The division of Sherman had been standing there seven hours, sustaining with undaunted courage the resolute attacks of the Southern army, but the sixth sense warning Dick that it had begun to shake at last was true.  The sun had now passed the zenith and was pouring intense and fiery rays upon the field, sometimes piercing the clouds of smoke, and revealing the faces of the men, black with sweat and burned gunpowder.

A cry arose for Grant.  Why did not their chief show himself upon the field!  Was so great a battle to be fought with him away?  And where was Buell?  He had a second great army.  He was to join them that day.  What good would it be for him to come tomorrow?  Many of them laughed in bitter derision.  And there was Lew Wallace, too!  They had heard that he was near the field with a strong division.  Then why did he not come upon it and face the enemy?  Again they laughed that fierce and bitter laugh deep down in their throats.

The attack upon Sherman never ceased for an instant.  Now he was assailed not only from the front, but from both flanks, and some even gaining the rear struck blows upon his division there.  One brigade upon his left was compelled to give way, scattered, and lost its guns.  The right wing was also driven in, and the center yielded slowly, although retaining its cohesion.

The three lads were on their feet now, and it seemed to them that everything was lost.  They could see the battle in front of them only, but rumors came to them that the army was routed elsewhere.  But neither Sherman nor McClernand would yield, save for the slow retreat, yielding ground foot by foot only.  And there were many unknown heroes around them.  Sergeant Whitley blazed with courage and spirit.

“We could be worse off than we are!” he shouted to Dick.  “General Buell’s army may yet come!”

“Maybe we could be worse off than we are, but I don’t see how it’s possible!” shouted Dick in return, a certain grim humor possessing him for the moment.

“Look!  What I said has come true already!” shouted the sergeant.  “Here is shelter that will help us to make a new stand!”

In their slow retreat they reached two low hills, between which a small ravine ran.  It was not a strong position, but Sherman used it to the utmost.  His men fired from the protecting crests of the hills, and he filled the ravine with riflemen, who poured a deadly fire upon their assailants.

Now Sherman ordered them to stand fast to the last man, because it was by this road that the division of Lew Wallace must come, if it came at all.  But Southern brigades followed them and the battle raged anew, as fierce and deadly as ever.