He paused, and Dick said:
“Yes, Colonel, it’s true.”
“I suppose we must endure it. I should have gone myself and have offered my sword to General Grant, but this confounded leg of mine is still weak.”
“At least, sir, we come with something besides arms. May I bring you rations?”
“You are generous, young man, and my daughter and I appreciate the obvious nature of your errand here. Speaking for both of us, a little food will not be unwelcome.”
“Tell me first, what has become of your nephew. Has he escaped from the city?”
“He slipped out nearly a week ago, and will join his father’s regiment in Bragg’s command. That scoundrel, Slade, is gone too. Since the city had to be surrendered I would gladly have made you a present of Slade, but it’s out of my power now.”
Dick soon returned with ample food for them and helped them later, when they moved to quarters outside in the shell-torn city. Dick saw that they were comfortable, and then his mind turned toward Tennessee. Detachments from Grant’s army were to be sent to that of Rosecrans, who was now heavily threatened by Bragg, and the Winchester regiment, which really belonged with him, was sure to go.
The order to march soon came, and it was welcome. The regiment, or rather what was left of it, promptly embarked upon one of the river steamers and started northward.
As they stood on the deck and looked down at the yellow waters in which Dick had swum on his trusty plank Warner said:
“I’ve news of importance. It arrived in a telegram to General Grant, and I heard it just as we were coming on board.”
“What is it?” asked Dick.
“General Lee was defeated in a great battle at a little place called Gettysburg in Pennsylvania, and has retreated into Virginia.”
“Gettysburg and Vicksburg!” exclaimed Dick. “The wheel has turned nearly ’round. The Confederacy is doomed now.”
“I think so, too,” said Warner.
CHAPTER XII. AN AFFAIR OF THE MOUNTAINS
Although they were on board one of the fastest steamers in the Union service, Dick and his comrades had a long journey by river. But it was not unpleasant. They enjoyed the rest and ease after the weeks of fighting and service in the trenches before Vicksburg. The absence of war and the roar of cannon and rifles was like a happy dream between days of fighting. As they went northward on the great river it almost seemed as if peace had returned.
Warner studied his algebra and two other books of mathematics which he was lucky enough to find on board. Pennington slept a great deal of the time.
“I learned it on the plains from the Indians,” he said. “When they don’t have anything to do they sleep and gather strength for the hour of need. I think the time is coming soon when they won’t let me sleep at all, and then I can draw on the great supply I have in stock.”
“Likely enough it’s near,” said Dick dreamily. “They say Bragg has a great army now, and you know that, while Rosecrans is slow he’s pretty sure. Thomas and McCook and the others are with him, too. I expect to see ‘Pap’ Thomas again. He’s a general to my liking.”
“And to mine, too,” said Pennington, “but we can talk about him later on, because I’m going to sleep again inside of a minute.”
Dick was not averse to silence, as he, too, was half asleep; that is, he was in a dreamy stage, and he was at peace with the world and his fellow men. From under drooping eyelids he was vaguely watching the low shores of the Mississippi, and the great mass of yellow waters moving onward from the far vague forests of the North in their journey of four thousand miles to the gulf.
Like all boys of the great valley, Dick always felt the romance and spell of the Mississippi. It was to him and them one of the greatest facts in the natural world, the grave of De Soto, the stream on which their fathers and forefathers had explored and traded and fought since their beginnings. Now it was fulfilling its titanic role again, and the Union fleets upon its bosom were splitting the Confederacy asunder.