I've seen General Thomas twice this
morning, and I know that this corps will never be routed. He's made up
his mind to hold on or die. He's the Rock of Chickamauga."
It was a name that Dick was to hear often afterward, and he repeated
under his breath: "The Rock of Chickamauga! The Rock of Chickamauga!"
It rolled resoundingly off the tongue, and he liked it.
Then came a beat of hoofs and a cavalry regiment galloped into open
ground beside them. It was Colonel Hertford's, numbering about three
hundred men, some of whom were wounded. Their leader was excited, and,
springing to the ground, he ran to Colonel Winchester. The two talked
in quick, short sentences.
"Colonel," exclaimed Hertford, "we've just had a sharp brush with that
demon, Forrest, and we've left some good men back there. But I've come
both to help and to warn you. We're being driven back everywhere else,
and now they're gathering an immense mass of troops for a gigantic attack
on Thomas!"
Dick heard and his breath came fast. Colonel Hertford would bring no
false news, and he could see with his own eyes that the storm was curving
toward them.
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