“I shouldn’t be surprised if we found them gone in the morning,” said Major Hertford to Dick.  “But I think our general is right in not making any attack upon their works.  What do you say to that, Sergeant Whitley?  You’ve had a lot of experience.”

Sergeant Whitley was standing beside them, also trying to pierce the darkness with trained eyes, although he could not see the Confederate intrenchments.

“If a sergeant may offer an opinion I agree with you fully, sir,” he said.  “A night attack is always risky, an’ most of all, sir, when troops are new like ours, although they’re as brave as anybody.  More’n likely if we was to rush on ’em our troops would be shootin’ into one another in the darkness.”

“Good logic,” said Major Hertford, “and as it is quite certain that they are not in any condition to come out and attack us we’ll stand by and wait till morning.  So the general orders.”

They walked back toward the place where the victorious troops were lighting the fires, out of the range of the cannon in the Confederate intrenchments.  They were exultant, but they were not boasting unduly.  Night, cold and dark, had shut down upon them and was taking the heat out of their blood.  Hundreds of men were at work building fires, and Dick and Warner, with the permission of Major Hertford, joined them.

Both boys felt that the work would be a relief.  Wood was to be had in abundance.  The forest stretched on all sides of them in almost unbroken miles, and the earth was littered with dead wood fallen a year or years before.  They merely kept away from the side on which the Confederate intrenchments lay, and brought in the wood in great quantities.  A row of lights a half mile long sprang up, giving forth heat and warmth.  Then arose the cheerful sound of tin and iron dishes and cups rattling against one another.  A quarter of an hour later they were eating a victorious supper, and a little later most of them slept.

But in the night the Confederate troops abandoned their camp, leaving in it ten cannon and fifteen hundred wagons and crossed the river in boats, which they destroyed when they reached the other side.  Then, their defeat being so severe, and they but volunteers, they scattered in the mountains to seek food and shelter for the remainder of the winter.

This army of the South ceased to exist.

CHAPTER VII

THE MESSENGER

Victory, overwhelming and complete, had been won, but General Thomas could not follow into the deep mountains where his army might be cut off.  So he remained where he was for a little while and on the second day he sent for Dick.

The general was seated alone in a tent, an open end of which faced a fire, as it was now extremely cold.  General Thomas had shown no undue elation over his victory.  He was as silent as ever, and now, as always, he made upon Dick the impression of strength and indomitable courage.