soldiers were kept in the intrenchments,
in the rifle-pits, and ditches, to be in readiness to repel an assault.
They could not keep up great, roaring fires, for fear of inviting a
night attack. Through the long hours the soldiers of both armies kept
their positions, exposed to the fury of the winter storm, not only the
severest storm of the season, but the wildest and coldest that had been
known for many years in that section of the country.

FRIDAY.

Friday morning dawned, and with the first rays of light the rifles
cracked in the frosty air. The sharpshooters, though they had passed a
sleepless night, were in their places behind rocks and stumps and trees.
Neither army was ready to recommence the struggle. General Grant was out
of provisions. The transports, with supplies and reinforcements, had not
arrived. Only one gunboat, the Carondelet, had come.

It was a critical hour. What if the Rebels, with their superior force,
should march out from their intrenchments and make an attack? How long
could the half-frozen, exhausted, hungry men maintain their ground?
Where were the gunboats? Where the transports? Where the reinforcements?
There were no dark columns of smoke rising above the forest-trees,
indicating the approach of the belated fleet.

General Grant grew anxious. Orders were despatched to General Wallace at
Fort Henry to hasten over with his troops. There was no thought of
giving up the enterprise.

"We came here to take the fort, and we intend to do it," said Colonel
Oglesby.

A courier came dashing through the woods. He had been on the watch three
miles down the river, looking for the gunboats. He had descried a dense
cloud of black smoke in the distance, and started with the welcome
intelligence. They were coming. The Carondelet, which had been lying
quietly in the stream below the fort, steamed up against the current,
and tossed a shell towards the Rebels. The deep boom of the columbiad
echoed over the hills of Tennessee. The troops answered with a cheer
from the depths of the forest. They could see the trailing black banners
of smoke from the steamer. They became light-hearted. The wounded lying
in the hospitals, stiff, sore, mangled, their wounds undressed, chilled,
frozen, covered with ice and snow, forgot their sufferings. So the fire
of patriotism burned within their hearts, which could not be quenched by
sufferings worse than death itself.

The provisions, troops, and artillery were landed a