As Sherburne had expected, few of the Northern bullets struck home. Some knocked bark from the trees, others kicked up dirt from the frozen road, but most of them sang vainly through the empty air and passed far beyond. Now the Southerners sent their fire full into the Union ranks, and, at Sherburne’s shouted command, charged, with their leader at their head swinging his sword in glittering circles like some knight of old.
The Southern volley had brought down many horses and men, but the Northern force was double in numbers and many of the men carried new breech-loading rifles of the best make. While unused to horses and largely ignorant of the country, they had good officers and they stood firm. The Southern charge, meeting a second volley from the breech- loading rifles, broke upon their front.
Harry, almost by the side of Sherburne, felt the shock as they galloped into the battle smoke, and then he felt the Virginians reel. He heard around him the rapid crackle of rifles and pistols, sabers clashing together, the shouts of men, the terrible neighing of wounded horses, and then the two forces drew apart, leaving a sprinkling of dead and wounded between.
It was a half retreat by either, the two drawing back sixty or seventy yards apiece and then beginning a scattered and irregular fire from the rifles. But Sherburne, alert always, soon drew his men into the shelter of the woods, and attempted an attack on his enemy’s flank.
Some destruction was created in the Union ranks by the fire from the cover of the forest, but the officers of the opposing force showed skill, too. Harry had no doubt from the way the Northern troops were handled that at least two or three West Pointers were there. They quickly fell back into the forest on the other side of the road, and sent return volleys.
Harry heard the whistle and whizz of bullets all about them. Bark was clipped from trees and dry twigs fell. Yet little damage was done by either. The forest, although leafless, was dense, and trunks and low boughs afforded much shelter. Both ceased fire presently, seeming to realize at the same moment that nothing was being done, and hovered among the trees, each watching for what the other would try next.
Harry kept close to Captain Sherburne, whose face plainly showed signs of deep disgust. His heart was full of battle and he wished to get at the enemy. But prudence forbade another charge upon a force double his numbers and now sheltered by a wood. At this moment it was the boy beside him who was cooler than he.
“Captain Sherburne,” he suggested mildly, “didn’t General Jackson merely want to find out what was ahead of him? When the army comes up it will sweep this force out of its way.”
“That’s so,” agreed Sherburne reluctantly, “but if we retire they’ll claim a victory, and our men will be depressed by the suspicion of defeat.”
“But the Yankees are retiring already. Look, you can see them withdrawing! They were on the same business that we were, and it’s far more important for them to be sure that Jackson is advancing than it is for us to know that an enemy’s in front.”
“You’re right. We knew already that he was there, and we were watching to get him. It’s foolish for us to stay here, squabbling with a lot of obstinate Yankees. We’ll go back to Jackson as fast as we can. You’re a bright boy, Harry.”
He dropped a hand affectionately on Harry’s shoulder, then gave the order to the men and they turned their horses’ heads toward the army. At the same time they saw with their own eyes the complete withdrawal of the Union troops, and the proud Virginians were satisfied. It was no defeat. It was merely a parting by mutual consent, each moving at the same instant, that is, if the Yankees didn’t go first.
They galloped back over the frozen road, and Captain Sherburne admitted once more to himself the truth of Harry’s suggestion. Already the twilight was coming, and again it was heavy with clouds. In the east all the peaks and ridges were wrapped about with them, and the captain knew that they meant more snow. Heavy snow was the worst of all things for the advance of Jackson.