ntending to reap the full advantage of the surprise,
he continually pushed them forward upon the shattered Northern lines.
He led in person and on horseback the attack upon the Federal center.
Around and behind him rode his staff, and the wild rebel yell swept
again through the forest, when the soldiers saw the stern and lofty
features of the chief whom they trusted, leading them on.

But fate in the very moment of triumph that seemed overwhelming and sure
was preparing a terrible blow for the South. A bullet struck Johnston in
the ankle. His boot filled with blood, and the wound continued to bleed
fast. But, despite the urging of his surgeon, who rode with him, he
refused to dismount and have the wound bound up. How could he dismount
at such a time, when the battle was at its height, and the Union army
was being driven into the creeks and swamps! He was wounded again by a
piece of shell, and he sank dying from his horse. His officers crowded
around him, seeking to hide their irreparable loss from the soldiers,
the most costly death, with the exception of Stonewall Jackson's,
sustained by the Confederacy in the whole war.

But the troops, borne on by the impetus that success and the spirit of
Johnston had given them, drove harder than ever against the Northern
line. They crashed through it in many places, seizing prisoners and
cannon. Almost the whole Northern camp was now in their possession, and
many of the Southern lads, hungry from scanty rations, stopped to seize
the plenty that they found there, but enough persisted to give the
Northern army no rest, and press it back nearer and nearer to the
marshes.

The combat redoubled around Sherman. Johnston was gone, but his generals
still shared his resolution. They turned an immense fire upon the point
where stood Sherman and McClernand, now united by imminent peril. Their
ranks were searched by shot and shell, and the bullets whizzed among
them like a continuous swarm of hornets.

Dick was still unwounded, but so much smoke and vapor had drifted about
his face that he was compelled at times to rub his eyes that he might
see. He felt a certain dizziness, too, and he did not know whether the
incessant roaring in his ears came wholly from the cannon and rifle fire
or partly from the pounding of his blood.

"I feel that we are shaking," he shouted in the ears of Warner, who lay
next to him. "I'm afraid we're going to give ground."

"I feel it, too," Warner shouted back