next moment was wringing the hand of the Vermont boy and was
+receiving an equally powerful grip in return.
+
+“I believed that we would meet you here,” said Warner, “I calculated
+that with your courage, skill and knowledge of the country the chances
+were 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 per
+cent of the circumstances would represent your desire and effort to come
+here. That was a net percentage of seventy-two in favor of meeting you
+here in Cairo, and the seventy-two per cent has prevailed, as it usually
+does.”
+
+“Nothing is so bad that it can't be worse,” said Sergeant Whitley, as
+he too gave Dick's hand an iron grasp, “and I knew that when we lost you
+we'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,” said
+Warner. “We hear that this man Grant is a restless sort of a person who
+thinks 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 welcome
+that warmed his heart. But the boy did not get to remain long with his
+old comrades. The Pennsylvania regiment had been much cut down through
+the necessity of leaving detachments as guards at various places along
+the river, but it was yet enough to make a skeleton and its entity was
+preserved, forming a little eastern band among so many westerners.
+
+Dick, at General Grant's order, was transferred permanently to the staff
+of Colonel Winchester, and he and the other officers slept that night
+in a small building in the outskirts of Cairo. He knew that a great
+movement was at hand, but he was becoming so thoroughly inured to danger
+and hardship that he slept soundly all through the night.
+
+They heard early the next morning the sound of many trumpets and Colonel
+Winchester's regiment formed for embarkation. All the puffing steamers
+were now in the Ohio, and Dick saw with them many other vessels which
+were not used for carrying soldiers. He saw broad, low boats, with
+flat bottoms, their sides sheathed in iron plates. They were floating
+batteries moved by powerful engines beneath. Then there were eight huge
+mortars, a foot across the muzzle, every one mounted separately upon a
+strong barge and towed. Some of the steamers were sheathed in iron also.
+
+Dick's heart throbbed hard when he saw the great equipment. The fighting
+ships were under the command of Commodore Foote, an able man, but
+General Grant and his lieutenants, General McClernand and General Smith,
+commanded the army aboard the transports. On the transport next to them
+Dick saw the Pennsylvanians and he waved his hand to his friends who
+stood on the deck. They waved back, and Dick felt powerfully the sense
+of 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 many
+of her cabins had been torn away to make more room for the troops who
+would sleep in rows on her decks, as thick as buffaloes in a herd. The
+soldiers, like all the others whom he saw, were mostly boys. The average
+could not be over twenty, and some were not over sixteen. But they had
+the adaptability of youth. They had scattered themselves about in easy
+positions. One was playing an accordion, and another a fiddle. The
+officers did not interrupt them.
+
+As Dick looked over the side at the yellow torrent some one said beside
+him:
+
+“This is a whopping big river. You don't see them as deep as this where
+I come from.”
+
+Dick glanced at the speaker, and saw a lad of about his own age, of
+medium height, but powerfully built, with shoulders uncommonly thick.
+His face was tanned brown, but his eyes were blue and his natural
+complexion was fair. He was clad completely in deerskin, mocassins
+on his feet and a raccoon skin cap on his head. Dick had noticed the
+Nebraska hunters in such garb, but he was surprised to see this boy
+dressed 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 the
+Nebraska hunters. So I am, but I'm a Kentuckian, too, and I've a right
+to a place with you fellows. My name is Frank Pennington. I was born
+about forty miles north of Pendleton, but when I was six months old my
+parents went out on the plains, where I've hunted buffalo, and where
+I've fought Indians, too. But I'm a Kentuckian by right of birth just as
+you are, and I asked to be assigned to the regiment raised in the region
+from which we came.”
+
+“And mighty welcome you are, too,” said Dick, offering his hand. “You
+belong with us, and we'll stick together on this campaign.”
+
+The two youths, one officer and one private, became fast friends in
+a moment. Events move swiftly in war. Both now felt the great engines
+throbbing faster beneath them, and the flotilla, well into the mouth of
+the Ohio, was leaving the Mississippi behind them. But the Ohio here
+for a distance is apparently the mightier stream, and they gazed with
+interest 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, and
+cold winds swept down from the Illinois prairies. Cairo had been left
+behind and there was no sign of human habitation. Some wild fowl,
+careless of winter, flew over the stream, dipped toward the water, and
+then flew away again.
+
+As far as the eye was concerned the wilderness circled about them and
+enclosed them. The air was cold and flakes of snow dropped upon the
+decks and the river, but were gone in an instant. The skies were an
+unbroken sheet of gray. The scene so lonely and desolate contained a
+majesty that impressed them all, heightened for these youths by the
+knowledge that many of them were going on a campaign from which they
+would 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 on
+Tennessee River pilots, and I'm sure that we'll turn into the mouth of
+that river at Paducah. I infer that we're to attack Fort Henry, which
+the Confederates have erected some distance up the Tennessee to guard
+that 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 on
+low, marshy ground facing the Tennessee, and that it contains seventeen
+big 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've
+been in battle only once--at Columbus--but the Johnny Rebs don't give up
+forts in a hurry.”
+
+“There's another fort, a much bigger one, named Donelson, on the
+Cumberland,” said Dick. “Both the forts are in Tennessee, but as the two
+rivers run parallel here in the western parts of the two states, Fort
+Donelson and Fort Henry are not far apart. I risk a guess that we attack
+both.”
+
+“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 fellows
+in the ranks soon learn what kind of a man is over us. I suppose
+it's like the horse feeling through the bit the temper of his rider.
+President Lincoln has stationed General Halleck at St. Louis with
+general command here in the West. General Halleck thinks that General
+Grant is a meek subordinate without ambition, and will always be sending
+back 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 this
+campaign home, and that he'll soon be where he can't get instructions
+from General Halleck?”
+
+“Looks that way to a man up a tree,” said Pennington slowly, and
+solemnly winking his left eye.
+
+They were officer and private, but they were only lads together, and
+they talked freely with each other. Dick, after a while, returned to his
+commanding officer, Colonel Winchester, but there was little to do, and
+he sat on the deck with him, looking out over the fleet, the transports,
+the floating batteries, the mortar boats, and the iron-clads. He saw
+that the North, besides being vastly superior in numbers and resources,
+was the supreme master on the water through her equipment and the
+mechanical skill of her people. The South had no advantage save the
+defensive, and the mighty generals of genius who appeared chiefly on her
+Virginia line.
+
+Dick had inherited a thoughtful temperament from his famous ancestor,
+Paul Cotter, whose learning had appeared almost superhuman to the people
+of his time, and he was extremely sensitive to impressions. His mind
+would register them with instant truth. As he looked now upon this
+floating army he felt that the Union cause must win. On land the
+Confederates might be invincible or almost so, but the waters of the
+rivers and the sea upheld the Union cause.
+
+The fleet steamed on at an even pace. Foote, the commodore who
+had daringly reconnoitered Fort Henry from a single gunboat in the
+Tennessee, managed everything with alertness and skill. The transports
+were in the center of the stream. The armed and armored vessels kept on
+the flanks.
+
+The river, a vast yellow sheet, sometimes turning gray under the gray,
+wintry skies, seemed alone save for themselves. Not a single canoe or
+skiff disturbed its surface. Toward evening the flakes of snow came
+again, and the bitter wind blew once more from the Illinois prairies.
+All the troops who were not under shelter were wrapped in blankets
+or overcoats. Dick and the colonel, with the heavy coats over their
+uniforms, 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 distance
+up that stream.”
+
+“I've never seen the Tennessee.”
+
+“Though not the equal of the Ohio, it would be called a giant river in
+many countries. The whole fleet, if it wanted to do it, could go up
+it hundreds of miles. Why, Dick, these boats can go clear down into
+Alabama, into the very heart of the Confederacy, into the very state at
+the capital of which Jefferson Davis was inaugurated President of the
+seceding states.”
+
+“I was thinking of that some time ago,” said Dick. “The water is with
+us.”
+
+“Yes, the water is with us, and will stay with us.”
+
+They were silent a little while longer and watched the coming of the
+early winter twilight over the waters and the lonely land. The sky was
+so heavy with clouds that the gray seemed to melt into the brown. The
+low banks slipped back into the dark. They saw only the near surface
+of the river, the dark hulls of the fleet, occasional showers of sparks
+from smoke stacks, and an immense black cloud made by the smoke of the
+fleet, trailing behind them far down the river.
+
+“Dick,” said Colonel Winchester suddenly, “as you came across Kentucky
+from Mill Spring, and passed so near Pendleton it must have been a great
+temptation to you to stop and see your mother.”
+
+“It was. It was so great that I yielded to it. I was at our home about
+midnight for nearly an hour. I hope I did nothing wrong, colonel.”
+
+“No, Dick, my boy. Some martinets might find fault with you, but I
+should blame you had you not stopped for those few moments. A noble
+woman, your mother, Dick. I hope that she is watched over well.”
+
+Dick glanced at the colonel, but he could not see his face in the
+deepening twilight.
+
+“My uncle, Colonel Kenton, has directed his people to give her help in
+case of need,” he replied, “but that means physical help against raiders
+and guerillas. Otherwise she has sufficient for her support.”
+
+“That is well. War is terrible on women. And now, Dick, my lad, we'll
+get our supper. This nipping air makes me hungry, and the Northern
+troops do not suffer for lack of food.”
+
+The officers ate in one of the cabins, and when the supper was finished
+deep 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 army
+was still around him, driven on by the will of one man, deep into the
+country of the foe.
+
+The decks, every foot of plank it seemed, were already covered with
+the sleeping boys, wrapped in their blankets and overcoats. He saw his
+friend, 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 stars
+came out. Then he retired to one of the cabins, which he shared with
+three or four others, and slept soundly until he was aroused for
+breakfast. He had not undressed, and, bathing his face, he went out at
+once 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 town
+of Paducah--now an important city--at its mouth. It was not so broad as
+the Ohio, but it was broad, nevertheless, and it had the aspect of great
+depth. But here, as on the Ohio, they seemed to be steaming through the
+wilderness. The banks were densely wooded, and the few houses that may
+have been near were hidden by the trees. No human beings appeared upon
+the banks.
+
+Dick knew why the men did not come forth to see the ships. The
+southwestern part of the state, the old Jackson's Purchase, and the
+region immediately adjacent, was almost solidly for the South. They
+would not find here that division of sentiment, with the majority
+inclined to the North, that prevailed in the higher regions of Kentucky.
+The country itself was different. It was low and the waters that came
+into the Tennessee flowed more sluggishly.
+
+But Dick was sure that keen eyes were watching the fleet from the
+undergrowth, and he had no doubt that every vessel had long since been
+counted and that every detail of the fleet had been carried to the
+Southern 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 two
+later, stopped at a little landing, and many of the lads would gladly
+have gone ashore for a few moments, risking possible sharpshooters in
+the woods, but not one was allowed to leave the vessels. But Dick's
+steamer lay so close to the one carrying the Pennsylvanians that he
+could talk across the few intervening feet of water with Warner and
+Whitley. He also took the opportunity to introduce his new friend
+Pennington, of Nebraska.
+
+“Are you the son of John Pennington, who lived for a little while at
+Fort 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 and
+often we helped the pioneers against the Indians. I remember being
+in one fight with him against the Sioux on the Platte, and in another
+against the Northern Cheyennes in the Jumping Sand Hills.”
+
+“Hurrah!” cried Pennington. “I'm sorry I can't jump over a section of
+the Tennessee River and shake hands with you.”
+
+“We'll have our chance later,” said the sergeant. At that moment the
+fleet started again, and the boats swung apart. Through Dick's earnest
+solicitation young Pennington was taken out of the ranks and attached
+to the staff of Colonel Winchester as an orderly. He was well educated,
+already a fine campaigner, and beyond a doubt he would prove extremely
+useful.
+
+They steamed the entire day without interruption. Now and then the river
+narrowed and they ran between high banks. The scenery became romantic
+and beautiful, but always wild. The river, deep at any time, was now
+swollen fifteen feet more by floods on its upper courses, and the water
+always lapped at the base of the forest.
+
+Dick and Pennington, standing side by side, saw the second sun set over
+their voyage, and it was as wild and lonely as the first. There was a
+yellow river again, and hills covered with a bare forest. Heavy gray
+clouds trooped across the sky, and the sun was lost among them before it
+sank behind the hills in the west.
+
+Dick and Pennington, wrapped in their blankets and overcoats, slept upon
+the deck that night, with scores of others strewed about them. They were
+awakened after eleven o'clock by a sputter of rifle shots. Dick sat up
+in a daze and heard a bullet hum by his ear. Then he heard a powerful
+voice shouting: “Down! Down, all of you! It's only some skirmishers in
+the woods!” Then a cannon on one of the armor clads thundered, and
+a shell ripped its way through the underbrush on the west bank. Many
+exclamations 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 sprang
+erect and assisted the senior officers in compelling the others to lie
+flat 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 Southern
+band. Three or four more shells raked the woods, and then there was no
+reply.
+
+The boats steamed steadily on. Only one or two of the young soldiers
+had been hurt and they but lightly. All rolled themselves again in their
+blankets 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 to
+find hundreds of sheeted and silent white forms lying motionless upon
+the deck. Snow was falling swiftly out of a dark sky, and the fleet
+was moving slowly. In the darkness and stillness the engines throbbed
+powerfully, and the night was lighted fitfully by the showers of sparks
+that gushed now and then from the smoke stacks.
+
+Dick thought of rising and brushing the snow from his blankets, but he
+was so warm inside them that he yawned once or twice and went to sleep
+again. When he awoke it was morning again, the snow had ceased and the
+men were brushing it from themselves and the decks.
+
+The young soldiers, as they ate breakfast, spoke of the rifle shots that
+had been fired at them the night before and, since little damage had
+been done, they appreciated the small spice of danger. The wildness
+and mystery of their situation appealed to them, too. They were like
+explorers, penetrating new regions.
+
+“To most of us it's something like the great plains,” said Pennington
+to 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 a
+pleasure 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 to
+the 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. Now
+and then small bands of Confederate skirmishers sent rifle shots from
+high points along the bank toward the fleet, but they did no damage and
+the 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 in
+the middle of the river. A thrill of excitement ran through the
+army when the news filtered from ship to ship that they were now in
+Tennessee, and that Fort Henry, which they were to attack, was just
+ahead.
+
+Nevertheless, they seemed to be yet in the wilderness. The Tennessee, in
+flood, spread its yellow waters through forest and undergrowth, and the
+chill gray sky still gave a uniform somber, gray tint to everything.
+Bugles blew in the boats, and every soldier began to put himself and
+his weapons in order. The command to make a landing had been given, and
+Commodore 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 landing
+of a great army under fire would be impossible, but now they chose their
+own time and went about it unvexed.
+
+A place was found at last, a rude wharf was constructed hastily, and the
+fleet disgorged the army, boat by boat. Vast quantities of stores and
+heavy cannon were also brought ashore. Despite the cold, Dick and his
+comrades perspired all the morning over their labors and were covered
+with mud when the camp was finally constructed at some distance back of
+the Tennessee, on the high ground beyond the overflow. The transports
+remained at anchor, but the fighting boats were to drop down the stream
+and attack the fort at noon the next day from the front, while the army
+assailed it at the same time from the rear.
+
+The detachment of Pennsylvanians was by the side of Colonel Winchester's
+Kentucky regiment, and Colonel Newcomb and his staff messed with Colonel
+Winchester and his officers. There was water everywhere, and before they
+ate they washed the mud off themselves as best they could.
+
+“I suppose,” said Warner, “that seventy per cent of our work henceforth
+will be marching through the mud, and thirty per cent of it will be
+fighting the rebels in Fort Henry. I hear that we're not to attack until
+tomorrow, so I mean to sleep on top of a cannon tonight, lest I sink out
+of sight in the mud while I'm asleep.”
+
+“There's some pleasure,” said Pennington, “in knowing that we won't die
+of thirst. You could hardly call this a parched and burning desert.”
+
+But as they worked all the remainder of the day on the construction of
+the camp, they did not care where they slept. When their work was
+over they simply dropped where they stood and slumbered soundly until
+morning.
+
+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 was
+hampered by the terrible weather and the vast swamp through which its
+course must lead. Colonel Winchester, who knew the country better
+than any other high officer, was sent ahead on horseback with a small
+detachment 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 a
+hundred men.
+
+Dick and the other lads rejoiced over their mission. It was better to
+ride ahead than to remain with an army that was pulling itself along
+slowly through the mud. The fort itself was only about three miles away,
+and as it stood upon low, marshy ground, the backwater from the flooded
+Tennessee 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 water
+before they came within the sight of the fort, and then Dick's watch
+told him that it was nearly noon, the time for the concerted attacks of
+army and fleet. But it was certain now that the army could not get up
+until 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 height
+outside, connected with the fort, and as well as he could judge, the
+mass seemed to number three or four thousand men.
+
+“What does that mean?” he asked Colonel Winchester.
+
+“I surmise,” replied the colonel, “that Tilghman, the Confederate
+commander, is afraid his men may be caught in a trap. We know his troops
+are merely raw militia, and he has put them where they can retreat in
+case of defeat. He, himself, with his trained cannoneers, is inside the
+fort.”
+
+“There can be no attack until tomorrow,” said Colonel Newcomb. “It will
+be 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're
+right about the attack. Look what's coming up the river.”
+
+“The fleet!” exclaimed Newcomb in excitement. “As sure as I'm here it's
+the fleet, advancing to make the attack alone. Foote is a daring and
+energetic man, and the failure of the army to co-operate will not keep
+him back.”
+
+“Daring and energy, seventy per cent, at least,” Dick heard Warner
+murmur, but he paid no more attention to his comrades because all his
+interest was absorbed in the thrilling spectacle that was about to be
+unfolded before them.
+
+The fleet, the armor clads, the floating batteries, and the mortar
+boats, were coming straight toward the fort. Colonel Winchester lent
+Dick his glasses for a moment, and the boy plainly saw the great,
+yawning mouths of the mortars. Then he passed the glasses back to the
+colonel, 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 from
+one of the seventeen great guns in the fort. But it passed over the
+boat at which it was aimed, and a fountain of water spurted up where it
+struck. The other guns replied rapidly, and the fleet, with a terrific
+roar, replied. It seemed to Dick that the whole earth shook with the
+confusion. Through the smoke and flame he saw the water gushing up in
+fountains, and he also saw earth and masonry flying from the fort.
+
+“It's a fine fight,” said Colonel Winchester, suppressed excitement
+showing in his tone. “By George, the fleet is coming closer. Not a boat
+has been sunk! What a tremendous roar those mortars make. Look! One of
+their shells has burst directly on the fort!”
+
+The fleet, single handed, was certainly making a determined and powerful
+attack upon the fort, which standing upon low, marshy ground, was not
+much above the level of the boats, and offered a fair target to their
+great guns. Both fort and fleet were now enveloped in a great cloud of
+smoke, but it was repeatedly rent asunder by the flashing of the great
+guns, 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 were
+crowding closer and closer.
+
+The artillery kept up a steady crash now, punctuated by the hollow
+boom of the great mortars, which threw huge, curving shells. The smoke
+floated far up and down the river, and the Southern troops on the height
+adjoining 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 gunners
+inside the fort, only sixty in number, made the most heroic resistance.
+The armor clad boats were only six hundred yards away now, and were
+pouring upon them a perfect storm of fire.
+
+Their intrenchments, placed too low, gave them no advantage over the
+vessels. Shells and solid shot rained upon them. Some of the guns were
+exploded and others dismounted by this terrible shower, but they did not
+yet give up. As fast as they could load and fire the little band sent
+back their own fire at the black hulks that showed through the smoke.
+
+“The fleet will win,” Dick heard Colonel Winchester murmur. “Look how
+magnificently it is handled, and it converges closer and closer. A
+fortification located as this one is cannot stand forever a fire like
+that.”
+
+But the fleet was not escaping unharmed. A shell burst the boiler of the
+Essex, killing and wounding twenty-nine men. Nevertheless, the fire of
+the boats increased rather than diminished, and Dick saw that Colonel
+Winchester's words were bound to come true.
+
+Inside the fort there was only depression. It had been raked through
+by shells and solid shot. Most of the devoted band were wounded and
+scarcely a gun could be worked. Tilghman, standing amid his dead and
+wounded, saw that hope was no longer left, and gave the signal.
+
+Dick and his comrades uttered a great shout as they saw the white flag
+go up over Fort Henry, and then the cannonade ceased, like a mighty
+crash 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 flag
+floating 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 I
+wonder what General Grant will say when he learns that Foote has done
+the work before he could come.”
+
+But Dick believed that General Grant would find no fault, that he would
+approve instead. The feeling was already spreading among the soldiers
+that this man, whose name was recently so new among them, cared only
+for results. He was not one to fight over precedence and to feel petty
+jealousies.
+
+The smoke of battle was beginning to clear away. Officers were landing
+from the boats to receive the surrender of the fort, and Colonel
+Winchester and his troops galloped rapidly back toward the army, which
+they soon met, toiling through swamps and even through shallow overflow
+toward the Tennessee. The men had been hearing for more than an hour the
+steady booming of the cannon, and every face was eager.
+
+Colonel Winchester rode straight toward a short, thickset figure on a
+stout bay horse near the head of one of the columns. This man, like all
+the others, was plastered with mud, but Colonel Winchester gave him a
+salute 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 Southern
+force, 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 the
+General, who said:
+
+“Commodore Foote has done well. Ride back and tell him that the army is
+coming 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 so
+gallantly by the navy, and Grant, his generals, and Commodore Foote,
+were in anxious consultation. Most of the troops were soon camped on
+the height, where the Southern force had stood, and there was great
+exultation, but Dick, who had now seen so much, knew that the high
+officers 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 with
+it. It was likely that men who had been stationed at Henry had retreated
+there, and other formidable forces were marching to the same place. The
+Confederate commander, Johnston, after the destruction of his
+eastern wing at Mill Spring by Thomas, was drawing in his forces and
+concentrating. The news of the loss of Fort Henry would cause him to
+hasten his operations. He was rapidly falling back from his position
+at Bowling Green in Kentucky. Buckner, with his division, was about to
+march from that place to join the garrison in Donelson, and Floyd, with
+another division, would soon be on the way to the same point. Floyd had
+been the United States Secretary of War before secession, and the Union
+men hated him. It was said that the great partisan leader, Forrest, with
+his cavalry, was also at the fort.
+
+Much of this news was brought in by farmers, Union sympathizers, and
+Dick and his comrades, as they sat before the fires at the close of
+the short winter day, understood the situation almost as well as the
+generals.
+
+“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 build
+another fort anywhere they please along the Tennessee, and stop our
+fleet. This general of ours has a good notion of the value of time and
+a swift blow, and, although I'm neither a prophet nor the son of a
+prophet, I predict that he will attack Donelson at once by both land and
+water.”
+
+“How can he attack it by water?” asked Pennington. “The distance between
+them is not great, but our ships can't steam overland from the Tennessee
+to the Cumberland.”
+
+“No, but they can steam back up the Tennessee into the Ohio, thence to
+the mouth of the Cumberland, and down the Cumberland to Donelson. It
+would require only four or five days, and it will take that long for the
+army to invade from the land side.”
+
+Dick had his doubts about the ability of the army and the fleet to
+co-operate. Accustomed to the energy of the Southern commanders in the
+east he did not believe that Grant would be allowed to arrange things
+as he chose. But several days passed and they heard nothing from the
+Confederates, although Donelson was only about twenty miles away.
+Johnston himself, brilliant and sagacious, was not there, nor was his
+lieutenant, Beauregard, who had won such a great reputation by his
+victory at the first Bull Run.
+
+Dick was just beginning to suspect a truth that later on was to be
+confirmed fully in his mind. Fortune had placed the great generals of
+the Confederacy, with the exception of Albert Sidney Johnston, in the
+east, but it had been the good luck of the North to open in the west
+with its best men.
+
+Now he saw the energy of Grant, the short man of rather insignificant
+appearance. Boats were sent down the Tennessee to meet any
+reinforcements that might be coming, take them back to the Ohio, and
+thence into the Cumberland. Fresh supplies of ammunition and food were
+brought up, and it became obvious to Dick that the daring commander
+meant to attack Donelson, even should its garrison outnumber his own
+besieging force.
+
+Along a long line from Western Tennessee to Eastern Kentucky there was
+a mighty stir. Johnston had perceived the energy and courage of his
+opponent. He had shared the deep disappointment of all the Southern
+leaders when Kentucky failed to secede, but instead furnished so many
+thousands of fine troops to the Union army.
+
+Johnston, too, had noticed with alarm the tremendous outpouring of
+rugged 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 the
+bullets and shell, offered to them no hardships to which they were not
+used. They had often worked for days at a time up to their waists in icy
+water. They had endured thirty degrees below zero without a murmur, they
+had breasted blizzard and cyclone, they could live on anything, and they
+could 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 the
+Tennessee mountains, whom Johnston, who had all the qualities of a great
+commander, had to face. The forces against him were greatly superior
+in number. The eastern end of his line had been crushed already at
+Mill Spring, the extreme western end had suffered a severe blow at
+Fort Henry, but Jefferson Davis and the Government at Richmond expected
+everything of him. And he manfully strove to do everything.
+
+There was a mighty marching of men, some news of which came through to
+Dick and his comrades with Grant. Johnston with his main army, the very
+flower of the western South, fell back from Bowling Green, in Kentucky,
+toward Nashville, the capital of Tennessee. But Buckner, with his
+division, was sent from Bowling Green to help defend Donelson against
+the threatened attack by Grant, and he arrived there six days after the
+fall of Henry. On the way were the troops of Floyd, defeated in West
+Virginia, but afterwards sent westward. Floyd was at the head of them.
+Forrest, the great cavalry leader, was also there with his horsemen. The
+fort was crowded with defenders, but the slack Pillow did not yet send
+forward anybody to see what Grant was doing, although he was only twenty
+miles away.
+
+All eyes were now turned upon the west. The center of action had
+suddenly shifted from Kentucky to Tennessee. The telegraph was young
+yet, but it was busy. It carried many varying reports to the cities
+North and South. The name of this new man, Grant, spelled trouble.
+People were beginning to talk much about him, and already some suspected
+that there was more in the back of his head than in those of far better
+known and far more pretentious northern generals in the east. None at
+least could dispute the fact that he was now the one whom everybody was
+watching.
+
+But the Southern people, few of whom knew the disparity of numbers,
+had the fullest confidence in the brilliant Johnston. He was more than
+twenty years older than his antagonist, but his years had brought only
+experience and many triumphs, not weakness of either mind or body. At
+his right hand was the swarthy and confident Beauregard, great with
+the prestige of Bull Run, and Hardee, Bragg, Breckinridge and Polk. And
+there were many brilliant colonels, too, foremost among whom was George
+Kenton.
+
+A tremor passed through the North when it was learned that Grant
+intended to plunge into the winter forest, cross the Cumberland, and
+lay 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, away
+down there in the Confederacy. But others remembered his successes,
+particularly at Belmont and Fort Henry. They said that nothing could be
+won in war without risk, and they spoke of his daring and decision. They
+recalled, too, that he was master upon the waters, that there was no
+Southern fleet to face his, as it sailed up the Southern rivers. The
+telegraph was already announcing that the gunboats, which had been
+handled with such skill and courage, would be in the Cumberland ready to
+co-operate with Grant when he should move on Donelson.
+
+Buell was moving also to form another link in the steel chain that was
+intended to bind the Confederacy in the west. Here again the mastery of
+the rivers was of supreme value to the North. Buell embarked his army on
+boats on Green River in the very heart of Kentucky, descended that river
+to the Ohio, passing down the latter to Smithland, where the Cumberland,
+coming up from the south, entered it, and met another convoy destined
+for 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 and
+pioneers from Iowa, Nebraska, and Minnesota. They were all eager, full
+of enthusiasm, anxious to be led against the enemy, and confident of
+triumph.
+
+Grant and his army, meanwhile, lying in the bleak forest beside the
+Tennessee, knew little of what was being said of them in the great world
+without. All their thoughts were of Donelson, across there on the other
+river, and the men asked to be led against it. Inured to the hardships
+of border life, there was little sickness among them, despite the winter
+and the overflow of the flooded streams. They gathered the dead wood
+that littered the forest, built numerous fires, and waited as patiently
+as they could for the word to march.
+
+The Pennsylvanians were still camped with the Kentucky regiment to which
+Dick now belonged, and the fifth evening after the capture of Henry he
+and his friends sat by one of the big fires.
+
+“We'll advance either tomorrow or the next day,” said Warner. “The
+chances are at least ninety per cent in favor of my statement. What do
+you say, sergeant?”
+
+“I'd raise the ninety per cent to one hundred,” replied Whitley. “We are
+all ready an' as you've observed, gentlemen, General Grant is a man who
+acts.”
+
+“The Johnnies evidently expect us,” said Pennington. “Our scouts have
+seen their cavalry in the woods watching us, but only in the last day or
+two. 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 have
+quite an army at Donelson. General Grant will have his work cut out for
+him. The Johnnies, besides having their fort, can go into battle with
+just 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 small
+steamer, which had come on three rivers, the Green, the Ohio, and the
+Tennessee, and Dick, to his great surprise and delight, received a
+letter from his mother. He had written several letters himself, but he
+had no way of knowing until now that any of them had reached her. Only
+one had succeeded in getting through, and that had been written from
+Cairo.
+
+“My dearest son,” she wrote, “I am full of joy to know that you
+have reached Cairo in safety and in health, though I dread the great
+expedition upon which you say you are going. I hear in Pendleton many
+reports about General Grant. They say that he does not spare his men.
+The Southern sympathizers here say that he is pitiless and cares not how
+many thousands of his own soldiers he may sacrifice, if he only gains
+his aim. But of that I know not. I know it is a characteristic of our
+poor human nature to absolve one's own side and to accuse those on the
+other side.
+
+“I was in Pendleton this morning, and the reports are thick; thick from
+both Northerners and Southerners, that the armies are moving forward
+to a great battle. They have all marched south of us, and I do not know
+either whether these reports are true or false, though I fear that they
+are true. Your uncle, Colonel Kenton, is with General Johnston, and I
+hear 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 were
+to 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 own
+people. I have known Colonel Winchester a long time, and he has all the
+qualities that make a man, brave and gentle. I hope that you and he will
+become the best of friends.”
+
+There was much more in the letter, but it was only the little details
+that concern mother and son. Dick was sitting by the fire when he read
+it. Then he read it a second time and a third time, folded it very
+carefully and put it in the pocket in which he had carried the dispatch
+from General Thomas.
+
+Colonel Winchester was sitting near him, and Dick noticed again what
+a fine, trim man he was. Although a little over forty, his figure was
+still slender, and he had an abundant head of thick, vital hair. His
+whole 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 your
+command. She speaks very highly of you, sir, and my mother is a woman of
+uncommon penetration.”
+
+A faint red tinted the tanned cheeks of the colonel. Dick thought it was
+merely 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 tent
+of General Grant, where a conference of officers was to be held. Dick
+remained 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're
+going to lick the spots off us. They say they have a big army at
+Donelson, 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 great
+preparations to meet them, but, like the others, he was feeling
+the strong hand on the reins. He did not notice here the doubt and
+uncertainty that had reigned at Washington before the advance on
+Bull Run; in Grant's army were order and precision, and with perfect
+confidence in his commander he rolled himself in his blankets that night
+and went to sleep.
+
+The order to advance did not come the next morning, and Dick, for a few
+moments, thought it might not come at all. The reports from Donelson
+were of a formidable nature, and Grant's own army was not provided for a
+winter campaign. It had few wagons for food and ammunition, and some of
+the regiments from the northwest, cherishing the delusion that winter
+in Tennessee was not cold, were not provided with warm clothing and
+sufficient blankets.
+
+But Warner abated his confidence not one jot.
+
+“The chance of our moving against Donelson is one hundred per cent,” he
+said. “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. I
+still admit that the prophets and the sons of prophets live no more, but
+I predict with absolute certainty that we will move in the morning.”
+
+The Vermonter's faith was justified. The army, being put in thorough
+trim, started at dawn upon its momentous march. Wintry fogs were rising
+from the great river and the submerged lowlands, and the air was full of
+raw, penetrating chill. An abundant breakfast was served to everybody,
+and then with warmth and courage the lads of the west and northwest
+marched forward with eagerness to an undertaking which they knew would
+be far greater than the capture of Fort Henry.
+
+Dick and Pennington, as staff officers, were mounted, although the
+horses that had been furnished to them were not much more than ponies.
+Warner rode with Colonel Newcomb and Major Hertford, who led the slender
+Pennsylvania detachment beside the Kentucky regiment. Thus the army
+emerged from its camp and began the march toward the Cumberland. It was
+now about fifteen thousand strong, but it expected reinforcements, and
+its fleet held the command of the rivers.
+
+As they entered the leafless forest Dick saw ahead of them, perhaps
+a quarter of a mile away, a numerous band of horsemen wearing faded
+Confederate gray. They were the cavalry of Forrest, but they were too
+few to stay the Union advances. There was a scattered firing of rifles,
+but the heavy brigades of Grant moved steadily on, and pushed them out
+of the way. Forrest could do no more than gallop back to the fort with
+his men and report that the enemy was coming at last.
+
+“Those fellows ride well,” said Pennington, as the last of Forrest's
+cavalrymen passed out of sight, “and if we were not in such strong force
+I fancy they would sting us pretty hard.”
+
+“We'll see more of 'em,” said Dick. “This is the enemy's country, and we
+needn't think that we're going to march as easy as you please from one
+victory 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 real
+curious.”
+
+Their march across the woods suffered no further interruption. Sometimes
+they saw Confederate cavalrymen at a distance in front, but they did not
+try 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 stood
+by the Cumberland. At that very moment the troops under Floyd, just
+arrived, were crossing the river to join the garrison in the fortress.
+
+Dick looked upon extensive fortifications, a large fort, a redoubt upon
+slightly higher ground, other batteries at the water's edge, powerful
+batteries upon a semi-circular hill which could command the river for a
+long distance, and around all of these extensive works, several miles
+in length, including a deep creek on the north. Inside the works was the
+little town of Dover, and they were defended by fifteen thousand men, as
+many as Grant had without.
+
+When Dick beheld this formidable position bristling with cannon, rifles
+and bayonets, his heart sank within him. How could one army defeat
+another, as numerous as itself, inside powerful intrenchments, and in
+its own country? Nor could they prevent Southern reinforcements from
+reaching the other side of the river and crossing to the fort under the
+shelter of its numerous great guns. He was yet to learn the truth, or
+at least the partial truth, of Napoleon's famous saying, that in war an
+army is nothing, a man is everything. The army to which he belonged
+was led by a man of clear vision and undaunted resolution. The chief
+commander inside the fort had neither, and his men were shaken already
+by the news of Fort Henry, exaggerated in the telling.
+
+But after the first sinking of the heart Dick felt an extraordinary
+thrill. Sensitive and imaginative, he was conscious even at the moment
+that he looked in the face of mighty events. The things of the minute
+did 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 Grant
+I'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'd
+like to see the smoke of its funnels as the boats come steaming up the
+Cumberland.”
+
+Dick knew that the fleet was needed, not alone for encouragement and
+fighting help, but to supply an even greater want. Grant's army was
+short of both food and ammunition. The afternoon had turned warm, and
+many of the northwestern lads, still clinging to their illusions about
+the 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 and
+enfolded the whole fortress, save on the northern side where Hickman
+Creek flowed, deep and impassable. The general's own headquarters were
+due west of Fort Donelson, and Colonel Winchester's Kentucky regiment
+was stationed close by.
+
+Low campfires burned along the long line of the Northern army, and Dick
+and others who sat beside him saw many lights inside the great enclosure
+held by the South. An occasional report was heard, but it was only
+the pickets exchanging shots at long range and without hurt. Dick and
+Pennington wrapped their blankets about them and sat with their backs
+against a log, ready for any command from Colonel Winchester. Now and
+then they were sent with orders, because there was much moving to and
+fro, 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 rose
+from the Cumberland as they had risen from the Tennessee. This, too, was
+a great river. Dick was glad when the last of his errands was done, and
+he could come back to the fire, and rest his back once more against
+the log. The fire was only a bed of coals now, but they gave out much
+grateful heat.
+
+Dick could see General Grant's tent from where he sat. Officers of high
+rank were still entering it or leaving it, and he was quite sure that
+they were planning an attack on the morrow.
+
+But the idea of an assault did not greatly move him now. He was too
+tired and sleepy to have more than a vague impression of anything. He
+saw the coals glowing before him, and then he did not see them. He had
+gone sound asleep in an instant.
+
+The next morning was gray and troubled, with heavy clouds, rolling
+across the sky. The rising sun was blurred by them, and as the men ate
+their breakfasts some of the great guns from the fort began to fire at
+the presumptuous besieger. The heavy reports rolled sullenly over
+the desolate forests, but the Northern cannon did not yet reply. The
+Southern fire was doing no damage. It was merely a threat, a menace to
+those who should dare the assault.
+
+Colonel Winchester signalled to Dick and Pennington, and mounting their
+horses they rode with him to the crest of the highest adjacent hill.
+Presently General Grant came and with him were the generals, McClernand
+and Smith. Colonel Newcomb also arrived, attended by Warner. The high
+officers examined the fort a long time through their glasses, but Dick
+noticed that at times they watched the river. He knew they were looking
+there for the black plumes of smoke which should mark the coming of the
+steamers out of the Ohio.
+
+But nothing showed on the surface of the Cumberland. The river, dark
+gray under lowering clouds, flowed placidly on, washing the base of Fort
+Donelson. At intervals of a minute or two there was a flash of fire
+from the fort, and the menacing boom of the cannon rolled through the
+desolate forest. Now and then, a gun from one of the Northern batteries
+replied. But it was as yet a desultory battle, with much noise and
+little 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 the
+regiment to hold itself in complete readiness, although no action may
+come for some time. Then return here at once.”
+
+Dick rode back swiftly, but on his way he suddenly bent over his saddle
+bow. A shell from the fort screamed over his head in such a menacing
+fashion that it seemed to be only a few inches from him. But it passed
+on, leaving him unharmed, and burst three hundred yards away.
+
+Dick instantly straightened up in the saddle, looked around, breathed a
+sigh of relief when he saw that no one had noticed his sudden bow, and
+galloped on with the order. The lieutenant-colonel read it and nodded.
+Then Dick rode back to the hill where the generals were yet watching in
+vain 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 to
+Dick. “General Grant means to push things.”
+
+The desultory firing, those warning guns, ceased entirely, and for a
+while both armies stood in almost complete silence. Then a Northern
+battery on the right opened with a tremendous crash and the battle for
+Donelson had begun. A Southern battery replied at once and the firing
+spread along the whole vast curve. Shells and solid shot whistled
+through the air, but the troops back of the guns crouched in hasty
+entrenchments, and waited.
+
+The great artillery combat went on for some time. To many of the lads
+on either side it seemed for hours. Then the guns on the Northern side
+ceased suddenly, bugles sounded, and the regiments, drawn up in line,
+rushed at the outer fortifications.
+
+Colonel Winchester and his staff had dismounted, but Dick and
+Pennington, keeping by the colonel's side, drew their swords and rushed
+on shouting. The Southerners inside the fort fired their cannon as fast
+as they could now, and at closer range opened with the rifles. Dick
+heard 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 behind
+him were falling.
+
+The fire now grew so hot and deadly that the Union regiments were forced
+to give ground. It was evident that they could not carry the formidable
+earthworks, but on the right, where Dick's regiment charged, and just
+above the little town of Dover, they pressed in far enough to secure
+some hills that protected them from the fire of the enemy, and from
+which Southern cannon and rifles could not drive them. Then, at the
+order of Grant, his troops withdrew elsewhere and the battle of the
+day ceased. But on the low hills above Dover, which they had taken, the
+Union regiments held their ground, and from their position the Northern
+cannon could threaten the interior of the Southern lines.
+
+Dick's regiment stood here, and beside them were the few companies
+of Pennsylvanians so far from their native state. Neither Dick nor
+Pennington was wounded. Warner had a bandaged arm, but the wound was so
+slight that it would not incapacitate him. The officers were unhurt.
+
+“They've driven our army back,” said Pennington, “and it was not so hard
+for them to do it either. How can we ever defeat an army as large as our
+own 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 here
+a projection into the enemy's lines, and if those reinforcements come it
+will be thrust further and further? I tell you that general of ours is a
+bull 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 upon
+which the assault had taken place was within the sweep of the Southern
+guns. Some of the Northern wounded had crawled away or had been carried
+to their own camp, but others and the numerous dead still lay upon the
+ground.
+
+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 had
+dropped on the way or left at Fort Henry. Detachments were sent back to
+regain as many as possible, but long before they could return a sharp
+wind with an edge of ice sprang up, the clouds opened and great flakes
+poured down, driven into the eyes of the soldiers by the wind.
+
+The situation was enough to cause the stoutest heart to weaken, but the
+unflinching Grant held on. The Confederate army within the works was
+sheltered at least in part, but his own, outside, and with the desolate
+forest rimming it around, lay exposed fully to the storm. Dick, at
+intervals, saw the short, thickset figure of the commander passing among
+the men, and giving them orders or encouragement. Once he saw his
+face clearly. The lips were pressed tightly together, and the whole
+countenance expressed the grimmest determination. Dick was confirmed
+anew in his belief that the chief would never turn back.
+
+The spectacle, nevertheless, was appalling. The snow drove harder and
+harder. 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 the
+Southern cannon crashed at intervals, sending shells at random into
+the Union camp or over it. There was full need then for the indomitable
+spirit of Grant and those around him to encourage anew the thousands of
+boys who had so lately left the farms or the lumber yards.
+
+Dick and his comrades, careless of the risk, searched over the
+battlefield 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 deep
+that they knew many would never be found.
+
+Back beyond the range of the fort's cannon men were building fires with
+what wood they could secure from the forest. All the tents they had were
+set up, and the men tried to cook food and make coffee, in order that
+some degree of warmth and cheer might be provided for the army beset so
+sorely.
+
+The snow, after a while, slackening somewhat, was succeeded by cold much
+greater than ever. The shivering men bent over the fires and lamented
+anew the discarded blankets. Dick did not sleep an instant that terrible
+night. He could not. He, Pennington, and Warner, relieved from staff
+service, worked all through the cold and darkness, helping the wounded
+and seeking wood for the fires. And with them always was the wise
+Sergeant Whitley, to whom, although inferior in rank, they turned often
+and willingly for guidance and advice.
+
+“It's an awful situation,” said Pennington; “I knew that war would
+furnish horrors, but I didn't expect anything like this.”
+
+“But General Grant will never retreat,” said Dick. “I feel it in every
+bone of me. I've seen his face tonight.”
+
+“No, he won't,” said the experienced sergeant, “because he's making
+every preparation to stay. An' remember, Mr. Pennington, that while this
+is pretty bad, worse can happen. Remember, too, that while we can stand
+this, we can also stand whatever worse may come. It's goin' to be a
+fight 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, and
+the cold was at its height. Along a line of miles the fires burned and
+the men crowded about them. But Dick, who had been working on the snowy
+plain that was the battlefield, and who had heard many moans there, now
+heard none. All who lay in that space were sleeping the common sleep of
+death, their bodies frozen stiff and hard under the snow.
+
+Dick, sitting by one of the fires, saw the cold dawn come, and in those
+chill hours of nervous exhaustion he lost hope for a moment or two.
+How could anybody, no matter how resolute, maintain a siege without
+ammunition and without food. But he spoke cheerfully to Pennington and
+Warner, who had slept a little and who were just awakening.
+
+The pale and wintry sun showed the defiant Stars and Bars floating
+over Donelson, and Dick from his hill could see men moving inside the
+earthworks. Certainly the Southern flags had a right to wave defiance at
+the besieging army, which was now slowly and painfully rising from the
+snow, 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 another
+assault. It's hopeless.”
+
+“That's true,” said Warner, who was standing by, “but we--hark, what was
+that?”
+
+The boom of a cannon echoed over the fort and forest, and then another
+and another. To the northward they saw thin black spires of smoke under
+the horizon.
+
+“It's the fleet! It's the fleet!” cried Warner joyously, “coming up the
+Cumberland 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 the
+Southern water batteries replying.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE SOUTHERN ATTACK
+
+
+The excitement in the Union army was intense and joyous. The cheers
+rolled like volleys among these farmer lads of the West. Dick, Warner
+and Pennington stood up and shouted with the rest.
+
+“I should judge that our chances of success have increased at least
+fifty, yes sixty, per cent,” said Warner. “As we have remarked before,
+this control of the water is a mighty thing. We fight the Johnnie Rebs
+for 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 throughout
+its career, its daring and brilliant qualities. Foote, the commodore,
+although he had had no time to repair his four small fighting boats
+after the encounter with Fort Henry, steamed straight up the river
+and engaged the concentric fire from the great guns of the Southern
+batteries, which opened upon him with a tremendous crash. The boys
+watched the duel with amazement. They did not believe that small vessels
+could live under such fire, but live they did. Great columns of smoke
+floated over them and hid them at times from the watchers, but when the
+smoke lifted a little or was split apart by the shattering fire of the
+guns the black hulls of the gunboats always reappeared, and now they
+were 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 a
+powerful 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 your
+supposition,” said Warner.
+
+The sergeant's theory, in fact, was absolutely correct. Further down
+the river the transports were unloading regiment after regiment of
+fresh troops, and vast supplies of ammunition and provisions. Soon five
+thousand men were formed in line and marched to Grant's relief, while
+long lines of wagons brought up the stores so badly needed. Now the
+stern and silent general was able to make the investment complete, but
+the fiery little fleet did not cease to push the attack.
+
+There was a time when it seemed that the gunboats would be able to pass
+the fortress and rake it from a point up the river. Many of the guns in
+the water batteries had been silenced, but the final achievement was too
+great for so small a force. The rudder of one of Foote's gunboats was
+shot away, the wheel of another soon went the same way, and both drifted
+helplessly down the stream. The other two then retreated, and the fire
+of both fort and fleet ceased.
+
+But there was joy in the Union camp. The soldiers had an abundance
+of food now, and soon the long ring of fires showed that they were
+preparing it. Their forces had been increased a third, and there was a
+fresh outburst of courage and vigor. But Grant ordered no more attacks
+at present. After the men had eaten and rested a little, picks and
+spades were swung along a line miles in length. He was fortifying his
+own position, and it was evident to his men that he meant to stay there
+until he won or was destroyed.
+
+Dick was conscious once more of a sanguine thrill. Like the others, he
+felt the strong hand over him, and the certainty that they were led with
+judgment and decision made him believe that all things were possible.
+Yet the work of fortifying continued but a little while. The men were
+exhausted by cold and fatigue, and were compelled to lay down their
+tools. The fires were built anew, and they hovered about them for
+shelter and rest.
+
+The wan twilight showed the close of the wintry day, and with the
+increasing chill a part of Dick's sanguine feeling departed. The gallant
+little fleet, although it had brought fresh men and supplies and had
+protected their landing, had been driven back. The investment of the
+fort was complete only on one side of the river, and steamers coming up
+the Cumberland from Nashville might yet take off the garrison in safety.
+Then the work of the silent general, all their hardship and fighting
+would be at least in part a failure. The Vermont youth, who seemed to be
+always of the same temper, neither very high nor very low, noticed his
+change of expression.
+
+“Don't let your hopes decrease, Dick,” he said. “Remember that at least
+twenty 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 doing
+again, 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 Colonel
+Winchester, who overheard his closing words. “I want you three to go
+with me on a tour of inspection or rather scouting duty. It may please
+you to know that it is the special wish of General Grant. Aware that I
+had some knowledge of the country, he has detailed me for the duty, and
+I choose you as my assistants. I'm sure that the skill and danger such a
+task 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 four
+departed upon his perilous mission. He was to secure information in
+regard to the Southern army, and to do that they were to go very near
+the Southern lines, if not actually inside them. Such an attempt would
+be hazardous in the extreme in the face of a vigilant watch; but on the
+other hand they would be aided by the fact that both North and South
+were of like blood and language. Even more, many of those in the
+opposing camps came from the same localities, and often were of kin.
+
+Dick's regiment had been stationed at the southern end of the line, near
+the little town of Dover, but they now advanced northward and westward,
+marching for a long time along their inner line. It was Colonel
+Winchester's intention to reach Hickman Creek, which formed their
+northern barrier, creep in the fringe of bushes on its banks, and then
+approach the fort.
+
+When they reached the desired point the night was well advanced, and
+yet dark with the somber clouds hanging over river and fort and field
+of battle. The wind blew out of the northwest, sharp and intensely cold.
+The snow crunched under their feet. But the four had wrapped themselves
+in heavy overcoats, and they were so engrossed in their mission that
+neither wind nor snow was anything to them.
+
+They passed along the bank of the creek, keeping well within the shadow
+of 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 lights
+burning in the darkness, and at last they discerned dim figures walking
+back and forth. Dick knew that these were the Southern sentinels. The
+four went a little nearer, and then crouched down in the snow among some
+low bushes.
+
+Now they saw the Southern sentinels more distinctly. Some, in fact, were
+silhouetted sharply as they passed before the Southern fires. Northern
+sharpshooters could have crept up and picked off many of them, as the
+Southern sharpshooters in turn might have served many of the Northern
+watchers, but in this mighty war there was little of such useless and
+merciless enterprise. The men soon ceased to have personal animosity,
+and, in the nights between the great battles, when the armies yet
+lay face to face, the hostile pickets would often exchange gossip and
+tobacco. Even in a conflict waged so long and with such desperation the
+essential kindliness of human nature would assert itself.
+
+The four, as they skirted the Southern line, noticed no signs of further
+preparations by the Confederates. No men were throwing up earthworks or
+digging trenches. As well as they could surmise, the garrison, like the
+besieging army, was seeking shelter and rest, and from this fact the
+keen mind of Colonel Arthur Winchester divined that the defense was
+confused and headless.
+
+Colonel Winchester knew most of the leaders within Donelson. He knew
+that Pillow was not of a strong and decided nature. Nor was Floyd, who
+would rank first, of great military capacity. Buckner had talent and he
+had served gallantly in the Mexican War, but he could not prevail over
+the others. The fame of Forrest, the Tennessee mountaineer, was already
+spreading, but a cavalryman could do little for the defense of a fort
+besieged by twenty thousand well equipped men, led by a general of
+unexcelled resolution.
+
+All that Colonel Winchester surmised was true. Inside the fort confusion
+and doubt reigned. The fleeing garrison from Fort Henry had brought
+exaggerated reports of Grant's army. Very few of the thousands of young
+troops had ever been in battle before. They, too, suffered though in
+a less degree from cold and fatigue, but many were wounded. Pillow and
+Floyd, who had just arrived with his troops, talked of one thing and
+then another. Floyd, who might have sent word to his valiant and able
+chief, Johnston, did not take the trouble or forgot to inform him of his
+position. Buckner wanted to attack Grant the next morning with the full
+Southern strength, and a comrade of his on old battlefields, Colonel
+George Kenton, seconded him ably. The black-bearded Forrest strode back
+and forth, striking the tops of his riding boots with a small riding
+whip, and saying ungrammatically, but tersely and emphatically:
+
+“We mustn't stay here like hogs in a pen. We must git at 'em with all
+our men afore they can git at us.”
+
+The illiterate mountaineer and stock driver had evolved exactly the same
+principle of war that Napoleon used.
+
+But Colonel Winchester and his comrades could only guess at what was
+going on in Donelson, and a guess always remains to be proved. So they
+must continue their perilous quest. Once they were hailed by a Southern
+sentinel, but Colonel Winchester replied promptly that they belonged to
+Buckner's Kentuckians and had been sent out to examine the Union camp.
+He passed it off with such boldness and decision that they were gone
+before the picket had time to express a doubt.
+
+But as they came toward the center of the line, and drew nearer to the
+fort itself, they met another picket, who was either more watchful or
+more acute. He hailed them at a range of forty or fifty yards, and when
+Colonel Winchester made the same reply he ordered them to halt and give
+the countersign. When no answer came he fired instantly at the tall
+figure of Colonel Winchester and uttered a loud cry of, “Yankees!”
+
+Luckily the dim light was tricky and his bullet merely clipped the
+colonel's hair. But there was nothing for the four to do now save to run
+with all their undignified might for their own camp.
+
+“Come on, lads!” shouted Colonel Winchester. “Our scouting is over for
+the time!”
+
+The region behind them contained patches of scrub oaks and bushes, and
+with 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 and
+fell. The snow and the dead leaves hid the sound of his fall and
+the others did not notice it. As he looked up he saw their dim forms
+disappearing among the bushes. He rose to his own feet, but uttered
+a little cry as a ligament in his ankle sent a warning throb of pain
+through his body.
+
+It was not a wrench, only a bruise, and as he stretched his ankle a few
+times the soreness went away. But the last sound made by the retreating
+footsteps of his comrades had died, and their place had been taken by
+those of his pursuers, who were now drawing very near.
+
+Dick had no intention of being captured, and, turning off at a right
+angle, he dropped into a gully which he encountered among some bushes.
+The gully was about four feet deep and half full of snow. Dick threw
+himself full length on his side, and sank down in the snow until he was
+nearly covered. There he lay panting hard for a few moments, but quite
+sure that he was safe from discovery. Only a long and most minute
+search would be likely to reveal the dark line in the snow beneath the
+overhanging bushes.
+
+Dick's heart presently resumed its normal beat, and then he heard the
+sound 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 your
+heels.”
+
+The footsteps came nearer, crunching on the snow, which lay deep there
+among the bushes. They could not be more than a dozen feet away, but
+Dick quivered only a little. Buried as he was and with the hanging
+bushes over him he was still confident that no one could see him. He
+raised himself the least bit, and looking through the boughs, saw a
+tanned and dark face under the broad brim of a Confederate hat. Just
+then some one said:
+
+“We might have trailed 'em, general, but the snow an' the earth have
+already been tramped all up by the army.”
+
+“They're not wuth huntin' long anyway,” said the same brusque voice. “A
+few Yankees prowlin' about in the night can't do us much harm. It's hard
+fightin' that'll settle our quarrel.”
+
+General Forrest came a little closer and Dick, from his concealment
+in the snow, surmising his identity, saw him clearly, although himself
+unseen. He was fascinated by the stern, dark countenance. The face of
+the unlettered mountaineer was cut sharp and clear, and he had the look
+of 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 some
+one.
+
+“I think you're right as usual, General Forrest,” replied a voice with
+a cultivated intonation, and Dick started violently in his bed of snow,
+because he instantly recognized the voice as that of his uncle, Colonel
+George Kenton, Harry's father. A moment later Colonel Kenton himself
+stood where the moonlight fell upon his face. Dick saw that he was worn
+and thin, but his face had the strong and resolute look characteristic
+of those descended from Henry Ware, the great borderer.
+
+“You know, general, that I endorse all your views,” continued Colonel
+Kenton. “We are unfortunate here in having a division of counsels, while
+the Yankees have a single and strong head. We have underrated this man
+Grant. Look how he surprised us and took Henry! Look how he hangs on
+here! We've beaten him on land and we've driven back his fleet, but
+he hangs on. To my mind he has no notion of retreating. He'll keep on
+pounding us as long as we are here.”
+
+“That's his way, an' it ought to be the way of every general,” growled
+Forrest. “You cut down a tree by keepin' on cuttin' out chips with an
+axe, an' you smash up an army by hittin' an' hittin' an' keepin' on
+hittin'. We ought to charge right out of our works an' jump on the
+Yankees with all our stren'th.”
+
+The two walked on, followed by the soldiers who had come with them, and
+Dick 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 and
+heavy overcoat. Then he rose carefully, brushed off the snow, and began
+his retreat toward the Union lines. Four or five hundred yards further
+on and he met Colonel Winchester and his own comrades come back to
+search for him. They welcomed him joyfully.
+
+“We did not miss you until we were nearly to our own pickets,” said the
+colonel. “Then we concluded that you had fallen and had been taken
+by the enemy, but we intended to see if we could find you. We've been
+hovering about here for some time.”
+
+Dick told what he had seen and heard, and the colonel considered it of
+much 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 have
+their way. We must report at once to General Grant.”
+
+The Southern attack had been planned for the next morning, but it did
+not come then. Pillow, for reasons unknown, decided to delay another
+day, and his fiery subordinates could do nothing but chafe and wait.
+Dick spent most of the day carrying orders for his chief, and the
+continuous action steadied his nerves.
+
+As he passed from point to point he saw that the Union army itself
+was far from ready. It was a difficult task to get twenty thousand
+raw farmer youths in proper position. They moved about often without
+cohesion and sometimes without understanding their orders. Great
+gaps remained in the line, and a daring and skilful foe might cut the
+besieging force asunder.
+
+But Grant had put his heavy guns in place, and throughout the day he
+maintained a slow but steady fire upon the fort. Great shells and solid
+shot curved and fell upon Donelson. Grant did not know what damage they
+were doing, but he shrewdly calculated that they would unsteady the
+nerves of the raw troops within. These farmer boys, as they heard the
+unceasing 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 a
+little nearer to each other. Far away the rival Presidents at Washington
+and Richmond were wondering what was happening to their armies in the
+dark wilderness of Western Tennessee.
+
+The night was more quiet than the one that had just gone before. The
+booming of the cannon as regular as the tolling of funeral bells had
+ceased with the darkness, but in its place the fierce winter wind had
+begun to blow again. Dick, relaxed and weary after his day's work,
+hovered over one of the fires and was grateful for the warmth. He
+had trodden miles through slush and snow and frozen earth, and he was
+plastered to the waist with frozen mud, which now began to soften and
+fall off before the coals.
+
+Warner, who had been on active duty, too, also sank to rest with a sigh
+of relief.
+
+“It's battle tomorrow, Dick,” he said, “and I don't care. As it didn't
+come off today the chances are at least eighty per cent that it will
+happen the next day. You say that when you were lying in the snow last
+night, Dick, you saw your uncle and that he's a colonel in the rebel
+army. It's queer.”
+
+“You're wrong, George, it isn't queer. We're on opposite sides, serving
+at the same place, and it's natural that we should meet some time or
+other. Oh, I tell you, you fellows from the New England and the other
+Northern States don't appreciate the sacrifices that we of the border
+states make for the Union. Up there you are safe from invasion. Your
+houses are not on the battlefields. You are all on one side. You don't
+have 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 to
+unravaged regions.”
+
+“You wrong me there, Dick. I have thought of it. It's the people of the
+border, whether North or South, who pay the biggest price. We risk our
+lives, but you risk your lives also, and everything else, too.”
+
+Dick wrapped himself in a heavy blanket, pillowed his head on a log
+before one of the fires and dozed a while. His nerves had been tried too
+hard to permit of easy sleep. He awoke now and then and over a wide area
+saw the sinking fires and the moving forms of men. He felt that a
+sense of uneasiness pervaded the officers. He knew that many of them
+considered their forces inadequate for the siege of a fortress defended
+by a large army, but he felt with the sincerity of conviction also, that
+Grant would never withdraw.
+
+He heard from Colonel Winchester about midnight in one of his wakeful
+intervals that General Grant was going down the river to see Commodore
+Foote. The brave leader of the fleet had been wounded severely in the
+last fight with the fort, and the general wished to confer with him
+about the plan of operations. But Dick heard only vaguely. The statement
+made no impression upon him at that time. Yet he was conscious that
+the feeling of uneasiness still pervaded the officers. He noticed it
+in Colonel Winchester's tone, and he noticed it, too, in the voices of
+Colonel Newcomb and Major Hertford, who came presently to confer with
+Winchester.
+
+But the boy fell into his doze again, while they were talking. Warner
+and Pennington, who had done less arduous duties, were sound asleep near
+him, the low flames now and then throwing a red light on their tanned
+faces. It seemed to him that it was about half way between midnight and
+morning, and the hum and murmur had sunk to a mere minor note. But his
+sleepy eyes still saw the dim forms of men passing about, and then he
+fell into his uneasy doze again.
+
+When he awoke once more it was misty and dark, but he felt that the dawn
+was near. In the east a faint tint of silver showed through the clouds
+and vapors. Heavy banks of fog were rising from the Cumberland and the
+flooded marshes. The earth began to soften as if unlocking from the hard
+frost of the night.
+
+Colonel Winchester stood near him and his position showed that he was
+intensely awake. He was bent slightly forward, and every nerve and
+muscle was strained as if he were eager to see and hear something which
+he 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 moment
+Colonel Winchester motioned him to awaken Warner and Pennington, which
+he did at once in speed and silence. That tint of silver, the lining of
+the fogs and vapors, shone more clearly through, and spread across the
+East. Dick knew now that the dawn was at hand.
+
+The loud but mellow notes of a trumpet came from a distant point toward
+Donelson, and then others to right and left joined and sang the same
+mellow song. But it lasted only for a minute. Then it was lost in the
+rapid crackle of rifles, which spread like a running fire along a
+front of miles. The sun in the east swung clear of the earth, its beams
+shooting a way through fogs and vapors. The dawn had come and the attack
+had 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 countless
+occasions, they were hurling themselves upon their enemy. The fortress
+poured out regiment after regiment. Chafing so long upon the defense
+Southern youth was now at its best. Attacking, not attacked, the farmer
+lads felt the spirit of battle blaze high in their breasts. The long,
+terrible rebel yell, destined to be heard upon so many a desperate
+field, fierce upon its lower note, fierce upon its higher note, as
+fierce as ever upon its dying note, and coming back in echoes still as
+fierce, swelled over forest and fort, marsh and river.
+
+The crackling fire of the pickets ceased. They had been driven back in a
+few moments upon the army, but the whole regiment of Colonel Winchester
+was now up, rifle in hand, and on either side of it, other regiments
+steadied themselves also to receive the living torrent.
+
+The little band of Pennsylvanians were on the left of the Kentuckians
+and were practically a part of them. Colonel Newcomb and Major Hertford
+stood amid their men, encouraging them to receive the shock. But Dick
+had time for only a glance at these old comrades of his. The Southern
+wave, crested with fire and steel, was rolling swiftly upon them, and as
+the Southern troops rushed on they began to fire as fast as they could
+pull 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 of
+those who were struck. It needs no small courage to hold fast against
+more than ten thousand men rushing forward at full speed and bent upon
+victory or death.
+
+Dick felt all the pulses in his temples beating hard, and he had a
+horrible impulse to break and run, but pride kept him firm. As an
+officer, he had a small sword, and snatching it out he waved it, while
+at the same time he shouted to the men to meet the charge.
+
+The Union troops returned the fire. Thousands of bullets were sent
+against the ranks of the rushing enemy. The gunners sprang to their guns
+and 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 looked
+into the muzzles of rifles, and he saw the morning sun flashing along
+the edges of bayonets. But the regiment, although torn by bullets, did
+not give ground. The charge shivered against them, and the Southern
+troops fell back. Yet it was only for a moment. They came again to be
+driven back as before, and then once more they charged, while their
+resolute foe swung forward to meet them rank to rank.
+
+Dick was not conscious of much except that he shouted continuously to
+the men to stand firm, and wondered now and then why he had not been
+hit. The Union men and their enemy were reeling back and forth, neither
+winning, neither losing, while the thunder of battle along a long and
+curving front beat heavily on the drums of every ear. The smoke, low
+down, was scattered by the cannon and rifles, but above it gathered in a
+great 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 held
+fast to the ground upon which they had stood when they were attacked.
+But for the present they had no knowledge how the battle was going
+elsewhere. The enemy just before them allowed no idle moments.
+
+Yet Grant, as happened later on at Shiloh, was taken by surprise. When
+the first roar of the battle broke with the dawn he was away conferring
+with the wounded naval commander, Foote. His right, under McClernand,
+had been caught napping, and eight thousand Southern troops striking it
+with a tremendous impact just as the men snatched up their arms, drove
+it back in heavy loss and confusion. Its disaster was increased when a
+Southern general, Baldwin, led a strong column down a deep ravine near
+the river and suddenly hurled it upon the wavering Union flank.
+
+Whole regiments retreated now, and guns were lost. The Southern
+officers, their faces glowing, shouted to each other that the battle
+was won. And still the combat raged without the Union commander, Grant,
+although he was coming now as fast as he could with the increasing roar
+of conflict to draw him on. The battle was lost to the North. But
+it might be won back again by a general who would not quit. Only the
+bulldog in Grant, the tenacious death grip, could save him now.
+
+Dick and his friends suddenly became conscious that both on their right
+and left the thunder of battle was moving back upon the Union camp.
+They realized now that they were only the segment of a circle extending
+forward practically within the Union lines, and that the combat
+was going against them. The word was given to retreat, lest they be
+surrounded, and they fell back slowly disputing with desperation every
+foot of ground that they gave up. Yet they left many fallen behind. A
+fourth of the regiment had been killed or wounded already, and there
+were tears in the eyes of Colonel Winchester as he looked over the torn
+ranks of his gallant men.
+
+Now the Southerners, meaning to drive victory home, were bringing up
+their reserves and pouring fresh troops upon the shattered Union front.
+They would have swept everything away, but in the nick of time a fresh
+Union brigade arrived also, supported the yielding forces and threw
+itself upon the enemy.
+
+But Grant had not yet come. It seemed that in the beginning fortune
+played against this man of destiny, throwing all her tricks in favor
+of his opponents. The single time that he was away the attack bad been
+made, and if he would win back a lost battle there was great need to
+hurry.
+
+The Southern troops, exultant and full of fire and spirit, continually
+rolled back their adversaries. They wheeled more guns from the fort into
+position and opened heavily on the yielding foe. If they were beaten
+back at any time they always came on again, a restless wave, crested
+with fire and steel.
+
+Dick's regiment continued to give ground slowly. It had no choice but to
+do so or be destroyed. It seemed to him now that he beheld the wreck
+of all things. Was this to be Bull Run over again? His throat and eyes
+burned 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 the
+smoke 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 anything
+we'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. The
+Southerners never ceased to press upon them with overwhelming weight.
+Pillow, now decisive in action, continually accumulated new forces
+upon the Northern right. Every position that McClernand had held at the
+opening of the battle was now taken, and the Confederate general was
+planning to surround and destroy the whole Union army. Already he
+was sending messengers to the telegraph with news for Johnston of his
+complete 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 and
+the northwest still offered desperate resistance. Conspicuous among the
+defenders was the regiment of young pioneers from Nebraska, hunters,
+Indian fighters, boys of twenty or less, who had suffered already every
+form of hardship. They stood undaunted amid the showers of bullets and
+shells 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 regiments
+that formed the core of resistance were being pared down continually.
+There was a steady dribble of fugitives to the rear, and those who
+fought felt themselves going back always, like one who slips on ice.
+
+The sun, far up the heavens, now poured down beams upon the vast cloud
+of smoke and vapor in which the two armies fought. The few people left
+in Dover, red hot for the South, cheered madly as they saw their enemy
+driven further and further away.
+
+Grant, the man of destiny, ill clad and insignificant in appearance, now
+came upon the field and saw his beaten army. But the bulldog in him shut
+down its teeth and resolved to replace defeat with victory. His greatest
+qualities, strength and courage in the face of disaster, were now about
+to shine forth. His countenance showed no alarm. He rode among the men
+cheering them to renewed efforts. He strengthened the weak places in the
+line 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 of
+resistance, desperate when he came, suddenly hardened and enlarged.
+
+Dick felt the change. It was of the mind, but it was like a cool breath
+upon the face. It was as if the winds had begun to blow courage. A great
+shout rolled along the Northern line.
+
+“Grant has come!” exclaimed Pennington, who was bleeding from a slight
+wound in the shoulder, but who was unconscious of it. “And we've quit
+retreating!”
+
+The Nebraska youth had divined the truth. Just when a complete Southern
+victory seemed to be certain the reversal of fortune came. The coolness,
+the courage, and the comprehensive eye of Grant restored the battle
+for the North. The Southern reserves had not charged with the fire and
+spirit expected, and, met with a shattering fire by the Indiana troops,
+they fell back. Grant saw the opportunity, and massing every available
+regiment, he hurled it upon Pillow and the Southern center.
+
+Dick felt the wild thrill of exultation as they went forward instead of
+going back, as they had done for so many hours. Just in front of him was
+Colonel Winchester, waving aloft a sword, the blade of which had been
+broken in two by a bullet, and calling to his men to come on. Warner and
+Pennington, grimed with smoke and mud and stained here and there with
+blood, were near also, shouting wildly.
+
+The smoke split asunder for a moment, and Dick saw the long line of
+charging troops. It seemed to be a new army now, infused with fresh
+spirit and courage, and every pulse in the boy's body began to beat
+heavily with the hope of victory. The smoke closed in again and then
+came the shock.
+
+Exhausted by their long efforts which had brought victory so near the
+Southern troops gave way. Their whole center was driven in, and they
+lost foot by foot the ground that they had gained with so much courage
+and blood. Grant saw his success and he pressed more troops upon
+his weakening enemy. The batteries were pushed forward and raked the
+shattered Southern lines.
+
+Pillow, who had led the attack instead of Floyd, seeing his fortunes
+pass so suddenly from the zenith to the nadir, gathered his retreating
+army upon a hill in front of their intrenchments, but he was not
+permitted to rest there. A fresh Northern brigade, a reserve, had
+just arrived upon the field. Joining it to the forces of Lew Wallace,
+afterwards famous as a novelist, Grant hurled the entire division upon
+Pillow's weakened and discouraged army.
+
+Winchester's regiment joined in the attack. Dick felt himself swept
+along as if by a torrent. His courage and the courage of those around
+him was all the greater now, because hope, sanguine hope, had suddenly
+shot up from the very depths of despair. Their ranks had been thinned
+terribly, but they forgot it for the time and rushed upon their enemy.
+
+The battle had rolled back and forth for hours. Noon had come and
+passed. The troops of Pillow had been fighting without ceasing for
+six hours, and they could not withstand the new attack made with such
+tremendous spirit and energy. They fought with desperation, but they
+were compelled at last to yield the field and retreat within their
+works. Their right and left suffered the same fate. The whole
+Confederate attack was repulsed. Bull Run was indeed reversed. There the
+South snatched victory from defeat and here the North came back with a
+like triumph.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. GRANT'S GREAT VICTORY
+
+
+The night, early and wintry, put an end to the conflict, the fiercest
+and greatest yet seen in the West. Thousands of dead and wounded lay
+upon the field and the hearts of the Southern leaders were full of
+bitterness. They had seen the victory, won by courage and daring, taken
+from them at the very last moment. The farmer lads whom they led had
+fought with splendid courage and tenacity. Defeat was no fault of
+theirs. It belonged rather to the generals, among whom had been a want
+of understanding and concert, fatal on the field of action. They saw,
+too, that they had lost more than the battle. The Union army had not
+only regained all its lost positions, but on the right it had carried
+the Southern intrenchments, and from that point Grant's great guns could
+dominate Donelson. They foresaw with dismay the effect of these facts
+upon their young troops.
+
+When the night fell, and the battle ceased, save for the fitful boom of
+cannon along the lines, Dick sank against an earthwork, exhausted. He
+panted for breath and was without the power to move. He regarded vaguely
+the moving lights that had begun to show in the darkness, and he heard
+without comprehension the voices of men and the fitful fire of the
+cannon.
+
+“Steady, Dick! Steady!” said a cheerful voice. “Now is the time to
+rejoice! We've won a victory, and nothing can break General Grant's
+death grip on Donelson!”
+
+Colonel Winchester was speaking, and he put a firm and friendly hand
+on the boy's shoulder. Dick came back to life, and, looking into
+his colonel's face, he grinned. Colonel Winchester could have been
+recognized only at close range. His face was black with burned
+gunpowder. His colonel's hat was gone and his brown hair flew in every
+direction. He still clenched in his hand the hilt of his sword, of which
+a broken blade not more than a foot long was left. His clothing had been
+torn by at least a dozen bullets, and one had made a red streak across
+the back of his left hand, from which the blood fell slowly, drop by
+drop.
+
+“You don't mind my telling you, colonel, that you're no beauty,” said
+Dick, who felt a sort of hysterical wish to laugh. “You look as if the
+whole Southern army had tried to shoot you up, but had merely clipped
+you all around the borders.”
+
+“Laugh if it does you good,” replied Colonel Winchester, a little
+gravely, “but, young sir, you must give me the same privilege. This
+battle, 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 is
+going to take a rest--what there is left of it.”
+
+He spoke the last words sadly. He knew the terrible cost at which they
+had driven the Southern army back into the fort, and he feared that
+the full price was yet far from being paid. But he preserved a cheerful
+manner before the brave lads of his who had fought so well.
+
+Dick found that Warner and Pennington both had wounds, although they
+were too slight to incapacitate them. Sergeant Whitley, grave and
+unhurt, rejoined them also.
+
+The winter night and their heavy losses could not discourage the
+Northern troops. They shared the courage and tenacity of their
+commander. They began to believe now that Donelson, despite its strength
+and its formidable garrison, would be taken. They built the fires high,
+and ate heartily. They talked in sanguine tones of what they would do in
+the morrow. Excited comment ran among them. They had passed from the pit
+of despair in the morning to the apex of hope at night. Exhausted, all
+save the pickets fell asleep after a while, dreaming of fresh triumphs
+on the morrow.
+
+Had Dick's eyes been able to penetrate Donelson he would have beheld a
+very different scene. Gloom, even more, despair, reigned there. Their
+great effort had failed. Bravery had availed nothing. Their frightful
+losses had been suffered in vain. The generals blamed one another. Floyd
+favored the surrender of the army, but fancying that the Union troops
+hated him with special vindictiveness, and that he would not be safe as
+a prisoner, decided to escape.
+
+Pillow declared that Grant could yet be beaten, but after a while
+changed to the view of Floyd. They yet had two small steamers in the
+Cumberland which could carry them up the river. They left the command
+to 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 my
+cavalry, not to nobody,” and by devious paths he led them away through
+the darkness and to liberty. Colonel George Kenton rode with him.
+
+The rumor that a surrender was impending spread to the soldiers. Not yet
+firm in the bonds of discipline confusion ensued, and the high officers
+were too busy escaping by the river to restore it. All through the night
+the two little steamers worked, but a vast majority of the troops were
+left behind.
+
+But Dick could know nothing of this at the time. He was sleeping too
+heavily. 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 in
+his blankets. Sleep came instantly, and it was not interrupted until
+Warner's hand fell upon his shoulder at dawn, and Warner's voice said in
+his 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 toward
+Donelson. Warner had spoken the truth. White flags waved from the walls
+and 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, but
+such a desire is nearly always a sure indication of yielding, and our
+lads take it so. Hark to their cheering.”
+
+The whole Union army was on its feet now, joyously welcoming the sight
+of the white flags. They threw fresh fuel on their fires which blazed
+along a circling rim of miles, and ate a breakfast sweetened with the
+savor of triumph.
+
+“Take this big tin cup of coffee, Dick,” said Warner. “It'll warm you
+through and through, and we're entitled to a long, brown drink for our
+victory. I say victory because the chances are ninety-nine per cent out
+of 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, who
+sat with them. “I suppose it all comes of having a general who won't
+give up. I reckon the old saying is true, an' that Hold Fast is the best
+dog of them all.”
+
+Now came a period of waiting. Colonel Winchester disappeared in the
+direction of General Grant's headquarters, but returned after a while
+and called his favorite aide, young Richard Mason.
+
+“Dick,” he said, “we have summoned the Southerners to surrender, and
+I want you to go with me to a conference of their generals. You may be
+needed to carry dispatches.”
+
+Dick went gladly with the group of Union officers, who approached
+Fort Donelson under the white flag, and who met a group of Confederate
+officers under a like white flag. He noticed in the very center of the
+Southern group the figure of General Buckner, a tall, well-built man
+in his early prime, his face usually ruddy, now pale with fatigue and
+anxiety. 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 and
+General Buckner were well acquainted and they saluted, each smiling a
+little grimly.
+
+“I bring General Grant's demand for the surrender of Fort Donelson, and
+all its garrison, arms, ammunition, and other supplies,” said Colonel
+Winchester. “Can I see your chief, General Floyd?”
+
+The lips of Buckner pressed close together in a smile touched with
+irony.
+
+“No, you cannot see General Floyd,” he said, “because he is now far up
+the Cumberland.”
+
+“Since he has abdicated the command I wish then to communicate with
+General Pillow.”
+
+“I regret that you cannot speak to him either. He is as far up the
+Cumberland as General Floyd. Both departed in the night, and I am left
+in command of the Southern army at Fort Donelson. You can state your
+demands 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 that
+Floyd and Pillow had left for Buckner. They had allowed themselves to
+be trapped and they had thrown upon him the burden of surrendering. But
+Buckner 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 Dick
+respectfully. “Could you tell me, sir, if my uncle, Colonel Kenton, is
+unhurt?”
+
+“He was, when he was last with us,” replied General Buckner, kindly.
+“Colonel Kenton went out last night with Forrest's cavalry. He will not
+be a prisoner.”
+
+“I am glad of that,” said the boy.
+
+And he was truly glad. He knew that it would hurt Colonel Kenton's pride
+terribly to become a prisoner, and although they were now on opposite
+sides, he loved and respected his uncle.
+
+The negotiations were completed and before night the garrison of
+Donelson, all except three thousand who had escaped in the night with
+Floyd and Pillow and Forrest, laid down their arms. The answer to Bull
+Run was complete. Fifteen thousand men, sixty-five cannon, and seventeen
+thousand rifles and muskets were surrendered to General Grant. The
+bulldog in the silent westerner had triumphed. With only a last chance
+left to him he had turned defeat into complete victory, and had dealt a
+stunning blow to the Southern Confederacy, which was never able like the
+North to fill up its depleted ranks with fresh men.
+
+Time alone could reveal to many the deadly nature of this blow, but
+Dick, who had foresight and imagination, understood it now at least in
+part. As he saw the hungry Southern boys sharing the food of their late
+enemies his mind traveled over the long Southern line. Thomas had beaten
+it in Eastern Kentucky, Grant had dealt it a far more crushing blow here
+in Western Kentucky, but Albert Sidney Johnston, the most formidable
+foe of all, yet remained in the center. He was a veteran general with
+a great reputation. Nay, more, it was said by the officers who knew
+him that he was a man of genius. Dick surmised that Johnston, after
+the stunning blow of Donelson, would be compelled to fall back from
+Tennessee, but he did not doubt that he would return again.
+
+Dick soon saw that all his surmises were correct. The news of Donelson
+produced for a little while a sort of paralysis at Richmond, and when it
+reached Nashville, where the army of Johnston was gathering, it was at
+first unbelievable. It produced so much excitement and confusion that
+a small brigade sent to the relief of Donelson was not called back, and
+marched blindly into the little town of Dover, where it found itself
+surrounded by the whole triumphant Union army, and was compelled to
+surrender without a fight.
+
+Panic swept through Nashville. Everybody knew that Johnston would be
+compelled to fall back from the Cumberland River, upon the banks of
+which the capital of Tennessee stood. Foote and his gunboats would come
+steaming up the stream into the very heart of the city. Rumor magnified
+the number and size of his boats. Again the Southern leaders felt that
+the rivers were always a hostile coil girdling them about, and lamented
+their own lack of a naval arm.
+
+Floyd had drawn off in the night from Donelson his own special command
+of Virginians and when he arrived at Nashville with full news of the
+defeat at the fortress, and the agreement to surrender, the panic
+increased. Many had striven to believe that the reports were untrue, but
+now there could be no doubt.
+
+And the panic gained a second impetus when the generals set fire to
+the suspension bridge over the river and the docks along its banks. The
+inhabitants saw the signal of doom in the sheets of flame that rolled
+up, and all those who had taken a leading part in the Southern cause
+prepared in haste to leave with Johnston's army. The roads were choked
+with vehicles and fleeing people. The State Legislature, which was then
+in 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 of
+the farmer lads, North and South, had been killed or wounded. But this
+feeling did not last long, as on the very evening of victory he was
+summoned to action. Action, with him, always made the blood leap and
+hope rise. It was his own regimental chief, Arthur Winchester, who
+called him, and who told him to make ready for an instant departure from
+Donelson.
+
+“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. Above
+all, 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 whom
+you know are to go with me. My force will number about three hundred and
+the horses are already waiting on the other side.”
+
+They were carried over the river on one of the boats, and the little
+company, mounting, prepared to ride into the dark woods. But before they
+disappeared, Dick looked back and saw many lights gleaming in captured
+Donelson. Once more the magnitude of Grant's victory impressed him.
+Certainly he had struck a paralyzing blow at the Southern army in the
+west.
+
+But the ride in the dark over a wild and thinly-settled country
+soon occupied Dick's whole attention. He was on one side of Colonel
+Winchester and Warner was on the other. Then the others came four
+abreast. At first there was some disposition to talk, but it was checked
+sharply by the leader, and after a while the disposition itself was
+lacking.
+
+Colonel Winchester was a daring horseman, and Dick soon realized that
+it would be no light task to follow where he led. Evidently he knew the
+country, as he rode with certainty over the worst roads that Dick had
+ever seen. They were deep in mud which froze at night, but not solidly
+enough to keep the feet of the horses from crushing through, making a
+crackle as they went down and a loud, sticky sigh as they came out. All
+were spattered with mud, which froze upon them, but they were so much
+inured to hardship now that they paid no attention to it.
+
+But this rough riding soon showed so much effect upon the horses that
+Colonel Winchester led aside into the woods and fields, keeping parallel
+with the road. Now and then they stopped to pull down fences, but they
+still made good speed. Twice they saw at some distance cabins with the
+smoke yet rising from the chimneys, but the colonel did not stop to ask
+any questions. Those he thought could be asked better further on.
+
+Twice they crossed creeks. One the horses could wade, but the other was
+so deep that they were compelled to swim. On the further bank of the
+second they stopped a while to rest the horses and to count the men to
+see that no straggler had dropped away in the darkness. Then they sprang
+into the saddle again and rode on as before through a country that
+seemed to be abandoned.
+
+There was a certain thrill and exhilaration in their daring ride. The
+smoke and odors of the battle about Donelson were blown away. The dead
+and the wounded, the grewsome price even of victory, no longer lay
+before their eyes, and the cold air rushing past freshened their blood
+and gave it a new sparkle. Every one in the little column knew that
+danger was plentiful about them, but there was pleasure in action in the
+open.
+
+Their general direction was Nashville, and now they came into a country,
+richer, better cultivated, and peopled more thickly. Toward night they
+saw on a gentle hill in a great lawn and surrounded by fine trees a
+large red brick house, with green shutters and portico supported by
+white pillars. Smoke rose from two chimneys. Colonel Winchester halted
+his 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 we
+may 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 with
+me,” continued the colonel, “and we'll try the house.”
+
+He bade his troop remain in the road under the command of the officer
+next in rank, and he, with those whom he had chosen, opened the lawn
+gate. A brick walk led to the portico and they strolled along it, their
+spurs jingling. Although the smoke still rose from the chimneys no door
+opened to them as they stepped into the portico. All the green shutters
+were closed tightly.
+
+“I think they saw us in the road,” said Dick, “and this is a house of
+staunch Southern sympathizers. That is why they don't open to us.”
+
+“Beat on the door with the hilt of your sword, sergeant,” said the
+colonel to Whitley. “They're bound to answer in time.”
+
+The sergeant beat steadily and insistently. Yet he was forced to
+continue it five or six minutes before it was thrown open. Then a tall
+old woman with a dignified, stern face and white hair, drawn back from
+high brows, stood before them. But Dick's quick eyes saw in the dusk of
+the room behind her a girl of seventeen or eighteen.
+
+“What do you want?” asked the woman in a tone of ice. “I see that you
+are Yankee soldiers, and if you intend to rob the house there is no one
+here to oppose you. Its sole occupants are myself, my granddaughter, and
+two colored women, our servants. But I tell you, before you begin, that
+all 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 regular
+soldiers belonging to General Grant's army.”
+
+“Does it make any difference? Your armies come to ravage and destroy the
+South.”
+
+Colonel Winchester flushed again but, remembering his self-control, he
+said politely:
+
+“Madame, I hope that our actions will prove to you that we have been
+maligned. 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 Southern
+armed 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 thought
+before I entered your portico I do not think so now.”
+
+“Then it gives me pleasure to bid you good evening, sir,” she said, and
+shut 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 on
+women. Come on, lads, we'll ride ahead, and camp under the trees. It's
+easy to obtain plenty of fuel for fires.”
+
+“The darkness is coming fast,” said Dick, “and it is going to be very
+cold, as usual.”
+
+In a half hour the day was fully gone, and, as he had foretold, the
+night was sharp with chill, setting every man to shivering. They turned
+aside into an oak grove and pitched their camp. It was never hard to
+obtain fuel, as the whole area of the great civil war was largely in
+forest, and the soldiers dragged up fallen brushwood in abundance. Then
+the fires sprang up and created a wide circle of light and cheerfulness.
+
+Dick joined zealously in the task of finding firewood and his search
+took him somewhat further than the others. He passed all the way through
+the belt of forest, and noticed fields beyond. He was about to turn back
+when he heard a faint, but regular sound. Experience told him that it
+was the beat of a horse's hoofs and he knew that some distance away a
+road 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 hard
+and fast.
+
+In a minute the horseman or rather horsewoman, came into view. There was
+enough light for Dick to see the slender figure of a young girl mounted
+on a great bay horse. She was wrapped in a heavy cloak, but her head was
+bare, and her long dark hair streamed almost straight out behind her, so
+great was the speed at which she rode.
+
+She struck the horse occasionally with a small riding whip, but he was
+already 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 in
+the dusk of the room behind her grandmother. He wondered why she was
+riding so fast, alone and in the winter night, and then he admitted with
+a thrill of admiration that he had never seen any one ride better. The
+hoof beats rose, died away and then horse and girl were gone in the
+darkness. Dick climbed down from the fence and shook himself. Was it
+real or merely fancy, the product of a brain excited by so much siege
+and battle?
+
+He picked up a big dead bough in the wood, dragged it back to the camp
+and 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't
+expect to see.”
+
+“What was it?”
+
+“A girl on a big horse. They came and they went so fast that I just got
+a glimpse of them.”
+
+“A girl alone, galloping on a horse on a wintry night like this through
+a 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 he
+reported it to Colonel Winchester.
+
+“Are you sure it was the girl you saw at the big house?” asked Colonel
+Winchester. “It might have been some farmer's wife galloping home from
+an 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 road
+that crossed it. The second road has been cut by hoofs of eight or nine
+hundred 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 country
+of the enemy and he began to put together what Dick had seen and what
+the sergeant had seen. But the thought of withdrawing did not occur to
+his brave soul. He had been sent on an errand by General Grant and he
+meant to do it. But he changed his plans for the night. He had intended
+to keep only one man in ten on watch. Instead, he kept half, and
+Sergeant Whitley, veteran of Indian wars, murmured words of approval
+under his breath.
+
+Whitley and Pennington were in the early watch. Dick and Warner were to
+come 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 tell
+that the colonel expects trouble of some kind tonight. What its nature
+is, I don't know, but I mean to go to sleep, nevertheless. I have
+already seen so much of hardship and war that the mere thought of danger
+does not trouble me. I took a fort on the Tennessee, I took a much
+larger one on the Cumberland, first defeating the enemy's army in a big
+battle, and now I am preparing to march on Nashville. Hence, I will not
+have my slumbers disturbed by a mere belief that danger may come.”
+
+“It's a good resolution, George,” said Dick, “but unlike you, I am
+subject to impulses, emotions, thrills and anxieties.”
+
+“Better cure yourself,” said the Vermonter, as he rolled himself in the
+blankets and put his head on his arm. In two minutes he was asleep, but
+Dick, despite his weariness, had disturbed nerves which refused to
+let him sleep for a long time. He closed his eyes repeatedly, and then
+opened them again, merely to see the tethered horses, and beyond them
+the circle of sentinels, a clear moonlight falling on their rifle
+barrels. But it was very warm and cosy in the blankets, and he would
+soon fall asleep again.
+
+He was awakened about an hour after midnight to take his turn at the
+watch, and he noticed that Colonel Winchester was still standing beside
+one of the fires, but looking very anxious. Dick felt himself on good
+enough terms, despite his youth, to urge him to take rest.
+
+“I should like to do so,” replied Colonel Winchester, “but Dick I tell
+you, although you must keep it to yourself, that I think we are in some
+danger. Your glimpse of the flying horsewoman, and the undoubted fact
+that hundreds of horsemen have crossed the road ahead of us, have made
+me 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, I
+hear 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! Seize
+that bugle, Dick, and blow the alarm with all your might!”
+
+Dick snatched up the bugle and blew upon it a long shrill blast that
+pierced far into the forest. He blew and blew again, and every man in
+the little force sprang to his feet in alarm. Nor were they a moment too
+soon. From the woods to the east came the answering notes of a bugle and
+then 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 no
+time to think about it, as the next instant came the rush of the wild
+horsemen, a thousand strong, leaning low over their saddles, their
+faces dark with the passion of anger and revenge, pistols, rifles, and
+carbines flashing as they pulled the trigger, giving way when empty to
+sabres, which gleamed in the moonlight as they were swung by powerful
+hands.
+
+Colonel Winchester's whole force would have been ridden down in the
+twinkling of an eye if it had not been for the minute's warning. His
+men, leaping to their feet, snatched up their own rifles and fired a
+volley at short range. It did more execution among the horses than among
+the horsemen, and the Southern rough riders were compelled to waver for
+a moment. Many of their horses went down, others uttered the terrible
+shrieking neigh of the wounded, and, despite the efforts of those who
+rode them, strove to turn and flee from those flaming muzzles. It was
+only a moment, but it gave the Union troop, save those who were already
+slain, time to spring upon their horses and draw back, at the colonel's
+shouted command, to the cover of the wood. But they were driven hard.
+The Confederate cavalry came on again, impetuous and fierce as ever, and
+urged continually by the great partisan leader, Forrest, now in the very
+dawn of his fame.
+
+“It was no phantom you saw, that girl on the horse!” shouted Warner in
+Dick's ear, and Dick nodded in return. They had no time for other words,
+as Forrest's horsemen, far outnumbering them, now pressed them harder
+than ever. A continuous fire came from their ranks and at close range
+they rode in with the sabre.
+
+Dick experienced the full terror and surprise of a night battle. The
+opposing forces were so close together that it was often difficult
+to tell friend from enemy. But Forrest's men had every advantage of
+surprise, superior numbers and perfect knowledge of the country. Dick
+groaned aloud as he saw that the best they could do was to save as many
+as possible. Why had he not taken a shot at the horse of that flying
+girl?
+
+“We must keep together, Dick!” shouted Warner. “Here are Pennington and
+Sergeant Whitley, and there's Colonel Winchester. I fancy that if we can
+get off with a part of our men we'll be doing well.”
+
+Pennington's horse, shot through the head, dropped like a stone to the
+ground, but the deft youth, used to riding the wild mustangs of
+the prairie, leaped clear, seized another which was galloping about
+riderless, and at one bound sprang into the saddle.
+
+“Good boy!” shouted Dick with admiration, but the next moment the
+horsemen of Forrest were rushing upon them anew. More men were killed,
+many were taken, and Colonel Winchester, seeing the futility of further
+resistance, gathered together those who were left and took flight
+through the forest.
+
+Tears of mortification came to Dick's eyes, but Sergeant Whitley, who
+rode on his right hand, said:
+
+“It's the only thing to do. Remember that however bad your position may
+be it can always be worse. It's better for some of us to escape than for
+all of us to be down or be taken.”
+
+Dick knew that his logic was good, but the mortification nevertheless
+remained a long time. There was some consolation, however, in the fact
+that his own particular friends had neither fallen nor been taken.
+
+They still heard the shouts of pursuing horsemen, and shots rattled
+about them, but now the covering darkness was their friend. They drew
+slowly away from all pursuit. The shouts and the sounds of trampling
+hoofs died behind them, and after two hours of hard riding Colonel
+Winchester drew rein and ordered a halt.
+
+It was a disordered and downcast company of about fifty who were left. A
+few of these were wounded, but not badly enough to be disabled. Colonel
+Winchester's own head had been grazed, but he had bound a handkerchief
+about 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, and
+scarcely 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 to
+continue with our errand. We were to scout the country all the way to
+Nashville. It is also possible that we will meet the division of General
+Buell advancing to that city. Now, lads, I hope that you all will be
+willing to go on with me. Are you?”
+
+“We are!” roared fifty together, and a smile passed over the wan face of
+the colonel. But he said no more then. Instead he turned his head toward
+the capital city of the state, and rode until dawn, his men following
+close behind him. The boys were weary. In truth, all of them were, but
+no one spoke of halting or complained in any manner.
+
+At sunrise they stopped in dense forest at the banks of a creek, and
+watered their horses. They cooked what food they had left, and after
+eating rested for several hours on the ground, most of them going to
+sleep, while a few men kept a vigilant watch.
+
+When Dick awoke it was nearly noon, and he still felt sore from
+his exertions. An hour later they all mounted and rode again toward
+Nashville. Near night they boldly entered a small village and bought
+food. The inhabitants were all strongly Southern, but villagers love to
+talk, and they learned there in a manner admitting of no doubt, that
+the Confederate army was retreating southward from the line of the
+Cumberland, that the state capital had been abandoned, and that to the
+eastward of them the Union army, under Buell, was advancing swiftly on
+Nashville.
+
+“At least we accomplished our mission,” said Colonel Winchester with
+some return of cheerfulness. “We have discovered the retreat of General
+Johnston's whole army, and the abandonment of Nashville, invaluable
+information to General Grant. But we'll press on toward Nashville
+nevertheless.”
+
+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 they
+could make but little defense.
+
+They came the next morning upon a good road and followed it without
+interruption until nearly noon, when they saw the glint of arms across a
+wide field. Colonel Winchester drew his little troop back into the edge
+of 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 in
+the uniforms of our own troops. Yes, they're our own men. There can be
+no 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 long
+and loud. An answering call came from the men on the parallel road, and
+they halted. Then Colonel Winchester's little troop galloped forward
+and they were soon shaking hands with the men of a mounted regiment from
+Ohio. They had been sent ahead by Buell to watch Johnston's army, but
+hearing of the abandonment of Nashville, they were now riding straight
+for the city. Colonel Winchester and his troop joined them gladly and
+the colonel rode by the side of the Ohio colonel, Mitchel.
+
+Dick and his young comrades felt great relief. He realized the terrible
+activity of Forrest, but that cavalry leader, even if he had not now
+gone south, would hesitate about attacking the powerful regiment with
+which 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 in
+Tennessee before, and I'm a long way from home, but I'm curious to see
+this city. I'd like to sleep in a house once more.”
+
+They rode into Nashville the next morning amid frowning looks, but the
+half 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 of
+General Grant's divisions on the fleet under Commodore Foote. Once more
+he appreciated the immense value of the rivers and the fleet to the
+North.
+
+He and the two lads who were now knitted to him by sympathy, and
+hardships and dangers shared, enjoyed their stay in Nashville. It was
+pleasant to sleep once more in houses and to be sheltered from rain and
+frost and snow. It was pleasant, too, for these youths, who were devoted
+to the Union, to think that their armies had made such progress in the
+west. The silent and inflexible Grant had struck the first great blow
+for the North. The immense Confederate line in the west was driven
+far southward, and the capital of one of the most vigorous of the
+secessionist states was now held by the Union.
+
+But a little later, news not so pleasant came to them. The energy
+and success of Grant had aroused jealousy. Halleck, his superior, the
+general of books and maps at St. Louis, said that he had transcended
+the limits of his command. He was infringing upon territory of other
+Northern generals. Halleck had not found him to be the yielding
+subordinate who would win successes and let others have the credit.
+
+Grant was practically relieved of his command, and when Dick heard it he
+felt a throb of rage. Boy as he was, he knew that what had been won must
+be held. Johnston had stopped at Murfreesborough, thirty or forty miles
+away. His troops had recovered from their panic, caused by the fall of
+Donelson. Fresh regiments and brigades were joining him. His army was
+rising to forty thousand men, and officers like Colonel Winchester began
+to feel apprehensive.
+
+Now came a period of waiting. The Northern leaders, as happened so
+often in this war, were uncertain of their authority, and were at
+cross-purposes. They seldom had the power of initiative that was
+permitted to the Southern generals, and of which they made such good
+use. Dick saw that the impression made by Donelson was fading. The North
+was 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 reply
+to one of his that he had written to her just after Donelson. She was
+very thankful that her son had gone safely through the battle, and since
+he must fight in war, which was terrible in any aspect, she was glad
+that he had borne himself bravely. She was glad that Colonel Kenton had
+escaped capture. Her brother-in-law was always good to her and was
+a good man. She had also received a letter from his son, her nephew,
+written from Richmond, She loved Harry Kenton, too, and sympathized with
+him, but she could not see how both sides could prevail.
+
+Dick read the letter over and over again and there was a warm glow about
+his heart. What a brave woman his mother was! She said nothing about his
+coming back home, or leaving the war. He wrote a long reply, and he
+told her only of the lighter and more cheerful events that they had
+encountered. He described Warner, Pennington, and the sergeant, and said
+that he had the best comrades in the world. He told, too, of his gallant
+and high-minded commander, Colonel Arthur Winchester.
+
+He was sure that the letter would reach her promptly, as it passed all
+the way through territory now controlled by the North. The next day
+after sending it he heard with joy that Grant was restored to his
+command, and two days later Colonel Winchester and his men were ordered
+to join him at Pittsburg Landing, on the Tennessee River. They heard
+also that Buell, with his whole division, was soon to march to the same
+place, and they saw in it an omen of speedy and concentrated action.
+
+“I imagine,” said Warner, “that we'll soon go down in Mississippi
+hunting 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 we
+were to follow Johnston's army and crush it the war would soon be ended
+in the west.”
+
+“You've got a mighty big 'if',” said Dick. “If we march into Mississippi
+we get pretty far from our base. We'll have to send a long distance
+through hostile country for fresh supplies and fresh troops, while the
+Southerners will be nearer to their own. Besides, it's not so certain
+that we can destroy Johnston when we find him.”
+
+“Your talk sounds logical, and that being the case, I'll leave our
+future movements to General Grant. Anyway, it's a good thing not to have
+so much responsibility on your shoulders.”
+
+They came in a few days to the great camp on the Tennessee. Spring
+was now breaking through the crust of winter. Touches of green were
+appearing on the forests and in the fields. Now and then the wonderful
+pungent odor of the wilderness came to them and life seemed to have
+taken on new zest. They were but boys in years, and the terrible scenes
+of Donelson could not linger with them long.
+
+They found Colonel Newcomb and the little detachment of Pennsylvanians
+with Grant, and Colonel Winchester, resuming command of his regiment,
+camped by their side, delighted to be with old friends again. Colonel
+Winchester had lost a portion of his regiment, but there were excuses.
+It had happened in a country well known to the enemy and but little
+known to him, and he had been attacked in overwhelming force by
+the rough-riding Forrest, who was long to be a terror to the Union
+divisions. But he had achieved the task on which he had been sent, and
+he was thanked by his commander.
+
+Dick, as he went on many errands or walked about in the course of his
+leisure hours with his friends, watched with interest the growth of a
+great army. There were more men here upon the banks of the Tennessee
+than he had seen at Bull Run. They were gathered full forty thousand
+strong, and General Buell's army also, he learned, had been put under
+command of General Grant and was advancing from Nashville to join him.
+
+Dick also observed with extreme interest the ground upon which they were
+encamped 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 the
+gunboats which had been of such value to Grant. All about them was
+rough, hilly country, almost wholly covered with brushwood and tall
+forest. There were three deep creeks, given significant names by the
+pioneers. Lick Creek flowed to the south of them into the Tennessee,
+and Owl Creek to the north sought the same destination. A third, Snake
+Creek, was lined with deep and impassable swamps to its very junction
+with the river.
+
+Some roads of the usual frontier type ran through this region, and at a
+point within the Northern lines stood a little primitive log church
+that they called Shiloh. It was of the kind that the pioneers built
+everywhere as they moved from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Shiloh
+belonged to a little body of Methodists. Dick went into it more than
+once. There was no pastor and no congregation now, but the little church
+was not molested. He sat more than once on an uncompromising wooden
+bench, 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 certain
+sadness. It seemed strange that a great army, whose purpose was to
+destroy other armies, should be encamped around a building erected in
+the cause of the Prince of Peace. The mighty and terrible nature of the
+war was borne in upon him more fully than ever.
+
+But optimism was supreme among the soldiers. They had achieved the great
+victory of Donelson in the face of odds that had seemed impossible. They
+could 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 was
+their place to attack and that of the men in gray to defend. They had
+advanced in triumph almost to the Mississippi line, and they would soon
+be pursuing their disorganized foe into that Gulf State.
+
+Several new generals came to serve under Grant. Among them was one named
+Sherman, to whom Dick bore messages several times, and who impressed him
+with 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 little
+church, and Dick soon learned his opinions. He did not believe that they
+would so easily conquer the South. He did not look for any triumphal
+parade to the Gulf. In the beginning of the war he had brought great
+enmity and criticism upon himself by saying that 200,000 men at least
+would be needed at once to crush the Confederacy in the west alone. And
+yet it was to take more than ten times that number four bitter years to
+achieve the task in both west and east.
+
+But optimism continued to reign in the Union army. Buell would arrive
+soon with his division and then seventy thousand strong they would
+resume their march southward, crushing everything. Meanwhile it was
+pleasant while they waited. They had an abundance of food. They were
+well sheltered from the rains. The cold days were passing, nature was
+bursting into its spring bloom, and the crisp fresh winds that blew from
+the west and south were full of life and strength. It was a joy merely
+to breathe.
+
+One rainy day the three boys, who had met by chance, went into
+the little church for shelter from a sudden spring rain. From the
+shutterless window Dick saw Sergeant Whitley scurrying in search of a
+refuge, and they called to him. He came gladly and took a seat in one of
+the rough wooden pews of the little church of Shiloh. The three boys had
+the greatest respect for the character and judgment of the sergeant, and
+Dick 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. When
+General Buell gets here we'll have nigh onto seventy thousand men, and
+seventy 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 army
+west of the Alleghanies that could stand before our seventy thousand men
+for 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 here
+for 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 General
+Johnston, with whom we've got to deal, is a great man. I wasn't with
+him when he made that great march through the blizzards an' across the
+plains to Salt Lake City to make the Mormons behave, but I've served
+with them that was. An' I've never yet found one of them who didn't say
+General Johnston was a mighty big man. Soldiers know when the right kind
+of a man is holdin' the reins an' drivin' 'em. Didn't we all feel that
+we 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 of
+uneasy feelin' over General Johnston. Why don't we hear somethin' from
+him? 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 always
+on the lookout for hostile Indians, while here we know there is a big
+Confederate army somewhere within fifty miles of us, but don't take the
+trouble to look it up.”
+
+“That's so,” said Warner. “Caution represents less than five per cent of
+our effectiveness. But I suppose we can whip the Johnnies anyway.”
+
+“Of course we can,” said Pennington, who was always of a most buoyant
+temperament.
+
+Sergeant Whitley went to the shutterless window, and looked out at the
+forest and the long array of tents.
+
+“The rain is about over,” he said. “It was just a passin' shower. But
+it looks as if it had already added a fresh shade of green to the leaves
+and grass. Cur'us how quick a rain can do it in spring, when everything
+is just waitin' a chance to grow, and bust into bloom. I've rid on the
+plains when everything was brown an' looked dead. 'Long come a big rain
+an' 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 far
+different 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 some
+Northern Cheyennes through mighty rough and dry country we came to a
+little 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 the
+other. 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. We
+enjoyed 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 out
+on the dry plains. An' you feel them things more in war than you do at
+any other time.”
+
+“I suppose you do,” said Dick. “The spring is coming out now in Kentucky
+where I live, and I'd like to see the new grass rippling before the
+wind, and the young leaves on the trees rustling softly together.”
+
+“Stop sentimentalizing,” said Warner. “If you don't it won't be a minute
+before Pennington will begin to talk about his Nebraska plains, and how
+he'd like to see the buffalo herds ten million strong, rocking the earth
+as they go galloping by.”
+
+Pennington smiled.
+
+“I won't see the buffalo herds,” he said, “but look at the wild fowl
+going north.”
+
+They left the window as the rain had ceased, and went outside. All this
+region was still primitive and thinly settled, and now they saw flocks
+of wild ducks and wild geese winging northward. The next day the heavens
+themselves were darkened by an immense flight of wild pigeons. The
+country cut up by so many rivers, creeks and brooks swarmed with wild
+fowl, 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, who
+was now regarded as a most efficient and trusty young staff officer, was
+sent with a dispatch to General Buell requesting him to press forward
+with as much speed as he could to the junction with General Grant.
+Several other aides were sent by different routes, in order to make sure
+that at least one would arrive, but Dick, through his former ride with
+Colonel 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 he
+looked back, and he could not fail to notice to what an extent it
+was yet a citizen army, and not one of trained soldiers. The veteran
+sergeant had already called his attention to what he deemed grave
+omissions. In the three weeks that they had been lying there they had
+thrown up no earthworks. Not a spade had touched the earth. Nor was
+there any other defense of any kind. The high forest circled close about
+them, dense now with foliage and underbrush, hiding even at a distance
+of a few hundred yards anything that might lie within. The cavalry in
+these three weeks had made one scouting expedition, but it was slight
+and superficial, resulting in nothing. The generals of divisions posted
+their own pickets separately, leaving numerous wide breaks in the line,
+and the farmer lads, at the change of guard, invariably fired their
+rifles in the air, to signify the joy of living, and because it was good
+to hear the sound.
+
+Now that he was riding away from them, these things impressed Dick more
+than when he was among them. Sergeant Whitley's warning and pessimistic
+words came back to him with new force, but, as he rode into the depths
+of the forest, he shook off all depression. Those words, “Seventy
+thousand strong!” continually recurred to him. Yes, they would be
+seventy thousand strong when Buell came up, and the boys were right.
+Certainly there was no Confederate force in the west that could resist
+seventy thousand troops, splendidly armed, flushed with victory and led
+by 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 such
+a thing. Nor was it possible that Johnston even behind defenses could
+resist the impact of the seventy thousand who had been passing from one
+victory to another, and who were now in the very heart of the enemy's
+country.
+
+His heart continued to beat high and fast as he rode through the green
+forest. Its strong, sweet odors gave a fillip to his blood, and he
+pressed his horse to new speed. He rode without interruption night and
+day, save a few hours now and then for sleep, and reached the army of
+Buell which deep in mud was toiling slowly forward.
+
+Buell was not as near to Shiloh as Dick had supposed, but his march had
+suffered great hindrances. Halleck, in an office far away in St. Louis,
+had undertaken to manage the campaign. His orders to Buell and his
+command to Grant had been delayed. Buell, who had moved to the town of
+Columbia, therefore had started late through no fault of his.
+
+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 railway bridge across it had been wrecked by the retreating
+Confederates and he was compelled to wait there two weeks until his
+engineers could reconstruct it.
+
+War plays singular chances. Halleck in St. Louis, secure in his plan of
+campaign, had sent an order after Dick left Shiloh, for Buell to turn
+to 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 the
+whole course of American history might have been changed. Grant himself,
+after the departure of the earlier messengers, changed his mind and
+sent messengers to Nelson, who led Buell's vanguard, telling him not to
+hurry. This army was to come to Pittsburg Landing or Shiloh partly by
+the Tennessee, and Grant stated that the vessels for him would not be
+ready until some days later. It was the early stage of the war when
+generals behaved with great independence, and Nelson, a rough, stubborn
+man, after reading the order marched on faster than ever. It seemed
+afterward 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 in
+person his dispatch to General Buell, who remembered him and gave him a
+friendly nod, but who was as chary of speech as ever. He wrote a brief
+reply to the dispatch and gave it sealed to Dick.
+
+“The letter I hand you,” he said, “merely notifies General Grant that I
+have received his orders and will hurry forward as much as possible.
+If on your return journey you should deem yourself in danger of falling
+into the hands of the enemy destroy it at once.”
+
+Dick promised to do so, saluted, and retired. He spent only two hours
+in General Buell's camp, securing some fresh provisions to carry in his
+saddle bags and allowing his horse a little rest. Then he mounted
+and took as straight a course as he could for General Grant's camp at
+Pittsburg Landing.
+
+The boy felt satisfied with himself. He had done his mission quickly and
+exactly, and he would have a pleasant ride back. On his strong, swift
+horse, and with a good knowledge of the road, he could go several times
+faster than Buell's army. He anticipated a pleasant ride. The forest
+seemed to him to be fairly drenched in spring. Little birds flaming
+in color darted among the boughs and others more modest in garb poured
+forth 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 had
+heard 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, gave
+him a long rest. Besides, there was no need to hurry. The Southern army
+was at Corinth, in Mississippi, three or four days' journey away, and
+there had been no scouts or skirmishers in the woods between.
+
+After a stop of an hour he remounted and rode on again, but the horse
+was still feeling his great strain, and he did not push him beyond a
+walk. He calculated that nevertheless he would reach headquarters not
+long after nightfall, and he went along gaily, still singing to himself.
+He crossed the river at a point above the army, where the Union troops
+had made a ferry, and then turned toward the camp.
+
+About sunset he reached a hill from which he could look over the
+forest and see under the horizon faint lights that were made by Grant's
+campfires at Pittsburg Landing. It was a welcome sight. He would soon be
+with 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 from
+the 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 with
+his heels and shouted to him. The horse plunged forward at a gallop. The
+boy, remembering General Buell's instructions, slipped the letter from
+his pocket, and in the shelter of the horse's body dropped it to the
+ground, where he knew it would be lost among the bushes and in the
+twilight.
+
+“Halt!” was repeated more loudly and sharply than ever. Then a bullet
+whizzed 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 fell
+so hard among the bushes that he was stunned for a few moments. When he
+revived and stood up he saw the four horsemen in gray looking curiously
+at him.
+
+“'Twould have been cheaper for you to have stopped when we told you to
+do it,” said one in a whimsical tone.
+
+Dick noticed that the tone was not unkind--it was not the custom to
+treat prisoners ill in this great war. He rubbed his left shoulder on
+which 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 able
+to hit either me or my horse in the dusk.”
+
+“I s'pose from your way of lookin' at it you was right to take the
+chance, but you've learned now that we Southern men are tol'able good
+sharpshooters.”
+
+“I knew it long ago, but what are you doing here, right in the jaws of
+our army? They might close on you any minute with a snap. You ought to
+be with your own army at Corinth.”
+
+Dick noticed that the men looked at one another, and there was silence
+for a moment or two.
+
+“Young fellow,” resumed the spokesman, “you was comin' from the
+direction 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' a
+message 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 chaw
+of 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' to
+search you an' it ain't wuth while to resist, 'cause we've got you
+where we want you, as the dog said to the 'coon when he took him by the
+throat. We're lookin' for letters an' dispatches, 'cause we're shore you
+come from Buell, but if we should run across any terbacker we'll have to
+he'p ourselves to it. We ain't no robbers, 'cause in times like these it
+ain't no robbery to take terbacker.”
+
+Dick noticed that while they talked one of the men never ceased to cover
+him with a rifle. They were good-humored and kindly, but he knew they
+would not relax an inch from their duty.
+
+“All right,” he said, “go ahead. I'll give you a good legal title to
+everything you may find.”
+
+He knew that the letter was lying in the bushes within ten feet of them
+and he had a strong temptation to look in that direction and see if it
+were as securely hidden as he had thought, but he resisted the impulse.
+
+Two of the men searched him rapidly and dexterously, and much to their
+disappointment 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 we
+might 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 no
+terbacker, when them that's achin' for it are standin' by, ready to grab
+it. If you had a big diamond hid about you, an' a robber was to ask you
+if you had it, you'd tell him no, of course.”
+
+“I think,” said Dick, “that you must be from Kentucky. You've got our
+accent.”
+
+“I shorely am, an' I'm a longer way from it than I like. I noticed from
+the 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 up
+with the Yankees?”
+
+“I'm from the same state,” replied Dick, who saw no reason to conceal
+his identity. “My name is Richard Mason, and I'm an aide on the staff of
+Colonel Arthur Winchester, who commands a Kentucky regiment in General
+Grant's army.”
+
+“I've heard of Colonel Winchester. The same that got a part of his
+regiment cut up so bad by Forrest.”
+
+“Yes, we did get cut up. I was there,” confessed Dick a little
+reluctantly.
+
+“Don't feel bad about it. It's likely to happen to any of you when
+Forrest is around. Now, since you've introduced yourself so nice I'll
+introduce myself. I'm Sergeant Robertson, in the Orphan Brigade. It's a
+Kentucky brigade, an' it gets its nickname 'cause it's made up of boys
+so young that they call me gran'pa, though I'm only forty-four. These
+other 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, and
+you'll jump up behind me.”
+
+A sudden spatter of rifle fire came from the direction of the Northern
+pickets.
+
+“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't
+tell 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, “riding
+behind you thirty or forty miles to your camp?”
+
+The four men exchanged glances, and no one answered. The boy felt a
+sudden chill, and his hair prickled at the roots. He did not know what
+had caused it, but surely it was a sign of some danger.
+
+The night deepened steadily as they were talking. The twilight had gone
+long since. The last afterglow had faded. The darkness was heavy with
+warmth. The thick foliage of spring rustled gently. Dick's sensation
+that 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 our
+troubles. As I said, this is a good, strong hoss of mine, an' it will
+carry us just as far as we go an' no further.”
+
+It was an enigmatical reply, and Dick saw that it was useless to ask
+them questions. Robertson mounted, and Dick, without another word,
+sprang up behind him. Two of the privates rode up close, one on either
+side, and the other kept immediately behind. He happened to glance back
+and he saw that the man held a drawn pistol on his thigh. He wondered at
+such extreme precautions, and the ominous feeling increased.
+
+“Now, lads,” said Robertson to his men, “don't make no more noise than
+you can help. There ain't much chance that any Yankee scoutin' party
+will 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, but
+just as shore as you let go with a yell or anything like it at any time
+or under any circumstances, you'll be dead the next second.”
+
+A sudden fierce note rang in his voice, and Dick, despite all his
+courage, shuddered. He felt as if a nameless terror all at once
+threatened not only him, but others. His lips and mouth were dry.
+
+Robertson spoke softly to his horse, and then rode slowly forward
+through the deep forest. The others rode with him, never breaking their
+compact formation, and preserving the utmost silence. Dick did not ask
+another question. Talk and fellowship were over. Everything before him
+now was grim and menacing.
+
+The dense woods and the darkness hid them so securely that they could
+not have been seen twenty yards away, but the men rode on at a sure
+pace, 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 in
+the tall trees calling.
+
+Before they had gone far a man stepped from a thicket and held up a
+rifle.
+
+“Four men from the Orphan Brigade with a prisoner,” said Robertson.
+
+“Advance with the prisoner,” said the picket, and the four men rode
+forward. Dick saw to both left and right other pickets, all in the gray
+uniform of the South, and his heart grew cold within him. The hair on
+his head prickled again at its roots, and it was a dreadful sensation.
+What did it mean? Why these Southern pickets within cannon shot of the
+Northern lines?
+
+The men rode slowly on. They were in the deep forest, but the young
+prisoner began to see many things under the leafy canopy. On his right
+the dim, shadowy forms of hundreds of men lay sleeping on the grass. On
+his left was a massed battery of great guns, eight in number.
+
+Further and further they went, and there were soldiers and cannon
+everywhere, but not a fire. There was no bed of coals, not a single
+torch gleamed anywhere. Not all the soldiers were sleeping, but those
+who were awake never spoke. Silence and darkness brooded over a great
+army 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 Southern
+army, which they had supposed was at Corinth, lay in the deep woods
+within cannon shot of its foe, and not a soul in all Grant's thousands
+knew of its presence there! And Buell was still far away! It seemed to
+Dick that for a little space his heart stopped beating. He foresaw it
+all, the terrible hammer-stroke at dawn, the rush of the fiery South
+upon her unsuspecting foe, and the cutting down of brigades, before
+sleep was gone from their eyes.
+
+Not in vain had the South boasted that Johnston was a great general. He
+had not been daunted by Donelson. While his foe rested on his victory
+and took his ease, he was here with a new army, ready to strike the
+unwary. Dick shivered suddenly, and, with a violent impulse, clutched
+the waist of the man in front of him. It may have been some sort of
+physical telepathy, but Robertson understood. He turned his head and
+said in a whisper:
+
+“You're right. The whole Southern army is here in the woods, an' we'd
+rather 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 would
+save the lives of thousands and prevent irreparable defeat! Again he
+clutched 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 way
+sympathetic. “After all, it's your own fault. You blundered right in our
+way, 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 had
+it to slip out of our hands and tell Ulysses Grant that Albert Sidney
+Johnston with his whole army is layin' in the woods right alongside of
+him, 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 of
+all the hundreds of thousands of men in the Northern armies, of all the
+twenty or twenty-five million people on the Northern side, there's just
+one, that one a boy, and that boy you, who knows that Albert Sidney
+Johnston 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 be
+able to tell, but if you're to measure such things with money it would
+be worth a hundred million an' more, yes, it would be cheap at three
+or four hundred millions for the North to know it. But, after all, you
+can't measure such things with money. Maybe you think I talk a heap, but
+I'm stirred some, too.”
+
+They rode on a little farther over the hilly ground, covered with thick
+forest or dense, tall scrub. But there were troops, troops, everywhere,
+and now and then the batteries. They were mostly boys, like their
+antagonists of the North, and the sleep of most of them was the sleep
+of exhaustion, after a forced and rapid march over heavy ground from
+Corinth. But Dick knew that they would be fresh in the morning when they
+rose 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 was
+the concealment of a great army, possible only in a country wooded so
+heavily, and in the presence of a careless enemy. The center was like
+the 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 heard
+by the Union pickets.
+
+“We'll stop here,” said Robertson at length. “As you're a Kentuckian, I
+thought 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 in
+front of us, an' the first regiment is that of Colonel Kenton. I'll hand
+you over to him, an'--not 'cause I've got anything ag'inst you--I'll be
+mighty glad to do it, too, 'cause my back is already nigh breakin' with
+the 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 matter
+anyway. Here we are. Jump down.”
+
+Dick sprang to the ground, and the others followed. While they held
+the reins they stood in a close circle about him. He had about as much
+chance of escape as he had of flying.
+
+Robertson walked forward, saluted some one who stood up in the dark, and
+said 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 his
+uncle face to face. It was now the time of Colonel George Kenton to
+start 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. “I
+was brought here by four scouts of yours, who I must say saw their duty
+and did it.”
+
+Colonel Kenton grasped his hand and shook it. He was very fond of this
+young nephew of his. The mere fact that he was on the other side did not
+alter his affection.
+
+“Tell me about it, Dick,” he said. “And you, Sergeant Robertson, you and
+your men are to be thanked for your vigilance and activity. You can go
+off duty. You are entitled to your rest.”
+
+As they withdrew the sergeant, who passed by Dick and who had not missed
+a 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 a
+minor, 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 a
+time. Nay, Dick, I see in it the hand of Providence. You're to be saved
+from 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 are
+in Heaven your army will be destroyed in the morning, an' you'd be
+destroyed with it. I'm fond of you, Dick, and so I'd rather you'd be in
+our 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 the
+thing as it stands! We know everything that you're doing. Our spies
+look into the very heart of your camp. You think that we are fifty miles
+away, but a cannon shot from the center of our camp would reach the
+center of yours. Why, while we are here, ready to spring, this Grant, of
+whom you think so much, is on his way tonight to the little village of
+Savannah to confer with Buell. In the dawn when we strike and roll his
+brigades 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 and
+anticipation. It was not too dark for Dick to see a spark leap from his
+eyes, and a sudden flush of red appear in either tanned cheek. But for
+Dick the chill came again, and once more his hair prickled at the roots.
+The ambush was even more complete than he had supposed, and General
+Grant would not be there when it was sprung.
+
+“Dick,” said Colonel Kenton, “I have talked to you as I would not have
+talked to anyone else, but even so, I would not have talked to you as
+I have, were not your escape an impossibility. You are unharmed, but to
+leave 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 see
+a prisoner taken as you were.”
+
+Dick followed him willingly and without a word. Aware that he was not in
+the slightest physical danger he was full of curiosity concerning what
+he was about to see. The words, “men higher in rank than I,” whipped his
+blood.
+
+Colonel Kenton led through the darkness to a deep and broad ravine, into
+which they descended. The sides and bottom of this ravine were clothed
+in bushes, and they grew thick on the edges above. It was much darker
+here, but Dick presently caught ahead of him the flicker of the first
+light that he had seen in the Southern army.
+
+The boy's heart began to beat fast and hard. All the omens foretold that
+he was about to witness something that he could never by any possibility
+forget. They came nearer to the flickering light, and he made out seated
+figures around it. They were men wrapped in cavalry cloaks, because the
+night air had now grown somewhat chill, and Dick knew instinctively
+that these were the Southern generals preparing for the hammer-stroke at
+dawn.
+
+A sentinel, rifle in hand, met them. Colonel Kenton whispered with him
+a moment, and he went to the group. He returned in a moment and
+escorted Dick and his uncle forward. Colonel Kenton saluted and Dick
+involuntarily did the same.
+
+It was a small fire, casting only a faint and flickering light, but
+Dick, 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 the
+rest, sixty at least, but his skin was clear and ruddy, and the firm
+face and massive jaw showed thought and power. Yet the countenance
+appeared gloomy, as if overcast with care. Perhaps it was another omen!
+
+By the side of Johnston sat a small but muscular man, swarthy, and in
+early middle years. His face and gestures when he talked showed clearly
+that 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 stern
+and motionless Kentuckian who sat beside him and who was his chief.
+There was no uneasy play of Johnston's hands, no shrugging of the
+shoulders, 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 done
+fifteen years before at Buena Vista, when he had broken with his guns
+the last of Santa Anna's squares, deciding the victory. By the side of
+him was Hardee, the famous tactician, taught in the best schools of both
+America and Europe. Then there was Polk, who, when a youth, had left the
+army to enter the church and become a bishop, and who was now a soldier
+again and a general. Next to the bishop-general sat the man who had been
+Vice-President of the United States and who, if the Democracy had
+held together would now have been in the chair of Lincoln, John C.
+Breckinridge, called by his people the Magnificent, commonly accounted
+the most splendid looking man in America.
+
+“Bring the prisoner forward, Colonel Kenton,” said General Johnston, a
+general upon whom the South, with justice, rested great hopes.
+
+Dick stepped forward at once and he held himself firmly, as he felt the
+eyes of the six generals bent upon him. He was conscious even at the
+moment that chance had given him a great opportunity. He was there to
+see, while the military genius of the South planned in the shadow of a
+dark 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 he
+was about to enter the Northern lines. He was coming from the direction
+of 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 what
+regiment in the Union army he belongs?”
+
+“He is on the staff of Colonel Arthur Winchester, who commands one of
+the Kentucky regiments. I have also to tell you, sir, that his name is
+Richard Mason, and that he is my nephew.”
+
+“Ah,” said General Johnston, “it is one of the misfortunes of civil war
+that so many of us fight against our own relatives. For those who live
+in the border states yours is the common lot.”
+
+But Dick was conscious that the six generals were gazing at him with
+renewed interest.
+
+“Your surmise about his having been to Buell is no doubt correct,” said
+Beauregard 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 march
+over muddy roads,” continued Beauregard as if he had not noticed Dick's
+failure to reply.
+
+Dick's teeth were shut firmly, and he compressed his lips. He stood
+rigidly erect, gazing now at the flickering flames of the little fire.
+
+“I suggest that you try him on some other subject than Buell, General
+Beauregard,” said the bishop-general, a faint twinkle appearing in his
+eyes. Johnston sat silent, but his blue eyes missed nothing.
+
+“It is true also, is it not,” continued Beauregard, “that General Grant
+has gone or is going tonight to Savannah to meet General Buell, and
+confer with him about a speedy advance upon our army at Corinth?”
+
+Dick clenched his teeth harder than ever, and a spasm passed over his
+face. He was conscious that six pairs of eyes, keen and intent, ready to
+note 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 remained
+master of himself, but after the single spasm his countenance remained
+unmoved.
+
+“You do not choose to answer,” said Bragg, always a stern and ruthless
+man, “but we can drag what you know from you.”
+
+“I am a prisoner of war,” replied Dick steadily. “I was taken in full
+uniform. 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 such
+methods. 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 you
+know 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 against
+us? 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 with
+admiration.
+
+“Still you do not answer,” continued Beauregard, and now a strong note
+of irony appeared in his tone, “but perhaps it is just as well. You
+do your duty to your own army, and we miss nothing. You cannot tell
+us anything that we do not know already. Whatever you may know we know
+more. We know tonight the condition of General Grant's army better than
+General Grant himself does. We know how General Buell and his army stand
+better than General Buell himself does. We know the position of your
+brigades and the missing links between them better than your own brigade
+commanders do.”
+
+The eyes of the Louisianian flashed, his swarthy face swelled and his
+shoulders twitched. The French blood was strong within him. Just so
+might some general of Napoleon, some general from the Midi, have shown
+his emotion on the eve of battle, an emotion which did not detract from
+courage and resolution. But the Puritan general, Johnston, raised a
+deprecatory hand.
+
+“It is enough, General Beauregard,” he said. “The young prisoner will
+tell us nothing. That is evident. As he sees his duty he does it, and
+I 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 I
+warn you that there is none who will guard better against the remotest
+possibility of your escape.”
+
+It was involuntary, but Dick gave his deepest military salute, and said
+in 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 not
+answer was quickly forgotten. Long they debated the morrow. Several
+have left accounts of what occurred. Johnston, although he had laid the
+remarkable ambush, and was expecting victory, was grave, even gloomy.
+But Beauregard, volatile and sanguine, rejoiced. For him the triumph was
+won already. After their great achievement in placing their army, unseen
+and unknown, within cannon shot of the Union force, failure was to him
+impossible.
+
+Breckinridge, like his chief, Johnston, was also grave and did not say
+much. Hardee, as became one of his severe military training, discussed
+the 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 in
+silence to move a battery or a regiment a little closer to the Union
+lines, but always he carried the injunction that no noise be made. Not
+a sound that could be heard three hundred yards away came from all that
+great army, lying there in the deep woods and poised for its spring.
+
+Meanwhile security reigned in the Union camp. The farm lads of the west
+and northwest had talked much over their fires. They had eaten good
+suppers, and by and by they fell asleep. But many of the officers still
+sat by the coals and discussed the march against the Southern army at
+Corinth, 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 the
+woods in front of them, but did not dream of that which lay in the heart
+of the darkness.
+
+The Southern generals in the ravine lingered yet a little longer. A
+diagram had been drawn upon a piece of paper. It showed the position
+of every Southern brigade, regiment, and battery, and of every Northern
+division, too. It showed every curve of the Tennessee, the winding lines
+of 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 it
+very simple, lest their brigades and regiments should lose touch and
+become confused in the great forest. They were to attack continually
+by the right, press the Union army toward the right always, in order
+to 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 the
+marshes enclosed by the river and Snake Creek and destroy it.
+
+The six generals rose, leaving the little fire to sputter out. General
+Johnston was very grave, and so were all the others as they started
+toward 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 that
+the generals were in council, and many soldiers, driven by overwhelming
+curiosity, had crept through the underbrush to watch the figures by the
+fire in the ravine. They could not hear, they did not seek to hear, but
+they were held by a sort of spell. When they saw them separate, every
+one moving toward his own headquarters, they knew that there was
+nothing to await now but the dawn, and they stole back toward their own
+headquarters.
+
+Dick had gone with Colonel Kenton to his own regiment, in the very heart
+of 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 sake
+to 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 probably
+be 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'd
+probably find at least a dozen among them whom you know, and certainly a
+hundred 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 an
+unoccupied bit of turf and closed his eyes. But it was impossible for
+young Richard Mason to sleep. He felt again that terrible thrill
+of agony, because he, alone, of all the score and more of Northern
+millions, knew that the Southern trap was about to fall, and he could
+not tell.
+
+Never was he further from sleep. His nerves quivered with actual
+physical pain. He opened his eyes again and saw the dim forms lying
+in row on row as far in the forest as his eye could reach. Then he
+listened. He might hear the rifle of some picket, more wary or more
+enterprising than the others, sounding the alarm. But no such sound came
+to his ears. It had turned warmer again, and he heard only the Southern
+wind, heavy with the odors of grass and flower, sighing through the tall
+forest.
+
+An anger against his own surged up in his breast. Why wouldn't they
+look? How could they escape seeing? Was it possible for one great army
+to remain unknown within cannon shot of another a whole night? It was
+incredible, but he had seen it, and he knew it. Fierce and bitter words
+rose to his lips, but he did not utter them.
+
+Dick lay a long time, with his eyes open, and the night was passing as
+peacefully as if there would be no red dawn. Occasionally he heard a
+faint stir near him, as some restless soldier turned on his side in his
+sleep, and now and then a muttered word from an officer who passed near
+in the darkness.
+
+Hours never passed more slowly. Colonel Kenton had gone back toward the
+Northern lines, and the boy surmised that he would be one of the first
+in the attack at dawn. He began to wonder if dawn would ever really
+come. Stars and a fair moon were out, and as nearly as he could judge
+from them it must be about three o'clock in the morning. Yet it seemed
+to 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. After
+another long and almost unendurable period he opened them once more, and
+it seemed to him that there was a faint tint of gray in the east. He sat
+up, and looking a long time, he was sure of it. The gray was deepening
+and broadening, and at its center it showed a tint of silver. The dawn
+was at hand, and every nerve in the boy's body thrilled with excitement
+and apprehension.
+
+A murmur and a shuffling sound arose all around him. The sleepers were
+awake, and they stood up, thousands of them. Cold food was given
+to them, and they ate it hastily. But they fondled their rifles and
+muskets, and turned their faces toward the point where the Northern army
+lay, and from which no sound came.
+
+Dick shivered all over. His head burned and his nerves throbbed. Too
+late now! He had hoped all through the long night that something
+would happen to carry a warning to that unsuspecting army. Nothing had
+happened, and in five minutes the attack would begin.
+
+He stood up at his full height and sought to pierce with his eyes the
+foliage in front of him, but the massed ranks of the Southerners now
+stood between, and the batteries were wheeling into line.
+
+A great throb and murmur ran through the forest. Dick looked upon faces
+brown with the sun, and eyes gleaming with the fierce passion of victory
+and revenge. They were going to avenge Henry and Donelson and all the
+long and mortifying retreat from Kentucky. Dick saw them straining and
+looking eagerly at their officers for the word to advance.
+
+As if by a concerted signal the long and mellow peal of many trumpets
+came from the front, the officers uttered the shout to charge, the wild
+and terrible rebel yell swelled from forty thousand throats, and the
+Southern 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, and
+the crash of cannon and rifles rolling down upon the Union lines. It was
+already a shout of triumph and, as he gazed, he saw through the woods
+the 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 men
+did not have time to seize their rifles. They had no chance to form
+into ranks, and the officers themselves, as they shouted commands,
+were struck down. Men killed or wounded were falling everywhere. Almost
+before they had time to draw a free breath the remnants of the brigade
+were driven upon those behind it.
+
+Hardee also rushed upon Sherman, but there he found a foe of tough
+mettle. The man who had foreseen the enormous extent of the war,
+although taken by surprise, too, did not lose his courage or presence of
+mind. His men had time to seize their arms, and he formed a hasty line
+of battle. He also had the forethought to send word to the general in
+his rear to close up the gap between him and the next general in the
+line. Then he shifted one of his own brigades until there was a ravine
+in front of it to protect his men, and he hurried a battery to his
+flank.
+
+Never was Napoleon's maxim that men are nothing, a man is everything,
+more justified, and never did the genius of Sherman shine more
+brilliantly than on that morning. It was he, alone, cool of mind and
+steady in the face of overwhelming peril, who first faced the Southern
+rush. He inspired his troops with his own courage, and, though pale of
+face, they bent forward to meet the red whirlwind that was rushing down
+upon them.
+
+Like a blaze running through dry grass the battle extended in almost an
+instant along the whole front, and the deep woods were filled with the
+roar of eighty thousand men in conflict. And Grant, as at Donelson, was
+far away.
+
+The thunder and blaze of the battle increased swiftly and to a frightful
+extent. The Southern generals, eager, alert and full of success, pushed
+in all their troops. The surprised Northern army was giving away at all
+points, except where Sherman stood. Hardee, continuing his rush, broke
+the Northern line asunder, and his brigades, wrapping themselves around
+Sherman, strove to destroy him.
+
+Although he saw his lines crumbling away before him, Sherman never
+flinched. The ravine in front of him and rough ground on one side
+defended him to a certain extent. The men fired their rifles as fast as
+they could load and reload, and the cannon on their flanks never ceased
+to pour shot and shell into the ranks of their opponents. The gunners
+were shot down, but new ones rose at once in their place. The fiercest
+conflict yet seen on American soil was raging here. North would not
+yield, South ever rushed anew to the attack, and a vast cloud of mingled
+flame and smoke enclosed them both.
+
+Dick had stood as if petrified, staring at the billows of flame, while
+the thunder of great armies in battle stunned his ears. He realized
+suddenly that he was alone. Colonel Kenton had said the night before
+that he did not know what to do with him, but that he would find a way
+in the morning. But he had been forgotten, and he knew it was natural
+that he should be. His fate was but a trifle in the mighty event that
+was passing. There was no time for any one in the Southern army to
+bother about him.
+
+Then he understood too, that he was free. The whole Orphan Brigade
+had passed on into the red heart of the battle, and had left him there
+alone. Now his mind leaped out of its paralysis. All his senses became
+alert. In that vast whirlwind of fire and smoke no one would notice that
+a single youth was stealing through the forest in an effort to rejoin
+his own people.
+
+Action followed swift upon thought. He curved about in the woods and
+then ran rapidly toward the point where the fire seemed thinnest. He did
+not check his pace until he had gone at least a mile. Then he paused to
+see if he could tell how the battle was going. Its roar seemed louder
+than ever in his ears, and in front of him was a vast red line, which
+extended an unseen distance through the forest. Now and then the wild
+and thrilling rebel yell rose above the roar of cannon and the crash of
+rifles.
+
+Dick saw with a sinking of the heart--and yet he had known that it would
+be so--that the red line of flame had moved deeper into the heart of the
+Northern camp. It had passed the Northern outposts and, at many points,
+it had swept over the Northern center. He feared that there was but a
+huddled and confused mass beyond it.
+
+He saw something lying at his feet. It was a Confederate military cloak
+which some officer had cast off as he rushed to the charge. He picked it
+up, threw it about his own shoulders, and then tossed away his cap. If
+he fell in with Confederate troops they would not know him from one of
+their own, and it was no time now to hold cross-examinations.
+
+He took a wide curve, and, after another mile, came to a hillock, upon
+which he stood a little while, panting. Again he was appalled at the
+sight he beheld. Bull Run and Donelson were small beside this. Here
+eighty thousand men were locked fast in furious conflict. Raw and
+undisciplined many of these farmer lads of the west and south were, but
+in battle they showed a courage and tenacity not surpassed by the best
+trained troops that ever lived.
+
+The floating smoke reached Dick where he stood and stung his eyes, and
+a powerful odor of burned gunpowder assailed his nostrils. But
+neither sight nor odors held him back. Instead, they drew him on with
+overwhelming force. He must rejoin his own and do his best however
+little it counted in the whole.
+
+It was now well on into the morning of a brilliant and hot Sunday. He
+did not know it, but the combat was raging fiercest then around the
+little church, which should have been sacred. Drawing a deep breath
+of an air which was shot with fire and smoke, and which was hot to
+his lungs, Dick began to run again. Almost before he noticed it he was
+running by the side of a Southern regiment which had been ordered to
+veer about and attack some new point in the Northern line. Keeping his
+presence of mind he shouted with them as they rushed on, and presently
+dropped away from them in the smoke.
+
+He was conscious now of a new danger. Twigs and bits of bark began to
+rain down upon him, and he heard the unpleasant whistle of bullets over
+his head. They were the bullets of his own people, seeking to repel the
+Southern charge. A minute later a huge shell burst near him, covering
+him with flying earth. At first he thought he had been hit by fragments
+of 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 treacherous
+ground plunged into a swamp bordering one of the creeks. He stood for
+a few moments in mud and water to his waist, but he knew that he had
+passed from the range of the Union fire. Twigs and bark no longer fell
+around him and that most unpleasant whizz of bullets was gone.
+
+He pulled himself out of the mire and ran along the edge of the creek
+toward the roar of the battle. He knew now that he had passed around the
+flank of the Southern army and could approach the flank of his own. He
+ran fast, and then began to hear bullets again. But now they were coming
+from the Southern army. He threw away the cloak and presently he emerged
+into a mass of men, who, under the continual urging of their officers,
+were making a desperate defense, firing, drawing back, reloading and
+firing again. In front, the woods swarmed with the Southern troops who
+drove incessantly upon them.
+
+Dick snatched up a rifle--plenty were lying upon the ground, where the
+owners had fallen with them--and fired into the attacking ranks. Then he
+reloaded swiftly, and pressed on toward the Union center.
+
+“What troops are these?” he asked of an officer who was knotting a
+handkerchief about a bleeding wrist.
+
+“From Illinois. Who are you?”
+
+“I'm Lieutenant Richard Mason of Colonel Arthur Winchester's Kentucky
+regiment. I was taken prisoner by the enemy last night, but I escaped
+this morning. Do you know where my regiment is?”
+
+“Keep straight on, and you'll strike it or what's left of it, if
+anything 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 guns
+and 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 in
+the center of it. The roar of the great guns was continuous, but the
+unbroken crash of rifles by the scores of thousands was fiercer and more
+deadly.
+
+The officer had pointed toward the Kentucky regiment with his sword, and
+following the line Dick ran directly into it. The very first face he saw
+was 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 within
+sight of our own, but when they charged this morning they forgot me and
+here I am.”
+
+Colonel Winchester suddenly seized him by the shoulders and pushed
+him down. The regiment was behind a small ridge which afforded some
+protection, and all were lying down except the senior officers.
+
+“Welcome, Dick, to our hot little camp! The chances are about a hundred
+per cent out of a hundred per cent that this is the hottest place on the
+earth today!”
+
+The long, thin figure of Warner lay pressed against the ground. A
+handkerchief, stained red, was bound about his head and his face was
+pale, but indomitable courage gleamed from his eyes. Just beyond him was
+Pennington, 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. “The
+Johnnies have been mowing us down. They dropped on us so suddenly this
+morning that they must have been sleeping in the same bed with us last
+night, and we didn't know it. I hear that we're routed nearly everywhere
+except here and where Sherman stands. Look out! Here they come again!”
+
+They saw tanned faces and fierce eyes through the smoke, and the bullets
+swept down on them in showers. Lucky for them that the little ridge was
+there, and that they had made up their minds to stand to the last. They
+replied with their own deadly fire, yet many fell, despite the shelter,
+and to both left and right the battle swelled afresh. Dick felt again
+that rain of bark and twigs and leaves. Sometimes a tree, cut through
+at its base by cannon balls, fell with a crash. Along the whole curving
+line the Southern generals ever urged forward their valiant troops.
+
+Now the courage and skill of Sherman shone supreme. Dick saw him often
+striding up and down the lines, ordering and begging his men to stand
+fast, although they were looking almost into the eyes of their enemies.
+
+The conflict became hand to hand, and assailant and assailed reeled to
+and fro. But Sherman would not give up. The fiercest attacks broke in
+vain on his iron front. McClernand, with whom he had quarreled the day
+before as to who should command the army while Grant was away, came up
+with reinforcements, and seeing what the fearless and resolute general
+had done, yielded him the place.
+
+The last of the charges broke for the time upon Sherman, and his
+exhausted regiment uttered a shout of triumph, but on both sides of
+him the Southern troops drove their enemy back and yet further back.
+Breckinridge, along Lick Creek, was pushing everything before him. The
+bishop-general was doing well. Many of the Northern troops had not yet
+recovered 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 with
+superb 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 swept
+again through the forest, when the soldiers saw the stern and lofty
+features of the chief whom they trusted, leading them on.
+
+But fate in the very moment of triumph that seemed overwhelming and sure
+was preparing a terrible blow for the South. A bullet struck Johnston in
+the ankle. His boot filled with blood, and the wound continued to bleed
+fast. But, despite the urging of his surgeon, who rode with him, he
+refused to dismount and have the wound bound up. How could he dismount
+at such a time, when the battle was at its height, and the Union army
+was being driven into the creeks and swamps! He was wounded again by a
+piece of shell, and he sank dying from his horse. His officers crowded
+around 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 of
+Johnston had given them, drove harder than ever against the Northern
+line. They crashed through it in many places, seizing prisoners and
+cannon. Almost the whole Northern camp was now in their possession, and
+many of the Southern lads, hungry from scanty rations, stopped to seize
+the plenty that they found there, but enough persisted to give the
+Northern army no rest, and press it back nearer and nearer to the
+marshes.
+
+The combat redoubled around Sherman. Johnston was gone, but his generals
+still shared his resolution. They turned an immense fire upon the point
+where stood Sherman and McClernand, now united by imminent peril. Their
+ranks were searched by shot and shell, and the bullets whizzed among
+them like a continuous swarm of hornets.
+
+Dick was still unwounded, but so much smoke and vapor had drifted about
+his face that he was compelled at times to rub his eyes that he might
+see. He felt a certain dizziness, too, and he did not know whether the
+incessant roaring in his ears came wholly from the cannon and rifle fire
+or partly from the pounding of his blood.
+
+“I feel that we are shaking,” he shouted in the ears of Warner, who lay
+next to him. “I'm afraid we're going to give ground.”
+
+“I feel it, too,” Warner shouted back. “We've been here for hours, but
+we're shot to pieces. Half of our men must be killed or wounded, but how
+old Sherman fights!”
+
+The Southern leaders brought up fresh troops and hurled them upon
+Sherman. Again the combat was hand to hand, and to the right and left
+the supports of the indomitable Northern general were being cut away.
+Those brigades who had proved their mettle at Donelson, and who had
+long stood fast, were attacked so violently that they gave way, and the
+victors hurled themselves upon Sherman's flank.
+
+Dick and his two young comrades perceived through the flame and smoke
+the new attack. It seemed to Dick that they were being enclosed now
+by the whole Southern army, and he felt a sense of suffocation. He was
+dizzy from such a long and terrible strain and so much danger, and he
+was not really more than half conscious. He was loading and firing his
+rifle mechanically, but he always aimed at something in the red storm
+before them, although he never knew whether he hit or missed, and was
+glad of it.
+
+The division of Sherman had been standing there seven hours, sustaining
+with undaunted courage the resolute attacks of the Southern army, but
+the sixth sense warning Dick that it had begun to shake at last was
+true. The sun had now passed the zenith and was pouring intense and
+fiery rays upon the field, sometimes piercing the clouds of smoke, and
+revealing the faces of the men, black with sweat and burned gunpowder.
+
+A cry arose for Grant. Why did not their chief show himself upon the
+field! Was so great a battle to be fought with him away? And where was
+Buell? He had a second great army. He was to join them that day. What
+good would it be for him to come tomorrow? Many of them laughed in
+bitter derision. And there was Lew Wallace, too! They had heard that he
+was near the field with a strong division. Then why did he not come upon
+it and face the enemy? Again they laughed that fierce and bitter laugh
+deep down in their throats.
+
+The attack upon Sherman never ceased for an instant. Now he was assailed
+not only from the front, but from both flanks, and some even gaining the
+rear struck blows upon his division there. One brigade upon his left was
+compelled to give way, scattered, and lost its guns. The right wing was
+also driven in, and the center yielded slowly, although retaining its
+cohesion.
+
+The three lads were on their feet now, and it seemed to them that
+everything was lost. They could see the battle in front of them only,
+but rumors came to them that the army was routed elsewhere. But neither
+Sherman nor McClernand would yield, save for the slow retreat, yielding
+ground foot by foot only. And there were many unknown heroes around
+them. Sergeant Whitley blazed with courage and spirit.
+
+“We could be worse off than we are!” he shouted to Dick. “General
+Buell's army may yet come!”
+
+“Maybe we could be worse off than we are, but I don't see how it's
+possible!” shouted Dick in return, a certain grim humor possessing him
+for the moment.
+
+“Look! What I said has come true already!” shouted the sergeant. “Here
+is shelter that will help us to make a new stand!”
+
+In their slow retreat they reached two low hills, between which a small
+ravine ran. It was not a strong position, but Sherman used it to the
+utmost. His men fired from the protecting crests of the hills, and he
+filled the ravine with riflemen, who poured a deadly fire upon their
+assailants.
+
+Now Sherman ordered them to stand fast to the last man, because it was
+by this road that the division of Lew Wallace must come, if it came at
+all. But Southern brigades followed them and the battle raged anew, as
+fierce and deadly as ever.
+
+Although their army was routed at many points the Northern officers
+showed indomitable courage. Driven back in the forest they always
+strove to form the lines anew, and now their efforts began to show some
+success. Their resistance on the right hardened, and on the left they
+held fast to the last chain of hills that covered the wharves and their
+stores at the river landing. As they took position here two gunboats in
+the river began to send huge shells over their heads at the attacking
+Southern columns, maintaining a rapid and heavy fire which shook
+assailants and strengthened defenders. Again the water had come to the
+help of the North, and at the most critical moment. The whole Northern
+line was now showing a firmer front, and Grant, himself, was directing
+the battle.
+
+Fortune, which had played a game with Grant at Donelson, played a far
+greater one with him on the far greater field of Shiloh. The red dawn of
+Shiloh, when Johnston was sweeping his army before him, had found him at
+Savannah far from the field of battle. The hardy and vigorous Nelson had
+arrived there in the night with Buell's vanguard, and Grant had ordered
+it 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 fiercest
+battle yet known on the American continent had been raging for several
+hours.
+
+Grant and his staff, as they rode away from his headquarters, heard the
+booming of cannon in the direction of Shiloh. Some of them thought it
+was a mere skirmish, but it came continuously, like rolling thunder, and
+their 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, and
+was at its height, and he away!
+
+Those trained ears told him also that the rolling thunder of the cannon
+was steadily moving toward them. It could mean only that the Northern
+army had been driven from its camp and that the Southern army was
+pushing its victory to the utmost. In those moments his agony must have
+been intense. His great army not only attacked, but beaten, and he not
+there! He and his staff urged their horses forward, seeking to gain from
+them new ounces of speed, but the country was difficult. The hills were
+rough and there were swamps and mire. And, as they listened, the roar
+of battle steadily came nearer and nearer. There was no break in the
+Northern retreat. The sweat, not of heat but of mental agony, stood upon
+their 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 they
+cried out that the Northern army was destroyed. Officers cursed them and
+struck at them with the flats of their swords, but they dodged the blows
+and escaped into the bushes. There was no time to pursue them. Grant and
+his staff never ceased to ride toward the storm of battle which raged
+far and wide around the little church of Shiloh.
+
+The stream of fugitives increased, and now they saw swarms of men who
+stood here and there, not running, but huddled and irresolute. Never
+did Fortune, who brought this, her favorite, from the depths, bring him
+again in her play so near to the verge of destruction. When he came upon
+the field, the battle seemed wholly lost, and the whole world would have
+cried that he was to blame.
+
+But the bulldog in Grant was never of stauncher breed than on that
+day. His face turned white, and he grew sick at the sight of the awful
+slaughter. A bullet broke the small sword at his side, but he did not
+flinch. Preserving the stern calm that always marked him on the field he
+began to form his lines anew and strengthen the weaker points.
+
+Yet the condition of his army would have appalled a weaker will. It had
+been driven back three miles. His whole camp had been taken. His second
+line also had been driven in. Many thousands of men had fallen and other
+thousands had been taken. Thirty of his cannon were in the hands of the
+enemy, and although noon had now come and gone there was no sound to
+betoken the coming of the troops led by Wallace or Nelson. Well might
+Grant'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 that
+the sounds of the engagement they heard in the Shiloh woods was a minor
+affair, and who wanted Nelson to wait for boats to take him there.
+
+It seemed sometimes to Dick long afterward, when the whole of the great
+Shiloh battle became clear, that Fortune was merely playing a game of
+chess, with the earth as a board, and the armies as pawns. Grant's army
+was ambushed with its general absent. The other armies which were almost
+at 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 forward
+was 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 courage
+into him and those around him. The men in gray, wearied with their
+immense 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 a
+new position along a line of hills, in front of which ran a deep ravine
+filled with brushwood. He and his officers appreciated the advantage and
+they massed the troops there as fast as they could.
+
+Now Fortune, after having brought Grant to the verge of the pit, was
+disposed to throw chances in his way. The hills and the ravine were
+one. Another, and most important it was, was the presence of guns of
+the heaviest calibre landed some days ago from the fleet, and left there
+until their disposition could be determined. A quick-witted colonel,
+Webster by name, gathered up all the gunners who had lost their own
+guns and who had been driven back in the retreat, and manned this great
+battery of siege guns, just as the Southern generals were preparing to
+break down the last stand of the North.
+
+Meanwhile, a terrible rumor had been spreading in the ranks of the
+Southern troops. The word was passed from soldier to soldier that their
+commander, 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 no
+decrease of courage, but continuous victory did not seem so easy now.
+
+Confusion invaded the triumphant army also. Beauregard had divided the
+leadership on the field among three of his lieutenants. Hardee now urged
+on 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 great
+battery of siege guns that the alert Webster had manned so quickly. Five
+minutes more and Webster would have been too late. Here again were the
+fortunes of Grant brought to the very verge of the pit. The Northern
+gunboats at the mouth of Lick Creek moved forward a little, and their
+guns 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 wounded
+in three places, commanded his men to lie down, and they gladly threw
+themselves upon the earth.
+
+There was a momentary lull in the battle. Wandering winds caught up the
+banks 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 their
+new position. They seemed to be only a few yards away and he clearly
+observed the officers walking along the front of the lines. It flashed
+upon 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 one
+Northern army today they would destroy another tomorrow! They would
+break the two halves of the Union force in the west into pieces, first
+one and then the other.
+
+“What do you see, Dick?” asked Warner, who was lying almost flat upon
+his face.
+
+“The Confederate army is getting ready to wipe us off the face of the
+earth! 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 it
+might be. Nelson, held back by Buell's orders, had listened long to
+the booming of the cannon off in the direction of Shiloh. Nothing could
+convince him that a great battle was not going on, and all through the
+morning he chafed and raged. And as the sound of the cannon grew louder
+he believed that Grant's army was losing.
+
+Nelson obtained Buell's leave at last to march for Shiloh, but it was
+a long road across hills and creeks and through swamps. The cannon sank
+deep in the mire, and then the ardent Nelson left them behind. Now he
+knew there was great need for haste. The flashing and thundering in
+front of them showed to the youngest soldier in his command that a great
+battle was in progress, and that it was going against the North. His
+division at last reached Pittsburg Landing and was carried across the
+river in the steamers. One brigade led by Ammen outstripped the rest,
+and rushed in behind the great battery and to its support, just as the
+Southern bugles once more sounded the charge.
+
+Dick shouted with joy, too, when he saw the new troops. The next moment
+the enemy was upon them, charging directly through a frightful discharge
+from the great guns. The riddled regiments, which had fought so long,
+gave way before the bayonets, but the fresh troops took their places and
+poured a terrible fire into the assaulting columns. And the great guns
+of the battery hurled a new storm of shell and solid shot. The ranks
+of the Southern troops, worn by a full day of desperate fighting, were
+broken. They had crossed the ravine into the very mouths of the Northern
+guns, but now they were driven back into the ravine and across it.
+Cannon and rifles rained missiles upon them there, and they withdrew
+into the woods, while for the first time in all that long day a shout of
+triumph 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 for
+a 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 ran
+out of the forest in the dawn, and jumped on us.”
+
+It was true that the day was almost over, although but few had noticed
+the fact. The east was already darkening, and a rosy glow from the west
+fell across the torn forest. Here and there a dead tree, set on fire
+by the shells, burned slowly, little flames creeping along trunk and
+boughs.
+
+Bragg was preparing to hurl his entire force upon Sherman and the
+battery. At that moment Beauregard, now his chief, arrived. But a few
+minutes of daylight were left and the swarthy Louisianian looked at the
+great losses in his own ranks. He believed that the army of Buell was so
+far away that it could not arrive that night and he withheld the charge.
+
+The Southern army withdrew a little into the woods, the night rushed
+down, 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 of
+the low ridges, suddenly heard the loud beating of his heart. He did not
+know, for a moment or two, that the sound came so distinctly because the
+mighty tumult which had been raging around him all day had ceased, as
+if by a concerted signal. Those blinding flashes of flame no longer
+came from the forest before him, the shot and shell quit their horrible
+screaming, and the air was free from the unpleasant hiss of countless
+bullets.
+
+He stretched himself a little and stood up. The lads all around him
+were standing up, and were beginning to talk to each other in the
+high-pitched, shouting voices that they had been compelled to use all
+day long, not yet realizing to the full that the tumult of the battle
+had ceased. The boy felt stiff and sore in every bone and muscle, and,
+although the cannon and rifles were silent, there was still a hollow
+roaring in his ears. His eyes were yet dim from the smoke, and his head
+felt 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 smoke
+floated about among the trees, and suddenly a gray squirrel hopped out
+on a bough and began to chatter wildly. Dick, despite himself, laughed,
+but the laugh was hysterical. He could appreciate the feelings of the
+squirrel, which probably had been imprisoned in a hollow of the tree all
+day long, listening to this tremendous battle, and squirrels were
+not used to such battles. It was a trifle that made him laugh, but
+everything was out of proportion now. Life did not go on in the usual
+way at all. The ordinary occupations were gone, and people spent most of
+their time trying to kill one another.
+
+He rubbed his hands across his eyes and cleared them of the smoke. The
+battle was certainly over for the day at least, and neither he nor
+his comrades had sufficient vitality yet to think of the morrow. The
+twilight was fast deepening into night. The last rosy glow of the sun
+faded, and thick darkness enveloped the vast forest, in which twenty
+thousand men had fallen, and in which most of them yet lay, the wounded
+with the dead.
+
+There was presently a deep boom from the river, and a shell fired by one
+of the gunboats curved far over their heads and dropped into the forest,
+where the Southern army was encamped. All through the night and at
+short but regular intervals the gunboats maintained this warning fire,
+heartening the Union soldiers, and telling them at every discharge that
+however they might have to fight for the land, the water was always
+theirs.
+
+Dick saw Colonel Winchester going among his men, and pulling himself
+together he saluted his chief.
+
+“Any orders, sir?” he said.
+
+“No, Dick, my boy, none for the present,” replied the colonel, a little
+sadly. “Half of my poor regiment is killed or wounded, and the rest
+are so exhausted that they are barely able to move. But they fought
+magnificently, Dick! They had to, or be crushed! It is only here that
+we have withstood the rush of the Southern army, and it is probable that
+we, 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 surprise
+that did it. How on earth we could have let the Southern army creep upon
+us and strike unaware I don't understand. But Dick, my boy, there will
+be another battle tomorrow, and it may tell a different tale. Some
+prisoners whom we have taken say that Johnston has been killed, and
+Beauregard 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 all
+his brigades are marching at the double quick. Lew Wallace arrived
+less than half an hour ago with seven thousand men fresh and eager for
+battle. Dick! Dick, my boy, we'll have forty thousand new troops on the
+field at the next dawn, and before God we'll wipe out the disgrace of
+today! 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 the
+Southern army: 'Look out! Look out! We're coming in the morning, and
+it's we who'll attack now!'”
+
+Dick saw that Colonel Winchester himself was excited. The pupils of his
+eyes were dilated, and a red spot glowed in either cheek. Like all the
+other officers he was stung by the surprise and defeat, and he could
+barely wait for the morning and revenge.
+
+Colonel Winchester walked away to a council that had been called, and
+Dick turned to Pennington and Warner, who were not hurt, save for slight
+wounds. Warner had recovered his poise, and was soon as calm and dry as
+ever.
+
+“Dick,” he said, “we're some distance from where we started this
+morning. There's nothing like being shoved along when you don't want to
+go. The next time they tell me there's nothing in a thicket I expect to
+search it and find a rebel army at least a hundred thousand strong right
+in 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 from
+the way it acted that it numbered at least three million men. I know
+that at times not less than ten thousand were aiming their rifles at my
+own poor and unworthy person. What a waste of energy for so many men to
+shoot at me all at once. I wish the Johnnies would go away and let us
+alone!”
+
+The last words were high-pitched and excited. His habitual self-control
+broke down for a moment, and the tremendous excitement and nervous
+tension of the day found vent in his voice. But in a few seconds he
+recovered himself and looked rather ashamed.
+
+“Boys,” he said, “I apologize.”
+
+“You needn't,” said Pennington. “There have been times today when I felt
+brave 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 and
+yelled at the top of my voice.”
+
+Sergeant Daniel Whitley was leaning against a stump, and while he was
+calmly lighting a pipe he regarded the three boys with a benevolent
+gaze.
+
+“None of you need be ashamed of bein' scared,” he said. “I've been in a
+lot of fights myself, though all of them were mere skirmishes when put
+alongside of this, an' I've been scared a heap today. I've been scared
+for myself, an' I've been scared for the regiment, an' I've been scared
+for the whole army, an' I've been scared on general principles, but here
+we are, alive an' kickin', an' we ought to feel powerful thankful for
+that.”
+
+“We are,” said Dick. Then he rubbed his head as if some sudden thought
+had occurred to him.
+
+“What is it, Dick?” asked Warner.
+
+“I've realized all at once that I'm tremendously hungry. The
+Confederates broke up our breakfast. We never had time to think of
+dinner, and now its nothing to eat.”
+
+“Me, too,” said Pennington. “If you were to hit me in the stomach I'd
+give back a hollow sound like a drum. Why don't somebody ring the supper
+bell?”
+
+But fires were soon lighted along their whole front, and provisions were
+brought up from the rear and from the steamers. The soldiers, feeling
+their strength returning, ate ravenously. They also talked much of
+the battle. Many of them were yet under the influence of hysterical
+excitement. They told extraordinary stories of the things they had seen
+and done, and they believed all they told were true. They ate fiercely,
+at first almost like wolves, but after a while they resolved into their
+true 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 and
+joining Grant's army of the Tennessee. Regiment after regiment and
+brigade after brigade crossed. The guns that Nelson had been forced to
+leave behind were also brought up and were taken over with the other
+batteries. While the shattered remnants of the army of the Tennessee
+were resting, the fresh army of the Ohio was marching by it in the late
+hours 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 driven
+its enemy. Always the assailant through the day, its losses had been
+immense. Many thousands had fallen, and no new troops were coming to
+take their place. Continual reinforcements came to the North throughout
+the night, not a soldier came to the South. Beauregard, at dawn, would
+have 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 night
+arranging their forces, cheering the men, and preparing for the morn.
+Their scouts and skirmishers kept watch on the Northern camp, and the
+Southerners believed that while they had whipped only one army the day
+before, they could whip two on the morrow.
+
+Dick and his friends meanwhile were lying on the earth, resting, but not
+able to sleep. The nerves, drawn so tightly by the day's work, were not
+yet relaxed wholly. A deep apathy seized them all. Dick, from a high
+point on which he lay, saw the dark surface of the Tennessee, and the
+lights on the puffing steamers as they crossed, bearing the Army of the
+Ohio. His mind did not work actively now, but he felt that they were
+saved. The deep river, although it was on their flank, seemed to flow as
+a 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 to
+the relief of the first.
+
+Dick, after a while, saw Colonel Winchester, and other officers near
+him. They were talking of their losses. They gave the names of many
+generals and colonels who had been killed. Presently they moved away,
+and he fell into an uneasy sleep, or rather doze, from which he was
+awakened 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 battle
+in the middle of the night, and then he saw that it was no battle. The
+sound was thunder rolling heavily on the southern horizon, and the night
+had become very dark. Vivid flashes of lightning cut the sky, and a
+strong wind rushed among the trees. Heavy drops of water struck him in
+the face and then the rain swept down.
+
+Dick did not seek protection from the storm, nor did any of those near
+him. The cool drops were grateful to their faces after the heat and
+strife of the day. Their pulses became stronger, and the blood flowed
+in 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 the
+rain was grateful to them, too. When they could they turned their
+fevered faces up to it that it might beat upon them and bring grateful
+coolness.
+
+Deep in the night a council like that of the Southern generals was held
+in 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 taciturn
+that night, but it is likely that extraordinary thoughts were passing in
+the minds of every one of the three.
+
+Grant, after a day in which any one of a dozen chances would have
+wrecked him, must have concluded that in very deed and truth he was the
+favorite child of Fortune. When one is saved again and again from the
+very verge he begins to believe that failure is impossible, and in that
+very belief lies the greatest guard against failure.
+
+It is said of Grant that in the night after his great defeat around the
+church of Shiloh, he was still confident, that he told his generals
+they would certainly win on the morrow, and he reminded them that if the
+Union army had suffered terribly, the Southern army must have suffered
+almost equally so, and would face them at dawn with numbers far less
+than their own. He had not displayed the greatest skill, but he had
+shown the greatest moral courage, and now on the night between battles
+it was that quality that was needed most.
+
+Dick, not having slept any the night before, and having passed through a
+day of fierce battle, was overcome after midnight, and sank into a sleep
+that was mere lethargy. He awoke once before dawn and remembered, but
+vaguely, all that had happened. Yet he was conscious that there was much
+movement in the forest. He heard the tread of many feet, the sound of
+commands, the neigh of horses and the rumbling of cannon wheels. The
+Army of the Ohio was passing to the exposed flank of the Army of the
+Tennessee and at dawn it would all be in line. He also caught flitting
+glimpses of the Tennessee, and of the steamers loaded with troops still
+crossing, and he heard the boom of the heavy cannon on the gunboats
+which still, at regular and short intervals, sent huge shells curving
+into the forest toward the camp of the Southern army. He also saw near
+him Warner and Pennington sound asleep on the ground, and then he sank
+back into his own lethargic slumber.
+
+He was awakened by the call of a trumpet, and, as he rose, he saw the
+whole regiment or rather, what was left of it, rising with him. It
+was not yet dawn, and a light rain was falling, but smoldering fires
+disclosed the ground for some distance, and also the river on which the
+gunboats 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 a
+message. Daybreak will be here in a half hour. The entire Army of the
+Ohio, led by General Buell in person will be in position then or very
+shortly afterward, and a new, and, we hope, a very different battle will
+begin.”
+
+Food and coffee were served to the men, and while the rain was still
+falling they formed in line and awaited the dawn. The desire to retrieve
+their fortunes was as strong among the farmer lads as it was among the
+officers who took care to spread among them the statement that Buell's
+army alone was as numerous as the Southern force, and probably more
+numerous since their enemy must have sustained terrible losses. Thus
+they stood patiently, while the rain thinned and the sun at last showed
+a red edge through floating clouds.
+
+They waited yet a little while longer, and then the boom of a heavy gun
+in the forest told them that the enemy was advancing to begin the battle
+afresh. Again it was the Southern army that attacked, although it was
+no surprise now. Yet Beauregard and his generals were still sanguine
+of completing the victory. Their scouts and skirmishers had failed to
+discover that the entire army of Buell also was now in front of them.
+
+Bragg was gathering his division on the left to hurl it like
+a thunderbolt upon Grant's shattered brigades. Hardee and the
+bishop-general were in the center, and Breckinridge led the right. But
+as 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 his
+and the Southern troops met in a fierce clash shortly after dawn.
+
+Beauregard, drawn by the firing at that point, and noticing the courage
+and tenacity with which the Northern troops held their ground, sending
+in volley after volley, divined at once that these were not the beaten
+troops of the day before, but new men. This swarthy general, volatile
+and dramatic, nevertheless had great penetration. He understood on the
+instant a fact that his soldiers did not comprehend until later. He knew
+that 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 leader
+gathered all his forces and hurled them upon Nelson. Weary though the
+Southern soldiers were, their attack was made with utmost fire and
+vigor. A long and furious combat ensued. A Southern division under
+Cheatham rushed to the help of their fellows. Buell's forces were driven
+in again and again, and only his heavy batteries enabled him to regain
+his lost ground.
+
+Buell led splendid troops that he had trained long and rigidly, and they
+had not been in the conflict the day before. Fresh and with unbroken
+ranks, not a man wounded or missing, they had entered the battle and
+both Grant and Buell, as well as their division commanders, expected an
+easy victory where the Army of the Ohio stood.
+
+Buell, to his amazement, saw himself reduced to the defensive. He and
+Grant had reckoned that the decimated brigades of the South could not
+stand at all before him, but just as on the first day they came on with
+the fierce rebel yell, hurling themselves upon superior numbers, taking
+the cannon of their enemy, losing them, and retaking them and losing
+them 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 had
+ceased, and the sun again shot down sheaves of fiery rays upon a vast
+low cloud of fire and smoke in which thousands of men met in desperate
+combat.
+
+Nine o'clock came. It had been expected by Grant that Buell long before
+that time would have swept everything before him. But for three hours
+Buell had been fighting to keep himself from being swept away. The
+Southern troops seemed animated by that extraordinary battle fever and
+absolute contempt of death which distinguished them so often during this
+war. Buell's army was driven in on both flanks, and only the center
+held fast. It began to seem possible that the South, despite her reduced
+ranks might yet defeat both Northern armies. Another battery dashed up
+to the relief of the men in blue. It was charged at once by the men in
+gray so fiercely that the gunners were glad to escape with their
+guns, and once more the wild rebel yell of triumph swelled through the
+southern forest.
+
+Dick, standing with his comrades on one of the ridges that they had
+defended so well, listened to the roar of conflict on the wing, ever
+increasing in volume, and watched the vast clouds of smoke gathering
+over the forest. He could see from where he stood the flash of rifle
+fire and the blaze of cannon, and both eye and ear told him that the
+battle was not moving back upon the South.
+
+“It seems that we do not make headway, sir,” he said to Colonel
+Winchester, who also stood by him, looking and listening.
+
+“Not that I can perceive,” replied the colonel, “and yet with the rush
+of forty thousand fresh troops of ours upon the field I deemed victory
+quick and easy. How the battle grows! How the South fights!”
+
+Colonel Winchester walked away presently and joined Sherman, who was
+eagerly watching the mighty conflict, into which he knew that his own
+worn and shattered troops must sooner or later be drawn. He walked up
+and down in front of his lines, saying little but seeing everything. His
+tall form was seen by all his men. He, too, must have felt a singular
+thrill at that moment. He must have known that his star was rising. He,
+more than any other, with his valor, penetrating mind and decision
+had saved the Northern army from complete destruction the first day at
+Shiloh. He had not been able to avert defeat, but he had prevented utter
+ruin. His division alone had held together in the face of the Southern
+attack until night came.
+
+Sherman must have recalled, too, how his statement that the North would
+need 200,000 troops in the west alone had been sneered at, and he had
+been called mad. But he neither boasted nor predicted, continuing to
+watch intently the swelling battle.
+
+“I had enough fighting yesterday to last me a hundred years,” said
+Warner to Dick, “but it seems that I'm to have more today. If the
+Johnnies had any regard for the rules of war they'd have retreated long
+ago.”
+
+“We'll win yet,” said Dick hopefully, “but I don't think we can achieve
+any big victory. Look, there's General Grant himself.”
+
+Grant was passing along his whole line. While leaving the main battle
+to 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, and
+sent the members of his staff to make new arrangements. He must bring
+into 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 fury
+and desperation for four hours. Dick, after General Grant rode on, felt
+as if a sudden thrill had run through the whole army. He saw men rising
+from the earth and tightening their belts. He saw gunners gathering
+around their guns and making ready with the ammunition. He knew the
+remains of Grant's army were about to march upon the enemy, helping the
+Army 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 they
+had lost the day before, and that victory was sure. They called upon
+them for another great effort, and a shout rolled along the line of
+willing 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 whole
+Northern line was now engaged. Grant, true to his resolution, had hurled
+every man and every gun upon his foe.
+
+The Southern generals felt the immense weight of the numbers that were
+now driving down upon them. Their decimated ranks could not withstand
+the charge of two armies. In the center where Buell's men, having stood
+fast from the first, were now advancing, they were compelled to give
+way and lost several guns. On the wings the heavy Northern brigades were
+advancing also, and the whole Southern line was pushed back. So much
+inferior was the South in numbers that her enemy began to overlap her on
+the flanks also.
+
+A tremendous shout of exultation swept through the Northern ranks, as
+they felt themselves advancing. The promises of their generals were
+coming true, and there is nothing sweeter than victory after defeat.
+Fortune, after frowning upon her so long, was now smiling upon the
+North. The exultant cheer swept through the ranks again, and back came
+the defiant rebel yell.
+
+A young soldier often feels what is happening with as true instinct as a
+general. Dick now knew that the North would recover the field, and that
+the South, cut down fearfully, though having performed prodigies of
+valor, must fight to save herself. He felt that the resistance in front
+of them was no longer invincible. He saw in the flash of the firing that
+the Southern ranks were thin, very thin, and he knew that there was no
+break in their own advance.
+
+Now the sanguine Northern generals planned the entire destruction of the
+Southern army. There was only one road by which Beauregard could retreat
+to Corinth. A whole Northern division rushed in to block the way.
+Sherman, in his advance, came again to the ground around the little
+Methodist chapel of Shiloh which he had defended so well the day before,
+and crowded his whole force upon the Southern line at that point. Once
+more the primitive church in the woods looked down upon one of the most
+sanguinary conflicts of the whole war. If Sherman could break through
+the 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 and
+decision. They gathered together their shattered brigades and hurled
+them like a thunderbolt upon the Union left and center. The shock was
+terrific. Sherman, with all his staunchness and the valor of his men,
+was compelled to give way. McClernand, too, reeled back, others were
+driven in also. Whole brigades and regiments were cut to pieces or
+thrown in confusion. The Southerners cut a wide gap in the Northern
+army, through which they rushed in triumph, holding the Corinth road
+against 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 increasing
+vigor, as they saw that the enemy was slowly drawing back.
+
+Grant reformed his line, which had been shattered by the last fiery and
+successful attack of the South. Along the whole long line the trumpets
+sang the charge, and brigades and batteries advanced.
+
+But the end of Shiloh was at hand. Despite the prodigies of valor
+performed by their men, the Southern generals saw that they could not
+longer hold the field. The junction of Grant and Buell, after all,
+had proved too much for them. The bugles sounded the retreat, and
+reluctantly they gave up the ground which they had won with so much
+courage and daring. They retreated rather as victors than defeated men,
+presenting a bristling front to the enemy until their regiments were
+lost in the forest, and beating off every attempt of skirmishers or
+cavalry to molest them.
+
+It was the middle of the afternoon when the last shot was fired, and the
+Southern army at its leisure resumed its march toward Corinth, protected
+on the flanks by its cavalry, and carrying with it the assurance that
+although 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. Even
+had they been ordered to follow they would have been incapable of it.
+Complete nervous collapse followed such days and nights as those through
+which they had passed.
+
+Nor did Grant and Buell wish to pursue. Their armies had been too
+terribly shaken to make another attack. Nearly fifteen thousand of
+their men had fallen and the dead and wounded still lay scattered widely
+through the woods. The South had lost almost as many. Nearly a third of
+her army had been killed or wounded in the battle, and yet they retired
+in good order, showing the desperate valor of these sons of hers.
+
+The double army which had saved itself, but which had yet been unable to
+destroy its enemy, slept that night in the recovered camp. The generals
+discussed in subdued tones their narrow escape, and the soldiers, who
+now understood very well what had happened, talked of it in the same
+way.
+
+“We knew that it was going to be a big war,” said Dick, “but it's going
+to be far bigger than we thought.”
+
+“And we won't make that easy parade down to the Gulf,” said Warner. “I'm
+thinking 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 printed
+book 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.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Guns of Shiloh, by Joseph A. Altsheler
+
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