“Thomas will save us,” he said.

The skirmishers on both sides were driven in.  Their scattered fire ceased, but a moment later the whole front of the Southern army burst into flame.  It seemed to Dick that one vast sheet of light like a sword blade suddenly shot forward, and then a storm of lead, bearing many messengers of death, beat upon the Northern army, shattering its front lines and carrying confusion among its young troops.  But the officers and a few old regulars like Sergeant Whitley steadied them and they returned the fire.

Major Hertford, Dick and Warner were all on foot, and their own little band, already tried in battle, yielded not an inch.  They formed a core of resistance around which others rallied and Thomas himself was passing along the line, giving heart to the lads fresh from the farms.

But the Southern army fired again, and shouting the long fierce rebel yell, charged with all its strength.  Dick saw before him a vast cloud of smoke, through which fire flashed and bullets whistled.  He heard men around him uttering short cries of pain, and he saw others fall, mostly sinking forward on their faces.  But those who stood, held fast and loaded and fired until the barrels of their rifles burned to the touch.

Dick felt many tremors at first, but soon the passion of battle seized him.  He carried no rifle, but holding his officer’s small sword in his hand he ran up and down the line crying to the men to stand firm, that they would surely beat back the enemy.  That film of fire and smoke was yet before his eyes, but he saw through it the faces of his countrymen still coming on.  He heard to his right the thudding of the great guns that Thomas had planted on a low hill, but the rifle fire was like the beat of hail, a crackling and hissing that never ceased.

The farm lads, their rifles loaded afresh, fired anew at the enemy, almost in their faces, and the Southern line here reeled back against so firm and deadly a front.

But an alarming report ran down the line that their left was driven back, and it was true.  The valiant Zollicoffer leading his brigade in person, had rushed upon this portion of the Northern army which was standing upon another low hill and struck it with great violence.  It was wavering and would give way soon.  But Thomas, showing the singular calm that always marked him in battle, noticed the weak spot.  The general was then near Major Hertford.  He quickly wrote a dispatch and beckoned to Dick: 

“Here,” he said, “jump on the horse that the sergeant is holding for me, and bring up our reserve, the brigade under General Carter.  They are to meet the attack there on the hill, where our troops are wavering!”

Dick, aflame with excitement, leaped into the saddle, and while the roar of battle was still in his ears reached the brigade of Carter, already marching toward the thick of the conflict.  One entire regiment, composed wholly of Kentuckians, was detached to help the Indiana troops who were being driven fiercely by Zollicoffer.