“I don’t think there’s any doubt of it, Happy. I saw how they agreed the first time they met, and you can see it now. You’ll find them working together as smooth as silk. Ah, here we go again!”

“Then if it’s as you say I suppose it’s all up with McClellan, and I needn’t trouble my mind about the matter any more. Hereafter I’ll just go ahead and obey orders.”

The words were light, but there was no frivolity in the minds of the three. Despite the many battles through which they had already gone their hearts were beating hard just then, while that roaring was going on on the horizon, and they knew that a great battle was at hand.

Lee and his staff rode toward the battle, and then, to the amazement of his men, Jackson led his army into the deep woods away from the sound of the thundering guns which had been calling to them so incessantly. Harry was mystified and the general vouchsafed no word, even to his own staff. They marched on through woods, across fields, along the edges of swamps, and that crash of battle grew fainter behind them, but never died out.

“What do you think it means?” Harry whispered to Dalton.

“Don’t know. I’m not thinking. I’m not here to think at such times. All the thinking we need is going on under the old slouch hat there. Harry, didn’t we go with him all through the valley? Can’t we still trust him?”

“I can and will.”

“Same here.”

The army curved about again. Harry, wholly unfamiliar with the country, did not notice it until the roar of the battle began to rise again, showing that they were coming nearer. Then he divined the plan. Jackson was making this circuit through the woods to fall on the Northern flank. It was the first of the great turning movements which Lee and Jackson were to carry through to brilliant success so often.

“Look at the red blaze beyond those bushes,” said Dalton, “and listen how rapidly the sound of the battle is growing in volume. I don’t know where we are, but I do know now that Old Jack is leading us right into the thick of it.”

The general rode forward and stopped his horse on the crest of a low hill. Then Harry and Dalton, looking over the bushes and swamps, saw a great blue army stationed behind a creek and some low works.

“It’s McClellan!” exclaimed Dalton.

“Or a part of him,” said Harry.

It was a wing of the Northern army. McClellan himself was not there, but many brave generals were, Porter, Slocum and the others. The batteries of this army were engaged in a heavy duel with the Southern batteries in front, and the sharpshooters in the woods and bushes kept up a continuous combat that crackled like the flames of a forest fire.

Harry drew a long breath.

“This is the biggest yet,” he said.

Dalton nodded.

The soldiers of Jackson were already marching off through the woods, floundering through deep mud, crossing little streams swollen by heavy rains, but eager to get into action.

It was very difficult for the mounted men, and Harry and Dalton at last dismounted and led their horses. The division made slow progress and as they struggled on the battle deepened. Now and then as they toiled through the muck they saw long masses of blue infantry on a ridge, and with them the batteries of great guns which the gunners of the North knew so well how to use.

Their own proximity was discovered after a while, and shell and bullets began to fly among them, but they emerged at last on firm ground and on the Northern flank.

“It’s hot and growing hotter,” said Dalton.

“And we’ll help increase the heat if we ever get through these morasses,” said Harry.

He felt the bridle suddenly pulled out of his hand, and turned to catch his runaway horse, but the horse had been shot dead and his body had fallen into the swamp. Dalton’s horse also was killed presently by a piece of shell, but the two plunged along on foot, endeavoring to keep up with the general.

The fire upon them was increasing fast. Some of the great guns on the ridge were now searching their ranks with shell and shrapnel and many a man sank down in the morass, to be lost there forever. But Jackson never ceased to urge them on. They were bringing their batteries that way, too, and men and horses alike tugged at the cannon.

“If we ever get through,” said Harry, “we’re bound to do big things.”

“We’ll get through, never fear,” said Dalton. “Isn’t Old Jack driving us?”

“Here we are!” Harry shouted suddenly as his feet felt firm ground.

“And here’s the whole division, too!” exclaimed Dalton.

The regiments and brigades of Jackson emerged from the forest, and with them came six batteries of cannon which they had almost carried over the swamp. The whole battlefield now came into sight, but the firing and the smoke were so great that it seemed to change continuously in color and even in shape. At one moment there was a ridge where none had been before, then where Harry had seen a creek there was only dry land. But he knew that they were illusions of the eyes, due to the excited brain behind them.

Harry saw the six batteries of Jackson planted in a long row on the hard ground, and then open with a terrific crash on the defenders of the ridge. The sound was so tremendous that he was deafened for a few moments. By the time his hearing was restored fully the batteries fired again and the Northern batteries on the hill replied. Then the mass of infantry charged and Harry and Dalton on foot, waving their swords and wild with excitement, charged with them.

The plans of Lee and Jackson, working together for the first time in a great battle, went through. When Lee heard the roar of Jackson’s guns on the flank he, too, sent word to his division commanders to charge with their full strength. In an instant the Northern army was assailed both in front and on the side, by a great force, rushing forward, sure of victory and sending the triumphant rebel yell echoing through the woods of the Chickahominy.

Harry felt the earth tremble beneath him as nearly a hundred thousand men closed in deadly conflict. He could hear nothing but the continued roar, and he saw only a vast, blurred mass of men and guns. But he was conscious that they were going forward, up the hill, straight toward the enemy’s works, and he felt sure of victory.

He had grounds for his faith. Lee with the smaller army, had nevertheless brought superior numbers upon the field at the point of action. Porter and Slocum were staunch defenders. The Northern army, though shattered by cannon and rifle fire, stood fast on the ridge until the charging lines were within ten feet of them. Then they gave way, but carried with them most of their cannon, reformed further back, and fought again.

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