could
convince him that a great battle was not going on, and all through the
morning he chafed and raged. And as the sound of the cannon grew louder
he believed that Grant's army was losing.

Nelson obtained Buell's leave at last to march for Shiloh, but it was
a long road across hills and creeks and through swamps. The cannon sank
deep in the mire, and then the ardent Nelson left them behind. Now he
knew there was great need for haste. The flashing and thundering in
front of them showed to the youngest soldier in his command that a great
battle was in progress, and that it was going against the North. His
division at last reached Pittsburg Landing and was carried across the
river in the steamers. One brigade led by Ammen outstripped the rest,
and rushed in behind the great battery and to its support, just as the
Southern bugles once more sounded the charge.

Dick shouted with joy, too, when he saw the new troops. The next moment
the enemy was upon them, charging directly through a frightful discharge
from the great guns. The riddled regiments, which had fought so long,
gave way before the bayonets, but the fresh troops took their places and
poured a terrible fire into the assaulting columns. And the great guns
of the battery hurled a new storm of shell and solid shot. The ranks
of the Southern troops, worn by a full day of desperate fighting, were
broken. They had crossed the ravine into the very mouths of the Northern
guns, but now they were driven back into the ravine and across it.
Cannon and rifles rained missiles upon them there, and they withdrew
into the woods, while for the first time in all that long day a shout of
triumph rose from the Union lines.

Another lull came in the battle.

"What are they doing now, Dick?" asked the Vermonter.

"I can't see very well, but they seem to be gathering in the forest for
a fresh attack. Do you know, George, that the sun is almost down?"

"It's certainly time. It's been at least a month since the Johnnies ran
out of the forest in the dawn, and jumped on us."

It was true that the day was almost over, although but few had noticed
the fact. The east was already darkening, and a rosy glow from the west
fell across the torn forest. Here and there a dead tree, set on fire
by the shells, burned slowly, little flames creeping along trunk and
boughs.

Bragg was preparing to hurl his entire force upon Sherman and the
battery. At that moment Beauregard, now his chief, arrive