But the last straw had not yet been laid upon the camel's back.
McClernand was beaten, but the hardy men of Kentucky, East Tennessee and
the northwest still offered desperate resistance. Conspicuous among the
defenders was the regiment of young pioneers from Nebraska, hunters,
Indian fighters, boys of twenty or less, who had suffered already every
form of hardship. They stood undaunted amid the showers of bullets and
shells and cried to the others to stand with them.

Yet the condition of the Union army steadily grew worse. Dick himself,
in all the smoke and shouting and confusion, could see it. The regiments
that formed the core of resistance were being pared down continually.
There was a steady dribble of fugitives to the rear, and those who
fought felt themselves going back always, like one who slips on ice.

The sun, far up the heavens, now poured down beams upon the vast cloud
of smoke and vapor in which the two armies fought. The few people left
in Dover, red hot for the South, cheered madly as they saw their enemy
driven further and further away.

Grant, the man of destiny, ill clad and insignificant in appearance, now
came upon the field and saw his beaten army. But the bulldog in him shut
down its teeth and resolved to replace defeat with victory. His greatest
qualities, strength and courage in the face of disaster, were now about
to shine forth. His countenance showed no alarm. He rode among the men
cheering them to renewed efforts. He strengthened the weak places in the
line that his keen eyes saw. He infused a new spirit into the army.
His own iron temper took possession of the troops, and that core of
resistance, desperate when he came, suddenly hardened and enlarged.

Dick felt the change. It was of the mind, but it was like a cool breath
upon the face. It was as if the winds had begun to blow courage. A great
shout rolled along the Northern line.

"Grant has come!" exclaimed Pennington, who was bleeding from a slight
wound in the shoulder, but who was unconscious of it. "And we've quit
retreating!"

The Nebraska youth had divined the truth. Just when a complete Southern
victory seemed to be certain the reversal of fortune came. The coolness,
the courage, and the comprehensive eye of Grant restored the battle
for the North. The Southern reserves had not charged with the fire and
spirit expected, and, met with a shattering fire by the Indiana troops,
they fell back. Grant saw the opportunity, and massi