The Rock of Chickamauga: A Story of the Western Crisis

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER VI. A BOLD ATTACK

  Dick was the first to awake. The sergeant had not slept the night beforeat all, and, despite his enormous endurance, he was overpowered. Havingfallen once into slumber he remained there long.

  It was not yet morning and the rain was yet falling steadily. Its sweepupon the roof was still so pleasant and soothing that Dick resolved togo to sleep again, after he had looked about a little. He had grown usedto dusk and he could see just a little. The sergeant, buried all but hishead among the corn shucks, was breathing deeply and peacefully.

  He looked out at one of the cracks, but he saw only rain sweeping byin misty sheets. The road that ran by the field was invisible. He gavedevout thanks that this tight little corn crib had put itself in theirway. Then he returned to his slumbers, and when he awoke again thesergeant was sitting by one of the cracks smoothing his thick hair witha small comb.

  "I always try to keep as neat as I can, Mr. Mason," he said, apologizingfor such weakness. "It gives you more courage, and if I get killed Iwant to make a decent body. Here's your breakfast, sir. There's enoughleft for the two of us, and I've divided it equally."

  Cold ham, bacon and crackers were laid out on clean shucks, and they ateuntil nothing was left. It was now full daylight, and the rain was dyingaway to a sprinkle. The farmer might come out at any time to his crib,and they felt that they must be up and away.

  They bade farewell to their pleasant shelter of a night, and, afterpulling through the deep mud of the field, entered again the forest,which was now soaking wet.

  "If Colonel Hertford is near where we reckon he is we ought to meet himby nightfall," said Sergeant Whitley.

  "We're sure to reach him before then," said Dick joyously.

  "Colonel Hertford is a mighty good man, and if he says he's going tobe at a certain place at a certain time I reckon he'll be there, Mr.Mason."

  "And then we'll bring him back and join General Grant. What do you thinkof our General, Sergeant?"

  Dick spoke with all the freedom then so prevalent in the Americanarmies, where officer and man were often on nearly a common footing, andthe sergeant replied with equal freedom.

  "General Grant hits and hammers, and I guess that's what war is,"he said. "On the plains we had a colonel who didn't know much abouttactics. He said the only way to put down hostile Indians was to find'em, and beat 'em, and I guess that plan will work in any war, big orlittle."

  "I heard before I left the army that Washington was getting scared,afraid that he was taking too big a risk here in the heart of theConfederacy, and that his operations might be checked by orders from thecapital."

  Sergeant Whitley smiled a wise smile.

  "We sergeants learn to know the officers," he said, "and I've had thechance to look at General Grant a lot. He doesn't say much, but I guesshe's doing a powerful lot of thinking, while he's chawing on the end ofhis cigar. You notice, Mr. Mason, that he takes risks."

  "He took a big one at Shiloh, and came mighty near being nipped."

  "But he wasn't nipped after all, and now, if I can judge by the signs,he's going to take another chance here. I wouldn't be surprised if heturned and marched away from the Mississippi, say toward Jackson."

  "But that wouldn't be taking Vicksburg."

  "No, but he might whip an army of the Johnnies coming to relieveVicksburg, and I've a sneaking idea that the General has another daringthought in mind."

  "What is it, Sergeant?"

  "When he turns eastward he'll be away from the telegraph. Maybe hedoesn't want to receive any orders from the capital just now."

  "I believe you've hit it, Sergeant. At least I hope so, and anyway wewant to reach Colonel Hertford right away."

  Still following the map and also consulting their own judgment, theyadvanced now at a good rate. But as they came into a more thicklypopulated country they were compelled to be exceedingly wary. Once afarmer insisted on questioning them, but they threatened him with theirrifles and then plunged into a wood, lest he bring a force in pursuit.

  In the afternoon, lying among some bushes, they saw a large Confederateforce, with four cannon, pass on the road toward Jackson.

  "Colonel Hertford might do them a lot of damage if he could fall on themwith his cavalry," said the sergeant thoughtfully.

  "So he could," said Dick, "but I imagine that General Grant wants thecolonel to come at once."

  They turned northward now and an hour later found numerous hoofprints ina narrow road.

  "All these were made by well-shod horses," said the sergeant, afterexamining the tracks critically. "Now, we've plenty of horseshoes andthe Johnnies haven't. That's one sign."

  "What's the other?"

  "I calculate that about six hundred men have passed here, and that'spretty close to the number Colonel Hertford has, unless he's been in ahot fight."

  "Good reasoning, Sergeant, and I'll add a third. Those men are ridingdirectly toward the place where, according to our maps and information,we ought to meet Colonel Hertford."

  "All these things make me sure our men have passed here, Mr. Mason.Suppose we follow on as hard as we can?"

  Cheered by the belief that they were approaching the end of their questthey advanced at such a rate that the great trail rapidly grew fresher.

  "Their horses are tired now," said the sergeant, "and likely we're goingas fast as they are. They're our men sure. Look at this old canteen thatone of 'em has thrown away. It's the kind they make in the North. Heought to have been punished for leaving such a sign."

  "I judge, Sergeant, from the looks of this road, that they can't now bemore than a mile away."

  "Less than that, Mr. Mason. When we reach the top of the hill yonder Ithink we'll see 'em."

  The sergeant's judgment was vindicated again. From the crest they saw anumerous body of muddy horsemen riding slowly ahead. Only the brilliantsunlight made their uniforms distinguishable, but they were, beyond adoubt, the troops of the Union. Dick uttered a little cry of joy and thesergeant's face glowed.

  "We've found 'em," said the sergeant.

  "And soon we ride," said Dick.

  They hurried forward, shouted and waved their rifles.

  The column stopped, and two men, one of whom was Colonel Hertfordhimself, rode back, looking curiously at the haggard and stained facesof the two who walked forward, still swinging their rifles.

  "Colonel Hertford," said Dick joyfully, "we've come with a message foryou from General Grant."

  "And who may you be?" asked Hertford in surprise.

  "Why, Colonel, don't you know me? I'm Lieutenant Richard Mason ofColonel Winchester's regiment, and this is Sergeant Daniel Whitley ofthe same regiment."

  The colonel broke into a hearty laugh, and then extended his hand toDick.

  "I should have known your voice, my boy," he said, "but it's certainlyimpossible to recognize any one who is as thickly covered with dryMississippi mud as you are. What's your news, Dick?"

  Dick told him and the sergeant repeated the same tale. He knew them bothto be absolutely trustworthy, and their coming on such an errand throughso many dangers carried its own proof.

  "We've several spare horses, bearing provisions and arms," said ColonelHertford. "Two can be unloaded and be made ready for you and thesergeant. I fancy that you don't care to keep on walking, Dick?"

  "I've had enough to last me for years, Colonel."

  They were mounted in a few minutes, and rode with the colonel. The worldhad now changed for Dick. Astride a good horse and in a column of sixhundred men he was no longer the hunted. These troopers and he werehunters now.

  The column turned presently into another road and advanced with speed inthe direction of Grant. Colonel Hertford asked Dick many questions aboutSlade.

  "I've been hearing of him since we were on this raid," he said. "He'smore of a guerilla than a regular soldier, but he may be able to gathera considerable force. I wish we could cut him off."

  "So do I," said Dick, but his feeling was prompted chief
ly by Slade'sdetermined attempts upon his life.

  Colonel Hertford now pushed forward his men. He, too, was filled withambitions. He began to have an idea of Grant's great plans, in whichall the Union leaders must cooperate, and he meant that his own littlecommand should be there, whenever the great deed, whatever it might be,was done. He talked about it with Dick, who he knew was a trustedyoung staff officer, and the two, the lad and the older man, fed theenthusiasm of each other.

  This attack deep into the flank of the Confederacy appealed to them withits boldness, and created a certain romantic glow that seemed to clothethe efforts of a general so far from the great line of battle in theEast. They talked, too, of the navy which had run past forts on theMississippi, and which had shown anew all its ancient skill and courage.

  As they talked, twilight came, and the road led once more through thedeep woods, where the shade turned the twilight into the darkness ofnight. Then rifles flashed suddenly in the thickets, and a half-dozenhorsemen fell. The whole column was thrown for an instant or two intodisorder, frightened horses rearing and stamping, and, before theirriders could regain control, another volley came, emptying a half-dozensaddles.

  Colonel Hertford gave rapid commands. Then, shouting and waving hissaber he galloped boldly into the forest, reckless of trees and bushes,and Dick, the sergeant, and the whole troop followed. The lad was nearlyswept from his horse by a bough, but he recovered himself in time to seethe figures of men on foot fleeing rapidly through the dusk.

  Bullets pattered on bark and leaves, and the angry horsemen, afterdischarging their carbines, swept forward with circling sabers. But theirregulars who had ambushed them, save a few fallen before the bullets,escaped easily in the dense woods, and under cover of the darkness whichwas now coming down, thick and fast.

  A trumpet sounded the recall and the cavalrymen, sore and angry, drewback into the road. They had lost a dozen good men, but Colonel Hertfordfelt that they could not delay for vengeance. Grant's orders were tocome at once; and he intended to obey them.

  "I'd wager a year's pay against a Confederate five-dollar note," saidSergeant Whitley to Dick, "that the man who laid that ambush was Slade.He'll keep watch on us all the way to Grant, and he'll tell the Southernleaders everything the general is doing. Oh, he's a good scout and spy."

  "He's proved it," said Dick, "and I'd like to get a fair shot at him."

  They rode nearly all night and most of the next day, and, in theafternoon, they met other men in blue who told them that a heavy Unionforce was advancing. They had no doubt now that Grant's great plan wasalready working and in a short time they reached McPherson, advancingwith Logan's division. Hertford reported at once to McPherson, who wasglad enough to have his cavalry, and who warmly praised Dick and thesergeant for the dangerous service they had done so well. As it wouldhave been unwise for them to attempt to reach Grant then he kept themwith him in the march on Jackson.

  Dick slept that night under the stars, but thousands of Union men werearound him and he felt neither the weight of responsibility, nor thepresence of danger. He missed Warner and Pennington, but he and thesergeant were happy. Beyond a doubt now Grant was going to strikehard, and all the men were full of anticipation and hope. His force indifferent divisions was advancing on Jackson, leaving Vicksburg behindhim and the Southern army under Pemberton on one side.

  Dick heard, too, that the redoubtable Joe Johnston was coming to takecommand of the Southern garrison in Jackson, and a leader less bold thanGrant might have shrunk from such a circle of enemies, but Grant's owncourage increased the spirit of his men, and they were full of faith.

  "I expect they're alarmed in Washington," said the sergeant, as theysat on their blankets. "There ain't any telegraph station nearer thanMemphis. They've heard in the capital that the general has begun to movetoward Jackson, but they won't know for days what will happen."

  "I don't blame the President for being disturbed," said Dick. "After allthe army is to serve the nation and fights under the supreme civilianauthority. The armies don't govern."

  "That's so, but there come times when the general who has to do thefighting can judge best how it ought to be done."

  Dick lay down on one blanket and put another over him. It was well intoMay, which meant hot weather in Mississippi, but, if he could, he alwaysprotected himself at night. He was not a vain lad, but he felt proudover his success. Hertford's six hundred horse were a welcome additionto any army.

  He lay back soon with a knapsack as a pillow under his head and listenedto the noises of the camp, blended now into a rather musical note.Several cooking fires still burned here and there and figures passedbefore them. Dick observed them sleepily, taking no particular note,until one, small and weazened, came. The figure was about fifty yardsaway, and there was a Union cap instead of a great flap-brimmed hat onthe head, but Dick sprang to his feet at once, snatched a pistol fromhis belt and rushed toward it.

  The evil figure melted away like a shadow, and two astonished soldiersseized the youth, who seemed to be running amuck in the camp, pistol inhand.

  "Let go!" exclaimed Dick. "I've seen a man whom I know to be a spy, anda most dangerous one, too."

  They could find no trace of Slade. Dick returned crestfallen to hisblanket, but he recalled something now definitely and clearly. Sladewas the little man whom he had seen carrying the log the morning he leftGeneral Grant's camp, on his mission.

  The sergeant, who had never stirred from his own blanket, sat up whenDick returned.

  "Who was he, Mr. Mason?" he asked.

  "Slade himself. He must have seen me jump up, because he vanished likea ghost. But I gained something. I know now that I saw him here in ouruniform just before I started to find Colonel Hertford. That was why Iwas followed."

  "The cunning of an Indian. Well, we'll be on the watch for him now,but I imagine he's already on the way to Jackson with the news of ouradvance and an estimate of our numbers. We can't do anything to head himoff."

  On the second day after joining the column Dick was ahead with thecavalry, riding beside Colonel Hertford, and listening to occasionalshots in their front on the Jackson road. Both believed they would soonbe in touch with the enemy. Sergeant Whitley, acting now as a scout, hadgone forward through a field and in a few minutes galloped back.

  "The enemy is not far away," he said. "They're posted along a creek,with high banks and in a wood. They've got a strong artillery too, and Ithink they about equal us in numbers."

  Dick carried the report to the commander of the column, and soon thetrumpets were calling the men to battle. The crackle of rifle shotsahead increased rapidly. The skirmishers were already pulling trigger,and, as Dick galloped back to Hertford he saw many puffs of white smokedown the road and in the fields and woods on either side. The Union menbegan to cheer. In the West they had suffered no such defeats as theirbrethren in the East, and every pulse beat with confidence. As the wholeline moved forward the Southern cannon began to crash and their shellsswept the road.

  The cavalry were advancing in a field, but they were yet held back toa slow walk. Dick heard many impatient exclamations, but he knew therestraint was right. He saw the accuracy of the Southern gunners. Theywere driving the Northern infantry from the road. Their fire was rapidand deadly, and, for a while, the Union army was checked.

  Hertford was calmly examining the Southern position through his glasses,while he restrained his eager men. The volume of Southern fire wasgrowing fast. Shells and shrapnel rained death over a wide area, and theair was filled with whistling bullets. It was certain destruction forany force to charge down the road in face of the Southern cannon, andthe Northern army began to spread out, wheeling toward either flank.

  An aide arrived with an order to Hertford, and then he loosed his eagercavalry. Turning to one side they galloped toward the creek. Some of theSouthern gunners, seeing them, sent shells toward them, and a swarmof riflemen in a wood showered them with bullets. But they passed sorapidly that not many saddles were emptied,
and the trumpeter blew amellow note that urged on spirits already willing enough.

  The sweep of the cavalry charge exhilarated Dick. The thought of dangerpassed away for the moment. He saw all around him the eager faces ofmen, and horses that seemed just as eager. Dust and dirt flew beneaththe thudding hoofs, and the dust and floating smoke together made agrimy cloud through which they galloped.

  They passed around still further on the flank. They seemed, for a fewminutes, to be leaving the battle, which was now at its height, theSouthern artillery still holding the road and presenting an unbrokenfront.

  Dick saw a flash of water and then the whole troop thundered into thecreek, almost without slackened rein. Up the bank they went, and witha wild shout charged upon the Southern infantry. On the other flankanother Northern force which also had crossed the creek attacked withfire and spirit.

  But the battle still swayed back and forth. Hertford and his cavalrywere thrown off, merely to return anew to the charge. A portion ofthe Northern force was driven back on the creek. The strong Southernbatteries poured forth death. Dick felt that they might yet lose, butthey suddenly heard a tremendous cheer, and a fresh force coming upat the double quick enabled them to sweep the field. Before sunset theSouthern army retreated toward Jackson, leaving the field to the men inblue.

  Dick dismounted and, examining himself carefully, found that he hadsuffered no wound. Colonel Hertford and the sergeant had also taken nohurt. But the lad and his elder comrade secured but little rest. Theywere bidden to ride across the country at once to General Sherman withthe news of the victory. Sherman was at the head of another column, andGrant was farther away with the main body.

  Dick and the sergeant, with the battle smoke still in their eyes, wereeager for the service.

  "When you're with Grant you don't stay idle, that's certain," said Dickas they rode across the darkening fields.

  "No, you don't," said the sergeant, "and I'm thinking that we've justbegun. I know from the feel of it that big things are going to happenfast. Sheer away from the woods there, Mr. Mason. We don't want to bepicked off by sharpshooters."

  They arrived after dark in Sherman's camp and he received them himself.Dick remembered how he had seen this thin, dry man holding fast with hiscommand at Shiloh, and he saluted him with the deepest respect. He knewthat here was a bold and tenacious spirit, kin to that of Grant. Shermanhad heard already of the battle, but he wished more and definite news.

  "You say that our victory was complete?" he asked tersely.

  "It was, sir," replied Dick. "The entire force of the enemy retiredrapidly toward Jackson, and our men are eager to advance on that city."

  "It would be a great stroke to take the capital of Mississippi," saidSherman musingly. Then he added in his crisp manner:

  "Are you tired?"

  "Not if you wish me to do anything," replied Dick quickly.

  Sherman smiled.

  "The right spirit," he said. "I wish you and your comrade to ride atonce with this news to General Grant. He may hear it from other sources,but I want to send a letter by you."

  In ten minutes Dick and the sergeant were riding proudly away on anothermission, and, passing through all the dangers of Southern scouts andskirmishers, they reached General Grant, to whom they delivered theletter from Sherman. Grant, who had recently been in doubt owing to thethreat of Pemberton on his flank, hesitated no longer when he heard ofthe victory, and resolved at once upon the capture of Jackson.

  Dick, after his battle and two rides, went to sleep in a wagon, while anorderly took his horse. When he awoke unknown hours afterward he foundthat he was moving. He knew at once that the army was advancing. Beforehim and behind him he heard all the noises of the march, the beat ofhorses' hoofs, the grinding of wheels, the clanking of cannon, thecracking of whips and the sounds of many voices.

  He was wonderfully comfortable where he lay and he had the satisfactionand pride of much duty done. He felt that he was entitled to rest, and,turning on his side, he went to sleep again. After another unknown timehis second awakening came and he remained awake.

  He quietly slipped out at the tail of the wagon, and stood for a fewmoments, dazzled by the blazing sunlight. Then a loud, cheery voicecalled out:

  "Well, if it isn't our own Lucky Dick come back again, safe and well tothe people to whom he belongs!"

  "If z equals Dick and y equals his presence then we have z plus y, asDick is certainly present," called out another voice not quite so loud,but equally cheery. "Luck, Frank, is only a minor factor in life. Whatwe usually call luck is the result of foresight, skill and courage.There are facts that I wouldn't have you to forget, even if it is a hotday far down in Mississippi."

  Warner and Pennington sprang from their horses and greeted Dick warmly.They had returned a day or two before from their own less perilouserrands, but they were in great anxiety about their comrade. They wereglad too, when they heard that the sergeant had joined him and that hehad come back safe.

  "I suppose it means a battle at Jackson," said Warner. "We're surely onthe move, and we're going to keep the Johnnies busy for quite a spell."

  "Looks like it," said Dick.

  Colonel Winchester came soon, and his face showed great relief when heshook hands with Dick.

  "It was a dangerous errand, Dick, my lad," he said, "but I felt that youwould succeed and you have. It was highly important that we gather allour forces for a great stroke."

  Dick resumed at once his old place in the Winchester regiment, withWarner, Pennington and his other comrades around him. Refreshed byabundant sleep and good food he was in the highest of spirits. Theywere embarked upon a great adventure and he believed that it would besuccessful. His confidence was shared by all those about him. Meanwhilethe army advanced in diverging columns upon the Mississippi capital.

  Jackson, on Pearl River, had suddenly assumed a vast importance inDick's mind, and yet it was but a tiny place, not more than three orfour thousand inhabitants. The South was almost wholly agricultural,and cities, great in a political and military sense, were in reality buttowns. Richmond, itself the capital of the Confederacy, around which somuch centered, had only forty thousand people.

  The Winchester regiment was detached that afternoon and sent to join thecolumn under McPherson, which was expected to reach Jackson first. Dickwas mounted again, and he rode with Warner and Pennington on eitherside of him. They speculated much on what they would find when theyapproached Jackson.

  "If Joe Johnston is there," said Warner, "I think we'll have a hardfight. You'll remember that he did great work against us in Virginia,until he was wounded."

  "And they'll know, of course, just when to expect us and in what force,"said Dick. "Slade will tell them that. He probably has a large body ofspies and scouts working under him. But I don't think he'll come insideour camp again."

  "Not likely since he's been recognized," said Warner, thoughtfully. "ButI don't think General Grant is afraid of anything ahead. That's why hemade the separation from our own world so complete, and our men areout cutting down the telegraph lines, so the Johnnies in Jackson can'tcommunicate with their own government either. It's important to us thatwe take Jackson before Pemberton with his army can come up."

  Warner had estimated the plan correctly. Grant, besides cuttinghimself off from his own superiors at Washington, was also destroyingcommunication between the garrison of Jackson and Pemberton's army ofVicksburg, which was not far away. The two united might beat him, buthe meant to defeat them separately, and then besiege Vicksburg. It wasa complicated plan, depending upon quickness, courage and continuedsuccess. Yet the mind of Grant, though operating afterward on fields ofgreater numbers, was never clearer or more vigorous.

  They went into camp again after dark, knowing that Jackson was but ashort distance away, and they expected to attack early in the morning.Dick carried another dispatch to Sherman, who was only a littlemore than two miles from them, and on his way back he joined ColonelWinchester, who, with Warner, Pennington
and a hundred infantry, hadcome out for a scout. The dismounted men were chosen because they wishedto beat up a difficult piece of wooded country.

  They went directly toward Jackson, advancing very cautiously through theforest, the mounted officers riding slowly. The night was hot and dark,moon and stars obscured by drifting clouds. Pennington, who was anexpert on weather, announced that another storm was coming.

  "I can feel a dampness in the air," he said. "I'm willing to risk myreputation as a prophet and say that the dawn will come with rain."

  "I hope it won't be a big rain," said Colonel Winchester, "because if itis it will surely delay our attack. Our supply of cartridges is small,and we can't risk wetting them."

  Pennington persisted that a storm was at hand. His father had taughthim, he said, always to observe the weather signs on the great Nebraskaplains. They were nearly always hoping for rain there, and he hadlearned to smell it before it came. He could smell it now in the sameway here in Mississippi.

  His opinion did not waver, when the clouds floated away for a while,disclosing a faint moon and a few stars. They were now on the banks of abrook, flowing through the wood, and Colonel Winchester thought he sawa movement in the forest beyond it. It was altogether likely that soskillful a leader as Joe Johnston would have out bodies of scouts, andhe stopped, bidding his men to take cover.

  Dick sat on his horse by the colonel's side under the thick boughs of agreat tree, and studied the thickets before them. He, too, had noticeda movement, and he was confident that the Southern sharpshooters werethere. At the command of the colonel all of the officers dismounted,and orderlies took the horses to the rear. On foot they continued theirexamination of the thickets, and the colonel sent for Sergeant Whitley,who confirmed his opinion that the enemy was before them. At hissuggestion the Union force was spread out, lest it be flanked andannihilated in the thickets.

  Just as the movement was completed rifles began to crack in front and onboth flanks, and the piercing yell of the South arose.

  It was impossible to tell the size of the force that assailed them, butthe Winchester men were veterans now, and they were not afraid. Standingamong the bushes or sheltered by the trees they held their fire untilthey saw dusky figures in the thickets.

  It had all the aspects of an old Indian battle in the depths of thegreat forest. Darkness, the ambush and the caution of sharpshooters werethere. Dick carried a rifle, but he did not use it. He merely watchedthe pink beads of flame among the bushes, while he stayed by the side ofhis colonel and observed the combat.

  It soon became apparent to him that it would have no definite result.Each side was merely feeling out its foe that night, and would not forcethe issue. Yet the Southern line approached and some bullets whistlednear him. He moved a little to one side, and watched for an enemy. Itwas annoying to have bullets come so close, and since they were shootingat him he might as well shoot at them.

  While he was absorbed in watching, the colonel moved in the otherdirection, and Dick stood alone behind a bush. The fire in front hadincreased somewhat, although at no time was it violent. Occasional shotsfrom his own side replied. The clouds that had drifted away were nowdrifting back, and he believed that darkness alone would soon end thecombat.

  Then he saw a bush only a dozen yards in his front move a little, and aface peered through its branches. There was yet enough light for himto see that the face was youthful, eager and handsome. It was familiar,too, and then with a shock he remembered. Woodville, the lad with whomhe had fought such a good fight, nature's weapons used, was before him.

  Dick raised his rifle. Young Woodville was an easy target. But themotion was only a physical impulse. He knew in his heart that he hadno intention of shooting the young Southerner, and he did not feel theslightest tinge of remorse because he evaded this part of a soldier'swork.

  Yet Woodville, seeing nobody and hearing nothing, would come on. Dick,holding his rifle in the crook of his left arm, drew a pistol and firedit over the lad's head. At the same moment he dropped almost flat uponthe ground. The bullet cut the leaves above Woodville and he sprangback, startled. A half-dozen Southern skirmishers fired at the flashof Dick's pistol, but he, too, lying on the ground, heard them cuttingleaves over his head.

  Dick saw the face of Woodville disappear from the bush, and then hecrept away, rejoining Colonel Winchester and his comrades. Five minuteslater the skirmish ceased by mutual consent, and each band fell back onits own army, convinced that both were on the watch.

  They were to advance at four o'clock in the morning, but Pennington'sprediction came true. After midnight, flashes of lightning cut the skyand the thunder rolled heavily. Then the rain came, not any fugitiveshower, but hard, cold and steady, promising to last many hours.

  It was still pouring when the advance began before dawn, but Grant'splans were complete. He had drawn up his forces on the chessboard,and they were converging closely upon Jackson. They must keep theircartridges dry and advance at all costs.

  The Winchesters were in the van in a muddy road. Dick, Warner andPennington were in the saddle, and they were wet through and through.The rain and dusk were so heavy that they could not see fifty feet, andthey shivered with cold. But their souls were eager and high, and theywere glad when the army toiled slowly forward to battle.