vernor Harris of Tennessee, his aide, observed him at the same moment
and spurred his horse to his side.

The General turned his dim eyes to the Governor and gasped:

"I fear I'm mortally wounded--"

He reeled in his saddle and would have fallen had not Dick caught him
and tenderly lowered him to the ground.

The brave war Governor of Tennessee received the falling Commander in
his arms and helped Dick bear him a short distance from the field into a
deep ravine.

Dick took the flask of whiskey from his pocket and pressed it to his
lips in vain. A moment and he was dead.

In a passion of grief the boy threw his arms around his beloved Chief
and called through his tears and groans:

"My God, General, you can't die--you mustn't die now! Don't you hear the
boys shouting? They're driving Grant's army into the river. They've
avenged Donelson!--General--for God's sake speak to me--say you won't
die--you can't, you can't--Oh, Lord God, save his precious life!--"

No sign or answer came. His breast had ceased to move. The Governor
tenderly lifted the grief-stricken boy and sent him with his General's
last message.

"Find Beauregard and tell him he is in command of the field. Not a word
of the death of the Chief until his victory is complete."

Dick saluted and sprang into the saddle.

"I understand, sir."

[Illustration: "Dick saluted and sprang into the saddle--'I understand,
sir'"]

It was late in the afternoon before he located General Beauregard and
delivered the fateful news.

The victorious Confederate army had furiously pressed its charge.
Johnston's word had passed from command to command.

"Forward--forward--let every order be forward!"

Everything had yielded at last before them. From camp to camp, from
rallying point to rallying point the Union hosts had been hurled,
division piling on division in wild confusion.

Driven headlong, the broken ranks were thrown in panic on the banks of
the river. Thousands crouched in ravines and sought shelter under the
steep bluffs of the river banks. Trampling mobs were struggling in vain
to board the transports and cross the river. The Federal reserve line
had been completely crushed, and the entire army, driven from the field
they had held that morning, were huddled in a confused mass of a half
mile around the Pittsburg Landing.

The next charge of the Confederates would hurl the whole army into the
river or they must surrender.

The gunboats had opened in