ges of bayonets. But the regiment, although torn by bullets, did
not give ground. The charge shivered against them, and the Southern
troops fell back. Yet it was only for a moment. They came again to be
driven back as before, and then once more they charged, while their
resolute foe swung forward to meet them rank to rank.

Dick was not conscious of much except that he shouted continuously to
the men to stand firm, and wondered now and then why he had not been
hit. The Union men and their enemy were reeling back and forth, neither
winning, neither losing, while the thunder of battle along a long and
curving front beat heavily on the drums of every ear. The smoke, low
down, was scattered by the cannon and rifles, but above it gathered in a
great cloud that seemed to be shot with fire.

The two colonels, Winchester and Newcomb, were able and valiant men.
Despite their swelling losses they always filled up the ranks and held
fast to the ground upon which they had stood when they were attacked.
But for the present they had no knowledge how the battle was going
elsewhere. The enemy just before them allowed no idle moments.

Yet Grant, as happened later on at Shiloh, was taken by surprise. When
the first roar of the battle broke with the dawn he was away conferring
with the wounded naval commander, Foote. His right, under McClernand,
had been caught napping, and eight thousand Southern troops striking it
with a tremendous impact just as the men snatched up their arms, drove
it back in heavy loss and confusion. Its disaster was increased when a
Southern general, Baldwin, led a strong column down a deep ravine near
the river and suddenly hurled it upon the wavering Union flank.

Whole regiments retreated now, and guns were lost. The Southern
officers, their faces glowing, shouted to each other that the battle
was won. And still the combat raged without the Union commander, Grant,
although he was coming now as fast as he could with the increasing roar
of conflict to draw him on. The battle was lost to the North. But
it might be won back again by a general who would not quit. Only the
bulldog in Grant, the tenacious death grip, could save him now.

Dick and his friends suddenly became conscious that both on their right
and left the thunder of battle was moving back upon the Union camp.
They realized now that they were only the segment of a circle extending
forward practically within the Union lines, and that the combat
was go