covered the
retreat, fighting off the Northern horsemen as Jackson and his army
disappeared in the woods, and night came over the lost field.

The Southern army retired, beaten, but sullen and defiant. It did not
go far, but stopped at a point where the supply train had been placed.
Fires were built and some of the men ate, but others were so much
exhausted that without waiting for food they threw themselves upon the
ground, and in an instant were fast asleep.

Harry, for the moment, a prey to black despair, followed his general.
Only one other officer, a major, was with him. Harry watched him
closely, but he did not see him show any emotion. Little Sorrel like
his master, although he had been under fire a hundred times, had passed
through the battle without a scratch. Now he walked forward slowly, the
reins lying loose upon his neck.

Harry was not conscious of weariness. He had made immense exertions, but
his system was keyed so high by excitement that the tension held firmly
yet a little longer. The night had come on heavy and dark. Behind him he
could hear the fitful sounds of the Northern and Southern cavalry
still skirmishing with each other. Before him he saw dimly the Southern
regiments, retreating in ragged lines. It was almost more than he could
stand, and his feelings suddenly found vent in an angry cry.

General Jackson heard him and understood.

"Don't be grieved, my boy," he said quietly. "This is only the first
battle."

The calm, unboastful courage strengthened Harry anew. If he should
grieve how much more should the general who had led in the lost battle,
and upon whom everybody would hasten to put the blame! He felt once more
that flow of courage and fire from Jackson to himself, and he felt also
his splendid fortune in being associated with a man whose acts showed
all the marks of greatness. Like so many other young officers, mere
boys, he was fast maturing in the furnace of a vast war.

The general ceased to follow the troops, but turned aside into what
seemed to be a thin stretch of forest. But Harry saw that the trees grew
in rows and he exclaimed:

"An orchard!"

It seemed to strike Jackson's fancy.

"Well," he said, "an orchard is a good place to sleep in. Can't we
make a fire here? I fear that we shall have to burn some fence rails
tonight."

Harry and the major--Hawks was his name--hitched the horses, and
gathered a heap of dry fence rails. The major set fire to splinters with
ma