ever before or afterward in the West.

It was now late in September, the eve of the eighteenth, and Dick
and his comrades lay near the little creek with the rhythmical name,
Chickamauga. It was the very night that a portion of the Army of
Northern Virginia had arrived in Bragg's camp. The preceding days had
been full of detached fighting, and the night had come heavy with omens
and presages. The least intelligent knew now that Bragg had stopped, but
they did not know that Longstreet was to be with him.

Dick and his comrades sat by a smothered fire, and the vast tangle of
mountains and passes, of valleys and streams looked sinister to them.
There had been skirmishing throughout the day, and as the darkness
closed down they still heard occasional rifle shots on the slopes and
ridges.

"Don't these mountains make you think of your native Vermont, George?"
asked Dick.

"In a way, yes," replied Warner, "but my hills are not bristling with
steel as these are."

"No, you New Englanders are fortunate. The war will never be carried on
on your soil. You shed your blood, but, after all, the states that are
trodden under foot by the armies suffer most."

"There are lights winking on the mountains again," said Pennington.

"Let 'em wink," said Dick. "Their signals can't amount to much now. We
know that Bragg is before us, and a great battle can't be delayed long.
Fellows, I'm not so sure about the result."

"Come! Come, Dick!" said Warner. "It's not often you're downhearted.
What's struck you?"

"Nothing, George, but, between you and me and the gate post, I wish that
our old 'Pap' Thomas commanded all the army, instead of the left merely.
I've learned a few things to-day. The enemy is spreading out, trying to
enfold us on both wings."

"What of it?"

"It means that they are sanguine of victory, and they want to stand
between us and Chattanooga, so they can cut off our retreat, after we're
beaten, as they think we surely will be. But their main force is not
far from us now, so a scout told me. It's massed heavily along the right
bank of the Chickamauga."

"And if there's a battle to-morrow we're likely to receive the first
attack?"

"Could it come any better than at the place where Thomas stands?"

They sat long by the fire and Dick could not rest. Shiloh, his capture,
and his knowledge of the secret Southern advance, of which he could give
no warning, came back to him with uncommon vividness. He knew that
no suc