“And when do you think we’ll reach ’em?”

“Tomorrow, I suppose.”

The day passed without any interruption to the advance of the fleet, although there was occasional firing, but not of a serious nature.  Now and then small bands of Confederate skirmishers sent rifle shots from high points along the bank toward the fleet, but they did no damage and the ships steamed steadily on.

The third night out came, and again the young soldiers slept soundly, but the next morning, soon after breakfast, the whole fleet stopped in the middle of the river.  A thrill of excitement ran through the army when the news filtered from ship to ship that they were now in Tennessee, and that Fort Henry, which they were to attack, was just ahead.

Nevertheless, they seemed to be yet in the wilderness.  The Tennessee, in flood, spread its yellow waters through forest and undergrowth, and the chill gray sky still gave a uniform somber, gray tint to everything.  Bugles blew in the boats, and every soldier began to put himself and his weapons in order.  The command to make a landing had been given, and Commodore Foote was feeling about for a place.

Dick now realized the enormous advantage of supremacy upon the water.  Had the Confederates possessed armored ships to meet them, the landing of a great army under fire would be impossible, but now they chose their own time and went about it unvexed.

A place was found at last, a rude wharf was constructed hastily, and the fleet disgorged the army, boat by boat.  Vast quantities of stores and heavy cannon were also brought ashore.  Despite the cold, Dick and his comrades perspired all the morning over their labors and were covered with mud when the camp was finally constructed at some distance back of the Tennessee, on the high ground beyond the overflow.  The transports remained at anchor, but the fighting boats were to drop down the stream and attack the fort at noon the next day from the front, while the army assailed it at the same time from the rear.

The detachment of Pennsylvanians was by the side of Colonel Winchester’s Kentucky regiment, and Colonel Newcomb and his staff messed with Colonel Winchester and his officers.  There was water everywhere, and before they ate they washed the mud off themselves as best they could.

“I suppose,” said Warner, “that seventy per cent of our work henceforth will be marching through the mud, and thirty per cent of it will be fighting the rebels in Fort Henry.  I hear that we’re not to attack until tomorrow, so I mean to sleep on top of a cannon tonight, lest I sink out of sight in the mud while I’m asleep.”

“There’s some pleasure,” said Pennington, “in knowing that we won’t die of thirst.  You could hardly call this a parched and burning desert.”

But as they worked all the remainder of the day on the construction of the camp, they did not care where they slept.  When their work was over they simply dropped where they stood and slumbered soundly until morning.