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 devoted1 to the union, to think that their armies had made such progress in the west. The silent and inflexible2 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 jealousy3. Halleck, his superior, the general of books and maps at St. Louis, said that he had transcended4 the limits of his command. He was infringing5 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 throb6 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 regiments7 and brigades were joining him. His army was rising to forty thousand men, and officers like Colonel Winchester began to feel apprehensive9.
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 Harry10 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 lighter12 and more cheerful events that they had encountered. He described Warner, Pennington, and the sergeant13, and said that he had the best comrades in the world. He told, too, of his gallant14 and high-minded commander, Colonel Arthur Winchester.
He was sure that the letter would reach her promptly15, 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 omen16 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 mighty17 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 pungent18 odor of the wilderness19 came to them and life seemed to have taken on new zest20. 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 regiment8, 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 swollen21 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 creeks22, given significant names by the pioneers. Lick Creek23 flowed to the south of them into the Tennessee, and Owl24 Creek to the north sought the same destination. A third, Snake Creek, was lined with deep and impassable swamps to its very junction25 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 primitive26 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 pastor27 and no congregation now, but the little church was not molested28. He sat more than once on an uncompromising wooden bench, and looked out through a window, from which the shutter29 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 erected30 in the cause of the Prince of Peace. The mighty and terrible nature of the war was borne in upon him more fully31 than ever.
But optimism was supreme32 among the soldiers. They had achieved the great victory of Donelson in the face of odds33 that had seemed impossible. They could defeat all the Southern forces that lay between them and the Gulf34. The generals shared their confidence. They did not fortify35 their camp. They had not come that far South to fight defensive36 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 foe37 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 curt38 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 reign39 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 shutterless40 window Dick saw Sergeant Whitley scurrying41 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 judgment42 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 blizzards43 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 reins44 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 lookout45 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 temperament46.
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 bust47 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 poetical48 streak49 in you, sergeant,” said Dick, who marked his abrupt50 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 rippling51 before the wind, and the young leaves on the trees rustling52 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 buffalo53 herds54 ten million strong, rocking the earth as they go galloping56 by.”
Pennington smiled.
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 northward58. 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 brooks59 swarmed60 with wild fowl, and more than once the soldiers roused up deer from the thickets61.
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 omissions63. 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 defense64 of any kind. The high forest circled close about them, dense65 now with foliage66 and underbrush, hiding even at a distance of a few hundred yards anything that might lie within. The cavalry67 in these three weeks had made one scouting68 expedition, but it was slight and superficial, resulting in nothing. The generals of divisions posted their own pickets69 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 recurred71 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 toiling72 slowly forward.
Buell was not as near to Shiloh as Dick had supposed, but his march had suffered great hindrances73. 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 wrecked74 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 vessels75 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 afterward76 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 chary77 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, saluted78, and retired79. 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 drenched80 in spring. Little birds flaming in color darted81 among the boughs82 and others more modest in garb83 poured forth84 a full volume of song. Dick, sensitive to sights and sounds, hummed a tune85 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.
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 scouts88 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 gaily89, 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.
Dick faced about in amazement90, 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 plunged91 forward at a gallop55. 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 twilight92.
“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 stunned93 for a few moments. When he revived and stood up he saw the four horsemen in gray looking curiously94 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 jaws95 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 kindly97, 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 dexterously98, 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 conceal100 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 Orphan101 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. Hop99 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 steadily102 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 rustled103 gently. Dick's sensation that something unusual was happening did not depart.
“Sonny,” said Robertson, “you ain't got no call to worry 'bout11 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 drawn105 pistol on his thigh106. He wondered at such extreme precautions, and the ominous107 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, shuddered108. He felt as if a nameless terror all at once threatened not only him, but others. His lips and mouth were dry.
Robertson spoke96 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 picket70, 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 cannon109 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 canopy110. 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 phantoms111, row on row.
The whole appalling112 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 fiery113 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 daunted114 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.”
“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 antagonists116 of the North, and the sleep of most of them was the sleep of exhaustion117, 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.
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devoted
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inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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3
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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4
transcended
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| 超出或超越（经验、信念、描写能力等）的范围( transcend的过去式和过去分词 )； 优于或胜过… | |
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5
infringing
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| v.违反（规章等）( infringe的现在分词 )；侵犯（某人的权利）；侵害（某人的自由、权益等） | |
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6
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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7
regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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8
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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9
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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10
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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11
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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12
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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13
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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14
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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15
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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16
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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17
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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18
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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19
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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20
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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21
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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22
creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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23
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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24
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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25
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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26
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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27
pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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28
molested
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| v.骚扰( molest的过去式和过去分词 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵 | |
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29
shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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30
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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31
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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32
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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33
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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34
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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35
fortify
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| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
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36
defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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37
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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38
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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39
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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40
shutterless
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| 快门不 | |
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41
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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42
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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43
blizzards
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| 暴风雪( blizzard的名词复数 )； 暴风雪似的一阵，大量（或大批） | |
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44
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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45
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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46
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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47
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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48
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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49
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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50
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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51
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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52
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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53
buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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54
herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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55
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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56
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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57
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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58
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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59
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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60
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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61
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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62
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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63
omissions
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| n.省略( omission的名词复数 )；删节；遗漏；略去或漏掉的事（或人） | |
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64
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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65
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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66
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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67
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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68
scouting
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| 守候活动，童子军的活动 | |
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69
pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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70
picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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71
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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72
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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73
hindrances
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| 阻碍者( hindrance的名词复数 )； 障碍物； 受到妨碍的状态 | |
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74
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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75
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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76
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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77
chary
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| adj.谨慎的，细心的 | |
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78
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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79
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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80
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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81
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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82
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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83
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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84
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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85
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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86
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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87
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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88
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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89
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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90
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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91
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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92
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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93
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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94
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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95
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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96
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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97
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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98
dexterously
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| adv.巧妙地，敏捷地 | |
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99
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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100
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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101
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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102
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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103
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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105
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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106
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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107
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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108
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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109
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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110
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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111
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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112
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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113
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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114
daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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115
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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116
antagonists
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| 对立[对抗] 者，对手，敌手( antagonist的名词复数 )； 对抗肌； 对抗药 | |
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117
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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