to wait. Better
get off your horses, boys, and hunt the shade."

They rode back and obeyed. It was now getting well along into the
afternoon. Thousands of soldiers lay on the grass in the shadiest places
they could find. Many were asleep. Overhead the sun burned and burned in
a sky of absolute blazing white.

A cannon boomed suddenly and then another. The artillery of the two
armies watching one another had opened at long range, but the fire was
so distant that it did no harm. Dick and his comrades watched the shells
in their flight, noting the trails of white smoke they left behind, and
then the showers of earth that flew up when they burst. It was rather a
pleasant occupation to watch them. In a way it broke the monotony of a
long summer day.

They did not know that Polk, the bishop-general, was arriving at that
moment in the Southern camp with five thousand men. Bragg had come, too,
but he left the command to Polk, who outranked Hardee, and the three
together listened to the long-range cannonade, while they also examined
with powerful glasses the Union army which was now mostly lying on the
ground.

Dick himself felt a strong temptation to sleep. The march through the
heat that morning had been dusty and tiresome, and the warm wind that
blew over him made his eyelids very heavy. The cannonade itself was
conducive to slumber. The guns were fired at regular intervals, which
created a sort of rhythm. The shells with their trailing white smoke
ceased to interest him, and his eyelids grew heavier. It was now about
2:30 o'clock and as his eyes were about to close a sudden shout made him
open them wide and then spring to his feet.

"Look out! Look out!" cried Sergeant Whitley, "The Johnnies are coming!"

The Union forces in an instant were in line, rifles ready and eager.
The gray masses were already charging across the fields and hills, while
their cannon made a sudden and rapid increase in the volume of fire.
Their batteries were coming nearer, too, and the shells hitherto
harmless were now shrieking and hissing among their ranks, killing and
wounding.

Dick looked around him. The members of the slim Winchester regiment were
all veterans; but thousands of the Ohio lads were recruits who had never
seen battle before. Now shell and shot were teaching them the terrible
realities. He saw many a face grow pale, as his own had often grown
pale, in the first minutes of battle, but he did not see any one flinch.

The No