"
"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.
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