He would make the trial at night. It was a long wait, but he dared not
risk it by day, and, going back into one of the ravines, he sought a
secluded and sheltered place. Threshing the bushes to drive away
possible snakes, he crawled into a clump and lay there. Resolved to be
patient in spite of everything, he did not stir, but listened to the far
throbbing of the cannon which poured an incessant storm of missiles upon
unhappy Vicksburg.
The warmth and the heavy air in the ravine were relaxing. His brain grew
so dull and heavy that he fell asleep, and when he awoke the twilight was
coming. And yet he had lost nothing. He had gained rather. The time
had passed. His body had been strengthened and his nerves steadied while
he slept.
The distant booming of the guns still came. He had expected it. That
was Grant. He had wrapped the coil of steel around Vicksburg and he
would never relax. Dick felt that there was no hope for the town,
unless Johnston outside could gather a powerful army and fight Grant on
even terms. But he considered it impossible, and there, too, was the
great artery of the river along which flowed men and supplies of every
kind for the Union.
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