"
The next day the fight was renewed, and with the same result.
The old battery in its position was unconquerable. Only one fear
now faced them; their ammunition was getting as low as their rations;
another such day or half-day would exhaust it. A sergeant was sent back
down the mountain to try to get more, or, if not, to get tidings.
The next day it was supposed the fight would be renewed; and the men waited,
alert, eager, vigilant, their spirits high, their appetite for victory
whetted by success. The men were at their breakfast, or what went
for breakfast, scanty at all times, now doubly so, hardly deserving
the title of a meal, so poor and small were the portions of cornmeal,
cooked in their frying-pans, which went for their rations, when the sound
of artillery below broke on the quiet air. They were on their feet
in an instant and at the guns, crowding upon the breastwork
to look or to listen; for the road, as far as could be seen down the mountain,
was empty except for their own picket, and lay as quiet as if sleeping
in the balmy air. And yet volley after volley of artillery came rolling
up the mountain. What could it mean? That the rest of their force
had come up and was engaged with that at the foot of the mountain?
The Colonel decided to be ready to go and help them; to fall on the enemy
in the rear; perhaps they might capture the entire force.
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