He staggered in the
smoke against some one and saw that it was Warner.
"Have we lost?" he cried. "Have we lost after doing so much?"
The lips of the Vermonter parted in a kind of savage grin.
"I won't say we've lost," he shouted in reply, "but I can't see anything
we've won."
Then he lost Warner in the smoke and the regiment retreated yet further.
It was impossible to preserve cohesion or keep a line formed. The
Southerners never ceased to press upon them with overwhelming weight.
Pillow, now decisive in action, continually accumulated new forces upon
the Northern right. Every position that McClernand had held at the
opening of the battle was now taken, and the Confederate general was
planning to surround and destroy the whole Union army. Already he
was sending messengers to the telegraph with news for Johnston of his
complete victory.
But the last straw had not yet been laid upon the camel's back.
McClernand was beaten, but the hardy men of Kentucky, East Tennessee and
the northwest still offered desperate resistance. Conspicuous among the
defenders was the regiment of young pioneers from Nebraska, hunters,
Indian fighters, boys of twenty or less, who had suffered already every
form of hardship. They stood undaunted amid the showers of bullets and
shells and cried to the others to stand with them.
Yet the condition of the Union army steadily grew worse. Dick himself,
in all the smoke and shouting and confusion, could see it.
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