for the regulars and the cavalry, dissolved. The generals could
not stem the flood. They rushed forward in confused masses, seeking
only to save themselves. Whole regiments dashed into the fords of Bull
Run and emerged dripping on the other side. A bridge was covered with
spectators come out from Washington to see the victory, many of them
bringing with them baskets of lunch. Some were Members of Congress,
but all joined in the panic and flight, carrying to the capital many
untrue stories of disaster.

A huge mass of fleeing men emerged upon the Warrenton turnpike, throwing
away their weapons and ammunition that they might run the faster.
It was panic pure and simple, but panic for the day only. For hours
they had fought as bravely as the veterans of twenty battles, but now,
with weakened nerves, they thought that an overwhelming force was upon
them. Every shell that the Southern guns sent among them urged them to
greater speed. The cavalry and little force of regulars covered the
rear, and with firm and unbroken ranks retreated slowly, ready to face
the enemy if he tried pursuit.

But the men in gray made no real pursuit. They were so worn that they
could not follow, and they yet scarcely believed in the magnitude of
their own victory, snatched from the very jaws of defeat. Twenty-eight
Northern cannon and ten flags were in their hands, but thousands of dead
and wounded lay upon the field, and night was at hand again, close and
hot.

Harry turned back to the little plateau where those that were left of
the Invincibles were already kindling their cooking fires. He looked
for his two comrades and recognized them both under their masks of dust
and powder.

"Are you hurt, Tom?" he said to Langdon.

"No, and I'm going to sleep in the White House at Washington after all."

"And you, Arthur?"

"There's a red line across my wrist, where a bullet passed, but it's
nothing. Listen, what do you think of that, boys?"

A Southern band had gathered in the edge of the wood and was playing
a wild thrilling air, the words of which meant nothing, but the tune
everything:

"In Dixie's land
I'll take my stand,
To live and die for Dixie.
Look away! Look away!
Look away down South in Dixie."

"So we have taken their tune from them and made it ours!" St. Clair
exclaimed jubilantly. "After all, it really belonged to us! We'll play
it through the streets of Wash