Part 19 (2/2)

”I don't know what percolate means, but I reckon it has something to do with travelin' about through your system. I think I need a couple of gallons myself. Say, will you give a fair answer to a fair question?”

”Yes, go ahead.”

”Don't you Yanks feel powerful bad over the thras.h.i.+ng we've given you?”

”Not so bad. Besides I wouldn't call it a thras.h.i.+ng. It's just a temporary advantage. And you wait. We'll take it away from you.”

”I don't know about that, but I can't argue with you now. I'm due for my second gallon.”

”So am I.”

Each bent down and drank again a long, life-giving draught from the rus.h.i.+ng stream. For a distance of a hundred yards or more heads black, brown and sometimes yellow were bent over the brook. Far off, both to east and west, the cannon thundered in the darkness, but with the drinkers it was a peaceful interlude of a quarter of an hour. Such moments often occurred in this war when the men on both sides were blood brethren.

Colonel Winchester stood up, and the grizzled Confederate colonel stood up on the other side of the stream, facing him. Their hands rose in a simultaneous salute of respect.

”Sir,” said Colonel Winchester, ”I'm happy to have met you in this manner.”

”Sir,” said the Southern colonel ornately, ”we are happy to have drunk from the same stream with such brave foes, and now, sir, I propose as we retire that neither regiment shall fire a shot within the next five minutes.”

”Agreed,” said Colonel Winchester, and then as the colonels gave the signals the two regiments withdrew beyond their respective thickets. The truce of the water was over, but these foes did not meet again that night.

The regiment had left a great proportion of its numbers dead upon the field. Half the others were wounded more or less, but the slightly wounded marched on with the unhurt. Many of them were now barely conscious. They were either asleep upon their feet or in a daze. Nevertheless they soon rejoined the main command.

d.i.c.k, having his pride as an officer, sought to keep himself active and alert. He pa.s.sed among the lads of his own age, and encouraged them. He told them how the older men were already speaking of the wonders they had done, and presently he saw Thomas himself riding along with the young general, Garfield, who had been with him throughout the afternoon. All the Winchester men saw their commander, and, worn as they were, they stopped and gave a mighty cheer. Thomas was moved. Under the cloudy moon d.i.c.k saw him show emotion for the first time. He took off his hat.

”Gentlemen, comrades,” he said, ”we have lost the battle of Chickamauga, but if all our regiments fight as you fought to-day the war is won.”

Another cheer, enthusiastic and spontaneous, burst from the regiment, and Thomas rode on. d.i.c.k had never heard him make another speech so long.

When they reached the little town of Chattanooga within its mountains they began to realize the full grandeur of their exploit. The remainder of the army of Rosecrans was almost a mob, and brave as he undoubtedly was he was soon removed to another field, leaving Thomas in supreme command until Grant should come.

d.i.c.k had no rest until the next night, when tents were set for the battered remains of the Winchester regiment. He, Warner, Pennington and three others were a.s.signed to one of the larger tents. He had been without sleep for two days and two nights, and the tremendous tension that had kept him up so long was relaxing fast. He felt that he must sleep or die. Yet they talked together a little before they stretched themselves upon their blankets.

”Do you think Bragg will attack us in Chattanooga, d.i.c.k?” asked Pennington.

”I don't. Our position here is too strong, and, as he was the a.s.sailant, his losses must be something awful. Moreover, the rivers are always ours and reinforcements will soon pour in to us. I think that General Thomas saved the Union. What have you to say, George?”

”Just about what you are saying, d.i.c.k. We've been beaten, but not enough to suit the Johnnies. They have on their side present victory. We have on ours present but not total defeat. You might say they have x, while we have x + y. Wait until I look into my algebra, and I can find further mathematical and beautiful propositions proving my contention beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

He took out his algebra and opened it. A bullet fell from the leaves into his lap. Warner picked it up and examined it carefully. Then he looked at the book.

”It went half way through,” he said in tones of genuine solemnity. ”If it had gone all the way it would have pierced my heart and I could never have known how this war is going to end. It has saved my life, and I shall always keep it over my heart until we go back home.”

d.i.c.k was asleep the next minute, and they did not wake him for twelve hours. When he came from the tent he stood blinking in the sun, and a tall lean youth hailed him with a joyous shout: ”Why, it's Mason-Mason of Kentucky!” exclaimed the lad, extending a hardened hand. ”I'm glad you're alive. How are those friends of yours, Warner and Pennington?”

”Well, save for scratches, Ohio. They're about somewhere.”

They shook hands again, hunted up the others, and celebrated their escape from death.

d.i.c.k learned later that all the Woodvilles were still alive and that Colonel Kenton, although wounded, was recovering fast. Slade, with troublesome raids, soon gave evidence of his own continued existence.

Then, as they expected, reinforcements poured in. Grant came, and d.i.c.k and his comrades took part in the fight at Missionary Ridge and the battle ”above the clouds” on Lookout Mountain. He witnessed great triumphs and he had a share in them.

He saw Bragg's army broken up, and he rejoiced with the others when the news came that Grant for his brilliant successes had been made commander of all the armies of the Union, and would go east to match himself against the mighty Lee. The Winchester regiment would go with him and d.i.c.k, Warner, Pennington and Sergeant Whitley, who was entirely recovered, talked of it gravely: ”We've been in the East before,” said Pennington, ”but we won't be under any doubting general now.”

”I fancy it will be the death grapple,” said Warner.

”And the continent will shake with it,” said d.i.c.k.

The three, as if by the same impulse, turned and faced the distant East, where the shades were already gathering over the Wilderness.

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