He rose and rejoined Colonel Winchester again, and the two looked with awe at the gigantic combat, raging in a vast canopy of smoke, rent continuously by flashes of fire. Dick observed that the colonel was depressed and he knew the reason.
“Our men are being driven back,” he said.
“So they are,” said the colonel, “and I fear that there is confusion among them, too.”
“But we’ll hold fast here as we did yesterday!”
“I hope so. Yes, I know so, Dick. I’ve seen General Thomas twice this morning, and I know that this corps will never be routed. He’s made up his mind to hold on or die. He’s the Rock of Chickamauga.”
It was a name that Dick was to hear often afterward, and he repeated under his breath: “The Rock of Chickamauga! The Rock of Chickamauga!” It rolled resoundingly off the tongue, and he liked it.
Then came a beat of hoofs and a cavalry regiment galloped into open ground beside them. It was Colonel Hertford’s, numbering about three hundred men, some of whom were wounded. Their leader was excited, and, springing to the ground, he ran to Colonel Winchester. The two talked in quick, short sentences.
“Colonel,” exclaimed Hertford, “we’ve just had a sharp brush with that demon, Forrest, and we’ve left some good men back there. But I’ve come both to help and to warn you. We’re being driven back everywhere else, and now they’re gathering an immense mass of troops for a gigantic attack on Thomas!”
Dick heard and his breath came fast. Colonel Hertford would bring no false news, and he could see with his own eyes that the storm was curving toward them. The two men hurried to Thomas, but in a few minutes returned. Colonel Hertford sprang into the saddle and formed his cavalry on the flank as a screen against the dreaded sweep of Forrest.
There was a lull for a moment in the tremendous uproar, and, Colonel Winchester walking back and forth before his men, spoke to them briefly. He was erect, pale and handsome, and his words came without a quiver. Dick had never admired him more.
“Men,” he said, “you have never been beaten in battle, but your greatest test is now at hand. Within a few minutes you will be attacked by a force outnumbering you more than two to one. But these are the odds we love. We would not have them less. I tell you, speaking as a man to men who understand and fear not, that the fate of the day may rest with you. Many gallant comrades of ours have gone already to the far shore, and if we must go, too, to-day, let our journey be not less gallant than theirs. We can die but once, and if we must die, let us die here where we can serve our country most.”
His manner was quiet, but his words were thrilling, and the men of the regiment, springing to their feet, uttered a deep, full-throated cheer. Then sinking down again at the motion of his hand, they turned their faces to the enemy. The time had come.
The vast Southern front rushed from the wood, and the gray horsemen of Forrest, careless of death, swept down. It was a terrifying sight, that army coming on amid the thunder and lightning of battle, tens of thousands of rifle muzzles, tens of thousands of fierce brown faces showing through the smoke, and the tremendous battle yell of the South swelling over everything.
Dick felt a quiver, and then his body stiffened, as if it were about to receive a physical shock. The whole regiment fired as one man, and a gap appeared in the charging Southern column. Hertford and his horse charged upon the hostile cavalry, and all the brigades of Thomas met the Southern attack with a fire so heavy and deadly that the army of Bragg reeled back.
Then ensued the most tremendous scene through which Dick had yet passed. The Southern army came again. Bragg, Breckinridge, Buckner, Longstreet, Hill, Cleburne and the others urged on the attacks. They had been victors everywhere else and they knew that they must drive back Thomas or the triumph would not be complete. They struck and spared not, least of all their own men. They poured them, Kentuckians, Tennesseeans, Georgians, Mississippians and all the rest upon Thomas without regard to life.