oss his shoulders, and as
it was dark and the soldiers were firing at random, he calculated that
there was not one chance in a million of his being injured, and so
through the night he went on with his reconnoissance along the lines,
and completed the work assigned him.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE BATTLE.

In the morning he found General Grant in a little old farm-house, where
he had established his head-quarters. He appeared to be pleased with the
map which Paul made of the ground, and said to Major Cavender, who
commanded the regiment of Missouri Artillery, "Place your guns on that
hill, and be ready to open upon the fort." He issued orders to General
McClernand to go round to the southwest side of the town; to General
Wallace, to hold the centre of the line, west of the town; and to
General Smith, to be ready to storm the fort on the northwest side.

It was a beautiful morning. The air was mild, and the birds sang in the
trees though it was mid-winter. The sharpshooters ate their breakfast
before sunrise, and began the battle by exchanging shots with the Rebel
pickets. Though Paul had been up all night, there was no time for rest.
He was sent with orders to the artillery officers,--to Captain Taylor,
Captain Dresser, and Captain Schwartz, telling them where to place their
guns. As he rode over the hills and through the ravines, he passed the
sharpshooters. Their rifles were cracking merrily. Among them was the
soldier whom Paul had helped on the march. The soldier saluted him. Paul
saw that he was not only foot-sore, but also sick.

"You are not fit to go into battle; you ought to report to the surgeon,"
said Paul.

"I wouldn't miss of being in this scrimmage that we are going to have
to-day for the best farm in Illinois," said the soldier.

Just then, the rebel cannon opened, and the shells came crashing through
the front. Major Cavender had wheeled his guns into position, and was
sighting them. One of the shells struck at his feet, and ploughed a deep
furrow in the ground. Another struck a poor fellow in the breast,
whirled him into the air, spattering his blood upon those who stood
around, killing him instantly. As Paul beheld the quivering flesh, the
sight filled him with horror, and made him sick at heart. Such might be
his fate before the day was done. He thought of home,--of his mother, of
Azalia, and of the dear friends far away. He thought also of God, and
the hereafter; but remembered that he was in