dick was the first in colonel winchester's troop to see the white flag floating over fort henry and he uttered a shout of joy.

“look! look!” he cried, “the fleet has taken the fort!”

“so it has,” said colonel winchester, “and the army is not here. now i wonder what general grant will say when he learns that foote has done the work before he could come.”

but dick believed that general grant would find no fault, that he would approve instead. the feeling was already spreading among the soldiers that this man, whose name was recently so new among them, cared only for results. he was not one to fight over precedence and to feel petty jealousies.

the smoke of battle was beginning to clear away. officers were landing from the boats to receive the surrender of the fort, and colonel winchester and his troops galloped rapidly back toward the army, which they soon met, toiling through swamps and even through shallow overflow toward the tennessee. the men had been hearing for more than an hour the steady booming of the cannon, and every face was eager.

colonel winchester rode straight toward a short, thickset figure on a stout bay horse near the head of one of the columns. this man, like all the others, was plastered with mud, but colonel winchester gave him a salute of deep respect.

“what does the cessation of firing mean, colonel?” asked general grant.

“it means that fort henry has surrendered to the fleet. the southern force, which was drawn up outside, retreated southward, but the fort, its guns and immediate defenders, are ours.”

dick saw the faintest smile of satisfaction pass over the face of the general, who said:

“commodore foote has done well. ride back and tell him that the army is coming up as fast as the nature of the ground will allow.”

in a short time the army was in the fort which had been taken so gallantly by the navy, and grant, his generals, and commodore foote, were in anxious consultation. most of the troops were soon camped on the height, where the southern force had stood, and there was great exultation, but dick, who had now seen so much, knew that the high officers considered this only a beginning.

across the narrow stretch of land on the parallel river, the cumberland, stood the great fort of donelson. henry was a small affair compared with it. it was likely that men who had been stationed at henry had retreated there, and other formidable forces were marching to the same place. the confederate commander, johnston, after the destruction of his eastern wing at mill spring by thomas, was drawing in his forces and concentrating. the news of the loss of fort henry would cause him to hasten his operations. he was rapidly falling back from his position at bowling green in kentucky. buckner, with his division, was about to march from that place to join the garrison in donelson, and floyd, with another division, would soon be on the way to the same point. floyd had been the united states secretary of war before secession, and the union men hated him. it was said that the great partisan leader, forrest, with his cavalry, was also at the fort.

much of this news was brought in by farmers, union sympathizers, and dick and his comrades, as they sat before the fires at the close of the short winter day, understood the situation almost as well as the generals.

“donelson is ninety per cent and henry only ten per cent,” said warner. “so long as the johnnies hold donelson on the cumberland, they can build another fort anywhere they please along the tennessee, and stop our fleet. this general of ours has a good notion of the value of time and a swift blow, and, although i'm neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet, i predict that he will attack donelson at once by both land and water.”

“how can he attack it by water?” asked pennington. “the distance between them is not great, but our ships can't steam overland from the tennessee to the cumberland.”

“no, but they can steam back up the tennessee into the ohio, thence to the mouth of the cumberland, and down the cumberland to donelson. it would require only four or five days, and it will take that long for the army to invade from the land side.”

dick had his doubts about the ability of the army and the fleet to co-operate. accustomed to the energy of the southern commanders in the east he did not believe that grant would be allowed to arrange things as he chose. but several days passed and they heard nothing from the confederates, although donelson was only about twenty miles away. johnston himself, brilliant and sagacious, was not there, nor was his lieutenant, beauregard, who had won such a great reputation by his victory at the first bull run.

dick was just beginning to suspect a truth that later on was to be confirmed fully in his mind. fortune had placed the great generals of the confederacy, with the exception of albert sidney johnston, in the east, but it had been the good luck of the north to open in the west with its best men.

now he saw the energy of grant, the short man of rather insignificant appearance. boats were sent down the tennessee to meet any reinforcements that might be coming, take them back to the ohio, and thence into the cumberland. fresh supplies of ammunition and food were brought up, and it became obvious to dick that the daring commander meant to attack donelson, even should its garrison outnumber his own besieging force.

along a long line from western tennessee to eastern kentucky there was a mighty stir. johnston had perceived the energy and courage of his opponent. he had shared the deep disappointment of all the southern leaders when kentucky failed to secede, but instead furnished so many thousands of fine troops to the union army.

johnston, too, had noticed with alarm the tremendous outpouring of rugged men from the states beyond the ohio and from the far northwest. the lumbermen who came down in scores of thousands from michigan, wisconsin and minnesota, were a stalwart crowd. war, save for the bullets and shell, offered to them no hardships to which they were not used. they had often worked for days at a time up to their waists in icy water. they had endured thirty degrees below zero without a murmur, they had breasted blizzard and cyclone, they could live on anything, and they could sleep either in forest or on prairie, under the open sky.

it was such men as these, including men of his own state, and men of the tennessee mountains, whom johnston, who had all the qualities of a great commander, had to face. the forces against him were greatly superior in number. the eastern end of his line had been crushed already at mill spring, the extreme western end had suffered a severe blow at fort henry, but jefferson davis and the government at richmond expected everything of him. and he manfully strove to do everything.

there was a mighty marching of men, some news of which came through to dick and his comrades with grant. johnston with his main army, the very flower of the western south, fell back from bowling green, in kentucky, toward nashville, the capital of tennessee. but buckner, with his division, was sent from bowling green to help defend donelson against the threatened attack by grant, and he arrived there six days after the fall of henry. on the way were the troops of floyd, defeated in west virginia, but afterwards sent westward. floyd was at the head of them. forrest, the great cavalry leader, was also there with his horsemen. the fort was crowded with defenders, but the slack pillow did not yet send forward anybody to see what grant was doing, although he was only twenty miles away.

all eyes were now turned upon the west. the center of action had suddenly shifted from kentucky to tennessee. the telegraph was young yet, but it was busy. it carried many varying reports to the cities north and south. the name of this new man, grant, spelled trouble. people were beginning to talk much about him, and already some suspected that there was more in the back of his head than in those of far better known and far more pretentious northern generals in the east. none at least could dispute the fact that he was now the one whom everybody was watching.

but the southern people, few of whom knew the disparity of numbers, had the fullest confidence in the brilliant johnston. he was more than twenty years older than his antagonist, but his years had brought only experience and many triumphs, not weakness of either mind or body. at his right hand was the swarthy and confident beauregard, great with the prestige of bull run, and hardee, bragg, breckinridge and polk. and there were many brilliant colonels, too, foremost among whom was george kenton.

a tremor passed through the north when it was learned that grant intended to plunge into the winter forest, cross the cumberland, and lay siege to donelson. he was going beyond the plans of his superior, halleck, at st. louis. he was too daring, he would lose his army, away down there in the confederacy. but others remembered his successes, particularly at belmont and fort henry. they said that nothing could be won in war without risk, and they spoke of his daring and decision. they recalled, too, that he was master upon the waters, that there was no southern fleet to face his, as it sailed up the southern rivers. the telegraph was already announcing that the gunboats, which had been handled with such skill and courage, would be in the cumberland ready to co-operate with grant when he should move on donelson.

buell was moving also to form another link in the steel chain that was intended to bind the confederacy in the west. here again the mastery of the rivers was of supreme value to the north. buell embarked his army on boats on green river in the very heart of kentucky, descended that river to the ohio, passing down the latter to smithland, where the cumberland, coming up from the south, entered it, and met another convoy destined for the huge invasion.

but the first convoy had come, also by boat, from another direction, and from points far distant. there were fresh regiments of farmers and pioneers from iowa, nebraska, and minnesota. they were all eager, full of enthusiasm, anxious to be led against the enemy, and confident of triumph.

grant and his army, meanwhile, lying in the bleak forest beside the tennessee, knew little of what was being said of them in the great world without. all their thoughts were of donelson, across there on the other river, and the men asked to be led against it. inured to the hardships of border life, there was little sickness among them, despite the winter and the overflow of the flooded streams. they gathered the dead wood that littered the forest, built numerous fires, and waited as patiently as they could for the word to march.

the pennsylvanians were still camped with the kentucky regiment to which dick now belonged, and the fifth evening after the capture of henry he and his friends sat by one of the big fires.

“we'll advance either tomorrow or the next day,” said warner. “the chances are at least ninety per cent in favor of my statement. what do you say, sergeant?”

“i'd raise the ninety per cent to one hundred,” replied whitley. “we are all ready an' as you've observed, gentlemen, general grant is a man who acts.”

“the johnnies evidently expect us,” said pennington. “our scouts have seen their cavalry in the woods watching us, but only in the last day or two. it's strange that they didn't begin it earlier.”

“they say that general pillow, who commands them, isn't of much force,” said dick.

“well, it looks like it,” said warner, “but from what we hear he'll have quite an army at donelson. general grant will have his work cut out for him. the johnnies, besides having their fort, can go into battle with just about as many men as we have, unless he waits for reinforcements, which i am quite certain he isn't going to do.”

that evening several bags of mail were brought to the camp on a small steamer, which had come on three rivers, the green, the ohio, and the tennessee, and dick, to his great surprise and delight, received a letter from his mother. he had written several letters himself, but he had no way of knowing until now that any of them had reached her. only one had succeeded in getting through, and that had been written from cairo.

“my dearest son,” she wrote, “i am full of joy to know that you have reached cairo in safety and in health, though i dread the great expedition upon which you say you are going. i hear in pendleton many reports about general grant. they say that he does not spare his men. the southern sympathizers here say that he is pitiless and cares not how many thousands of his own soldiers he may sacrifice, if he only gains his aim. but of that i know not. i know it is a characteristic of our poor human nature to absolve one's own side and to accuse those on the other side.

“i was in pendleton this morning, and the reports are thick; thick from both northerners and southerners, that the armies are moving forward to a great battle. they have all marched south of us, and i do not know either whether these reports are true or false, though i fear that they are true. your uncle, colonel kenton, is with general johnston, and i hear is one of his most trusted officers. colonel kenton is a good man, and it would be one of the terrible tragedies of war if you and he were to meet on the field in this great battle, which so many hear is coming.

“i am very glad that you are now in the regiment of colonel winchester, and that you are an aide on his staff. it is best to be with one's own people. i have known colonel winchester a long time, and he has all the qualities that make a man, brave and gentle. i hope that you and he will become the best of friends.”

there was much more in the letter, but it was only the little details that concern mother and son. dick was sitting by the fire when he read it. then he read it a second time and a third time, folded it very carefully and put it in the pocket in which he had carried the dispatch from general thomas.

colonel winchester was sitting near him, and dick noticed again what a fine, trim man he was. although a little over forty, his figure was still slender, and he had an abundant head of thick, vital hair. his whole effect was that of youth. his glance met dick's and he smiled.

“a letter from home?” he said.

“yes, sir, from mother. she writes to me that she is glad i am in your command. she speaks very highly of you, sir, and my mother is a woman of uncommon penetration.”

a faint red tinted the tanned cheeks of the colonel. dick thought it was merely the reflection of the fire.

“would you care for me to read what she says about you?” asked dick.

“if you don't mind.”

dick drew out the letter again and read the paragraph.

“your mother is a very fine woman,” said colonel winchester.

“you're right, sir,” said dick with enthusiasm.

colonel winchester said no more, but rose presently and went to the tent of general grant, where a conference of officers was to be held. dick remained by the fire, where warner and pennington soon joined him.

“our scouts have exchanged some shots with the enemy,” said pennington, “and they have taken one or two prisoners, bold fellows who say they're going to lick the spots off us. they say they have a big army at donelson, and they're afraid of nothing except that grant won't come on. between ourselves, the johnny rebs are getting ready for us.”

it was dick's opinion, too, that the southern troops were making great preparations to meet them, but, like the others, he was feeling the strong hand on the reins. he did not notice here the doubt and uncertainty that had reigned at washington before the advance on bull run; in grant's army were order and precision, and with perfect confidence in his commander he rolled himself in his blankets that night and went to sleep.

the order to advance did not come the next morning, and dick, for a few moments, thought it might not come at all. the reports from donelson were of a formidable nature, and grant's own army was not provided for a winter campaign. it had few wagons for food and ammunition, and some of the regiments from the northwest, cherishing the delusion that winter in tennessee was not cold, were not provided with warm clothing and sufficient blankets.

but warner abated his confidence not one jot.

“the chance of our moving against donelson is one hundred per cent,” he said. “i passed the general today and his lips were shut tight together, which means a resolve to do at all costs what one has intended to do. i still admit that the prophets and the sons of prophets live no more, but i predict with absolute certainty that we will move in the morning.”

the vermonter's faith was justified. the army, being put in thorough trim, started at dawn upon its momentous march. wintry fogs were rising from the great river and the submerged lowlands, and the air was full of raw, penetrating chill. an abundant breakfast was served to everybody, and then with warmth and courage the lads of the west and northwest marched forward with eagerness to an undertaking which they knew would be far greater than the capture of fort henry.

dick and pennington, as staff officers, were mounted, although the horses that had been furnished to them were not much more than ponies. warner rode with colonel newcomb and major hertford, who led the slender pennsylvania detachment beside the kentucky regiment. thus the army emerged from its camp and began the march toward the cumberland. it was now about fifteen thousand strong, but it expected reinforcements, and its fleet held the command of the rivers.

as they entered the leafless forest dick saw ahead of them, perhaps a quarter of a mile away, a numerous band of horsemen wearing faded confederate gray. they were the cavalry of forrest, but they were too few to stay the union advances. there was a scattered firing of rifles, but the heavy brigades of grant moved steadily on, and pushed them out of the way. forrest could do no more than gallop back to the fort with his men and report that the enemy was coming at last.

“those fellows ride well,” said pennington, as the last of forrest's cavalrymen passed out of sight, “and if we were not in such strong force i fancy they would sting us pretty hard.”

“we'll see more of 'em,” said dick. “this is the enemy's country, and we needn't think that we're going to march as easy as you please from one victory to another.”

“maybe not,” said pennington, “but i'll be glad when we get donelson. i've been hearing so much about that place that i'm growing real curious.”

their march across the woods suffered no further interruption. sometimes they saw confederate cavalrymen at a distance in front, but they did not try to impede grant's advance. when the sun was well down in the west, the vanguard of the army came within sight of the fortress that stood by the cumberland. at that very moment the troops under floyd, just arrived, were crossing the river to join the garrison in the fortress.

dick looked upon extensive fortifications, a large fort, a redoubt upon slightly higher ground, other batteries at the water's edge, powerful batteries upon a semi-circular hill which could command the river for a long distance, and around all of these extensive works, several miles in length, including a deep creek on the north. inside the works was the little town of dover, and they were defended by fifteen thousand men, as many as grant had without.

when dick beheld this formidable position bristling with cannon, rifles and bayonets, his heart sank within him. how could one army defeat another, as numerous as itself, inside powerful intrenchments, and in its own country? nor could they prevent southern reinforcements from reaching the other side of the river and crossing to the fort under the shelter of its numerous great guns. he was yet to learn the truth, or at least the partial truth, of napoleon's famous saying, that in war an army is nothing, a man is everything. the army to which he belonged was led by a man of clear vision and undaunted resolution. the chief commander inside the fort had neither, and his men were shaken already by the news of fort henry, exaggerated in the telling.

but after the first sinking of the heart dick felt an extraordinary thrill. sensitive and imaginative, he was conscious even at the moment that he looked in the face of mighty events. the things of the minute did not always appeal to him with the greatest force. he had, instead, the foreseeing mind, and the meaning of that vast panorama of fortress, hills, river and forest did not escape him.

“well, dick, what do you think of it?” asked pennington.

“we've got our work cut out for us, and if i didn't know general grant i'd say that we're engaged in a mighty rash undertaking.”

“just what i'd say, also. and we need that fleet bad, too, dick. i'd like to see the smoke of its funnels as the boats come steaming up the cumberland.”

dick knew that the fleet was needed, not alone for encouragement and fighting help, but to supply an even greater want. grant's army was short of both food and ammunition. the afternoon had turned warm, and many of the northwestern lads, still clinging to their illusions about the climate of the lower mississippi valley, had dropped their blankets. now, with the setting sun, the raw, penetrating chill was coming back, and they shivered in every bone.

but the union army, in spite of everything, gradually spread out and enfolded the whole fortress, save on the northern side where hickman creek flowed, deep and impassable. the general's own headquarters were due west of fort donelson, and colonel winchester's kentucky regiment was stationed close by.

low campfires burned along the long line of the northern army, and dick and others who sat beside him saw many lights inside the great enclosure held by the south. an occasional report was heard, but it was only the pickets exchanging shots at long range and without hurt. dick and pennington wrapped their blankets about them and sat with their backs against a log, ready for any command from colonel winchester. now and then they were sent with orders, because there was much moving to and fro, the placing of men in position and the bringing up of cannon.

thus the night moved slowly on, raw, cold and dark. mists and fogs rose from the cumberland as they had risen from the tennessee. this, too, was a great river. dick was glad when the last of his errands was done, and he could come back to the fire, and rest his back once more against the log. the fire was only a bed of coals now, but they gave out much grateful heat.

dick could see general grant's tent from where he sat. officers of high rank were still entering it or leaving it, and he was quite sure that they were planning an attack on the morrow.

but the idea of an assault did not greatly move him now. he was too tired and sleepy to have more than a vague impression of anything. he saw the coals glowing before him, and then he did not see them. he had gone sound asleep in an instant.

the next morning was gray and troubled, with heavy clouds, rolling across the sky. the rising sun was blurred by them, and as the men ate their breakfasts some of the great guns from the fort began to fire at the presumptuous besieger. the heavy reports rolled sullenly over the desolate forests, but the northern cannon did not yet reply. the southern fire was doing no damage. it was merely a threat, a menace to those who should dare the assault.

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.

the fire now grew so hot and deadly that the union regiments were forced to give ground. it was evident that they could not carry the formidable earthworks, but on the right, where dick's regiment charged, and just above the little town of dover, they pressed in far enough to secure some hills that protected them from the fire of the enemy, and from which southern cannon and rifles could not drive them. then, at the order of grant, his troops withdrew elsewhere and the battle of the day ceased. but on the low hills above dover, which they had taken, the union regiments held their ground, and from their position the northern cannon could threaten the interior of the southern lines.

dick's regiment stood here, and beside them were the few companies of pennsylvanians so far from their native state. neither dick nor pennington was wounded. warner had a bandaged arm, but the wound was so slight that it would not incapacitate him. the officers were unhurt.

“they've driven our army back,” said pennington, “and it was not so hard for them to do it either. how can we ever defeat an army as large as our own inside powerful works?”

but dick was learning fast and he had a keen eye.

“we have not failed utterly,” he said. “don't you see that we have here a projection into the enemy's lines, and if those reinforcements come it will be thrust further and further? i tell you that general of ours is a bull dog. he will never let go.”

yet there was little but gloom in the union camp. the short winter day, somber and heavy with clouds, was drawing to a close. the field upon which the assault had taken place was within the sweep of the southern guns. some of the northern wounded had crawled away or had been carried to their own camp, but others and the numerous dead still lay upon the ground.

the cold increased. the southern winter is subject to violent changes. the clouds which had floated up without ceasing were massing heavily. now the young troops regretted bitterly the blankets that they had dropped on the way or left at fort henry. detachments were sent back to regain as many as possible, but long before they could return a sharp wind with an edge of ice sprang up, the clouds opened and great flakes poured down, driven into the eyes of the soldiers by the wind.

the situation was enough to cause the stoutest heart to weaken, but the unflinching grant held on. the confederate army within the works was sheltered at least in part, but his own, outside, and with the desolate forest rimming it around, lay exposed fully to the storm. dick, at intervals, saw the short, thickset figure of the commander passing among the men, and giving them orders or encouragement. once he saw his face clearly. the lips were pressed tightly together, and the whole countenance expressed the grimmest determination. dick was confirmed anew in his belief that the chief would never turn back.

the spectacle, nevertheless, was appalling. the snow drove harder and harder. it was not merely a passing shower of flakes. it was a storm. the snow soon lay upon the ground an inch deep, then three inches, then four and still it gained. through the darkness and the storm the southern cannon crashed at intervals, sending shells at random into the union camp or over it. there was full need then for the indomitable spirit of grant and those around him to encourage anew the thousands of boys who had so lately left the farms or the lumber yards.

dick and his comrades, careless of the risk, searched over the battlefield for the wounded who were yet there. they carried lanterns, but the darkness was so great and the snow drove so hard and lay so deep that they knew many would never be found.

back beyond the range of the fort's cannon men were building fires with what wood they could secure from the forest. all the tents they had were set up, and the men tried to cook food and make coffee, in order that some degree of warmth and cheer might be provided for the army beset so sorely.

the snow, after a while, slackening somewhat, was succeeded by cold much greater than ever. the shivering men bent over the fires and lamented anew the discarded blankets. dick did not sleep an instant that terrible night. he could not. he, pennington, and warner, relieved from staff service, worked all through the cold and darkness, helping the wounded and seeking wood for the fires. and with them always was the wise sergeant whitley, to whom, although inferior in rank, they turned often and willingly for guidance and advice.

“it's an awful situation,” said pennington; “i knew that war would furnish horrors, but i didn't expect anything like this.”

“but general grant will never retreat,” said dick. “i feel it in every bone of me. i've seen his face tonight.”

“no, he won't,” said the experienced sergeant, “because he's making every preparation to stay. an' remember, mr. pennington, that while this is pretty bad, worse can happen. remember, too, that while we can stand this, we can also stand whatever worse may come. it's goin' to be a fight to a finish.”

far in the night the occasional guns from the southern fortress ceased. the snow was falling no longer, but it lay very deep on the ground, and the cold was at its height. along a line of miles the fires burned and the men crowded about them. but dick, who had been working on the snowy plain that was the battlefield, and who had heard many moans there, now heard none. all who lay in that space were sleeping the common sleep of death, their bodies frozen stiff and hard under the snow.

dick, sitting by one of the fires, saw the cold dawn come, and in those chill hours of nervous exhaustion he lost hope for a moment or two. how could anybody, no matter how resolute, maintain a siege without ammunition and without food. but he spoke cheerfully to pennington and warner, who had slept a little and who were just awakening.

the pale and wintry sun showed the defiant stars and bars floating over donelson, and dick from his hill could see men moving inside the earthworks. certainly the southern flags had a right to wave defiance at the besieging army, which was now slowly and painfully rising from the snow, and lighting the fires anew.

“well, what's the program today, dick?” asked pennington.

“i don't know, but it's quite certain that we won't attempt another assault. it's hopeless.”

“that's true,” said warner, who was standing by, “but we—hark, what was that?”

the boom of a cannon echoed over the fort and forest, and then another and another. to the northward they saw thin black spires of smoke under the horizon.

“it's the fleet! it's the fleet!” cried warner joyously, “coming up the cumberland to our help! oh, you men of donelson, we're around you now, and you'll never shake us off!”

again came the crash of great guns from the fleet, and the crash of the southern water batteries replying.