Joseph A Altsheler – Civil War 06 – Rock of Chickamauga. Chapter 11, 12

He, too, fell asleep before long. Warner glanced at his comrades who slept so well on a hard bench, and his look was rather envious. He returned his beloved algebra to his pocket, leaned back on the bench also, and, although he had not believed it possible, slept also inside of five minutes. Colonel Winchester passing smiled sympathetically, but his glance lingered longest on Dick.

After days on the water the regiment disembarked, marched more days across the country, joining other regiments on the way, and reached the rear guard of the army of Rosecrans, which was already marching southward in the direction of Chattanooga to meet that of Bragg. They advanced now over the Cumberland mountains through a country wild and thinly inhabited. The summer was waning, but it was cool on the mountains and in the passes, nor was it so dry as the year before, when they fought that terrible battle at Perryville in Kentucky.

Dick was glad to be again in the high country, the land of firm soil and of many clear, rushing streams. Heart and lungs expanded, when he looked upon the long ridges, clothed in deep forest, and breathed the pure air that blew down from their summits. Yet his dream of peace was over. As they advanced through the forests and passes they were harassed incessantly by sharpshooters on the slopes, who melted away before them, but who returned on the very heels of the vain pursuit to vex them again with bullets.

They heard soon that the most daring of these bands was led by a man named Slade, and Dick’s pulse took a jump. He felt in a curious sort of way that this man Slade was still following him. It seemed more than a decree of chance that their fates should be intertwined. He hoped that Slade would never hear how he had been hidden in that hole in the ravine with the Woodvilles. Trouble could come of it for gallant young Victor Woodville, and even for his uncle. He was sure that Victor was now with Bragg and they might meet face to face again.

As they rode through a defile and came into a wide valley they saw before them an extensive Union camp, and they were overjoyed to learn that it was the division of Thomas, the general to whom they were to report. Dick had once received the personal thanks of Thomas, and the grave, able man inspired him with immense respect, mingled with affection.

He stood before Thomas in his tent that evening, Colonel Winchester having yielded to his request to take him with him when he reported the arrival of his regiment. Thomas, usually so taciturn, delighted the soul of the lad by remembering him at once.

“It was you, Lieutenant Mason, who came to me there in the Kentucky mountains with the dispatches,” he said, “and you were also with us at Perryville and Stone River.”

“I was, sir,” said Dick, flushing with pride.

“And you were with General Grant at the taking of Vicksburg! It was a great exploit, and it has lifted us up mightily. But I’m glad to have you back along with Colonel Winchester and the rest of his brave lads. I think you’ll see action before long, action perhaps on a greater scale than any witnessed hitherto in the West.”

Dick saluted and withdrew. He knew that a young lieutenant must not stay too long in the presence of a commanding general and he quickly rejoined Warner and Pennington.

“How’s the old man?” asked Pennington, with the familiarity of youth, which was not disrespectful in the absence of the “old man.”

“‘Pap’ Thomas is looking well,” replied Dick. “I fancy that his digestion was never better. He did not act in a belligerent way, but I think he’s hunting for a fight.”

“Since you and Warner and I have arrived he can begin it.”

“I think it’s coming,” said Dick earnestly. “Often you can feel when things are moving to some end, and I’m sure that we’ll measure strength again with Bragg before the autumn has gone far.”

The valley in which the camp lay was green and beautiful, and a deep, clear little river from the mountains, ran rushing, through it. The three lads lay on their blankets near the bank and listened to the musical sweep of the stream. Pennington suddenly sprang up and hailed:

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