rals who always set their faces
toward the front and never turn them toward the rear. You will this day
prove yourselves worthy of Grant and Thomas."

They were about to cheer, but he checked it with the simple gesture of
a raised hand. Then they did a thing that only a beloved leader could
inspire. Every man in the regiment, resting his carbine across the
pommel of his saddle, drew his heavy cavalry saber and made it whirl in
coils of glittering light about his head.

The great pulse in Dick's throat leaped as he saw. The long double line
seemed to give back a double flash of flame. Not a word was said, and
then eight hundred sabers rattled together as they were dropped back
into their scabbards. Colonel Winchester's face flushed deeply at the
splendid salute, but he did not speak either. He took off his cap and
swept it in a wide curve to all his men. Then he turned his face toward
the enemy.

The Southern trumpet was singing in the forest, and the force of
Forrest, about twelve hundred strong, was emerging into view. Dick,
through his glasses, saw and recognized the famous leader, a powerful,
bearded man, riding a great bay horse. He had heard many descriptions of
him and he knew him instinctively. He also recognized the fact that the
Winchester regiment had before it the most desperate work any men could
do, if it beat off Forrest when he came in his own country with superior
numbers.

Neither side had artillery, not even the light guns that could be
carried horse- or muleback. It must be left to carbine and saber.
Colonel Winchester carefully watched his formidable foe, trying to
divine every trick and expedient that he might use. He had a memory to
avenge. He had news to carry to Grant, and Forrest must not keep
him from carrying it. Moreover, his regiment and he would gain great
prestige if they could beat off Forrest. There would be glory for the
whole Union cavalry if they drove back the Southern attack. Dick saw the
glitter of his colonel's eye and the sharp compression of his lips.

But the men of Forrest, although nearly within rifle shot, did not
charge. Their bugle sang again, but Dick did not know what the tune
meant. Then they melted away into the deep forest on their flank, and
some of the troop thought they had gone, daunted by the firm front of
their foe.

But Dick knew better. Forrest would never retreat before an inferior
force, and he was full of wiles and stratagems. Dick felt like a
primi