Colonel Winchester signalled to Dick and Pennington, and mounting their horses they rode with him to the crest of the highest adjacent hill.  Presently General Grant came and with him were the generals, McClernand and Smith.  Colonel Newcomb also arrived, attended by Warner.  The high officers examined the fort a long time through their glasses, but Dick noticed that at times they watched the river.  He knew they were looking there for the black plumes of smoke which should mark the coming of the steamers out of the Ohio.

But nothing showed on the surface of the Cumberland.  The river, dark gray under lowering clouds, flowed placidly on, washing the base of Fort Donelson.  At intervals of a minute or two there was a flash of fire from the fort, and the menacing boom of the cannon rolled through the desolate forest.  Now and then, a gun from one of the Northern batteries replied.  But it was as yet a desultory battle, with much noise and little danger, merely a threat of what was to come.

After a while Colonel Winchester wrote something on a slip of paper: 

“Take this to our lieutenant-colonel,” he said.  “It is an order for the regiment to hold itself in complete readiness, although no action may come for some time.  Then return here at once.”

Dick rode back swiftly, but on his way he suddenly bent over his saddle bow.  A shell from the fort screamed over his head in such a menacing fashion that it seemed to be only a few inches from him.  But it passed on, leaving him unharmed, and burst three hundred yards away.

Dick instantly straightened up in the saddle, looked around, breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that no one had noticed his sudden bow, and galloped on with the order.  The lieutenant-colonel read it and nodded.  Then Dick rode back to the hill where the generals were yet watching in vain for those black plumes of smoke on the Cumberland.

They left the hill at last and the generals went to their brigades.  General Grant was smoking a cigar and his face was impassive.

“We’re to open soon with the artillery,” said Colonel Winchester to Dick.  “General Grant means to push things.”

The desultory firing, those warning guns, ceased entirely, and for a while both armies stood in almost complete silence.  Then a Northern battery on the right opened with a tremendous crash and the battle for Donelson had begun.  A Southern battery replied at once and the firing spread along the whole vast curve.  Shells and solid shot whistled through the air, but the troops back of the guns crouched in hasty entrenchments, and waited.

The great artillery combat went on for some time.  To many of the lads on either side it seemed for hours.  Then the guns on the Northern side ceased suddenly, bugles sounded, and the regiments, drawn up in line, rushed at the outer fortifications.

Colonel Winchester and his staff had dismounted, but Dick and Pennington, keeping by the colonel’s side, drew their swords and rushed on shouting.  The Southerners inside the fort fired their cannon as fast as they could now, and at closer range opened with the rifles.  Dick heard once again that terrible shrieking of metal so close to his ears, and then he heard, too, cries of pain.  Many of the young soldiers behind him were falling.