unted but those in the reserve
were brought up instead.

The appalling tumult increased. The shells shrieked as they flew
through the air in hundreds, and shrapnel and grape whined incessantly.
Harry thought it in very truth the valley of destruction, and it was a
relief to him when he received an order to carry and could turn away for
a little while. He saw now in the rear the brigades of Pickett which
were forming up for the charge, about four thousand five hundred men who
had not yet been in the battle, while nearly ten thousand more, under
Trimble, Pettigrew and Wilcox, were ready to march on their flanks.
Pickett's men were lying on their arms patiently waiting. The time had
not quite come.

When Harry came back from his errand the cannonade was still at its
height. The roar was continuous, deafening, shaking the earth all
the time. A light wind blew the smoke back on the Southern position,
but it helped, concealing their batteries to a certain extent, while
those of the North remained uncovered.

The Northern army was now suffering terribly, although its infantry
stood unflinching under the fire. But the South was suffering too.
Guns were shattered, and the deadly rain of missiles carried destruction
into the waiting regiments. Harry saw Lee and Longstreet continually
under the Union fire. They visited the batteries and encouraged the
men. Showers of shells struck around them, but they went on unharmed.
Wherever Lee appeared the tremendous cheering could be heard amid the
roar of the guns.

Now the Southern artillerymen saw that their ammunition was diminishing
fast. Such a furious and rapid fire could not be carried on much longer,
and Lee sent the word to Pickett to charge. Harry stood by when the
men of Pickett arose--but not all of them. Some had been struck by the
shells as they lay on the ground and had died in silence, but their
comrades marched out in splendid array, and a vast shout arose from the
Southern army as they strove straight into the valley of death.

Harry shouted with the rest. He was wild with excitement. Every nerve
in him tingled, and once more the black specks danced before his eyes in
myriads. Peace or war! Right or wrong! He was always glad that he saw
Pickett's charge, the charge that dimmed all other charges in history,
the most magnificent proof of man's courage and ability to walk straight
into the jaws of death.

The dauntless Virginians marched out in even a