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The Rock of Chickamauga - A Story of the Western Crisis by Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander) Altsheler
page 299 of 323 (92%)

"Let 'em come!" exclaimed Warner, with heightening color. "Who's afraid?"

The dawn was spreading. The heavy mists that hung over the Chickamauga
floated away. All the east was silver, and the darkness rolled back like
a blanket. The west became silver in its turn, and the sun burned red
fire in the east. The wind still blew fresh and cool off the mountains.
The faint sound of trumpets came from far points on the Southern line.
The crackling fire of the skirmishers increased.

"It's a wait for us," said Colonel Winchester, standing amid his youthful
staff. "I can see them advancing in great columns against our right and
center. Now their artillery opens!"

Dick put up his glasses and he, too, saw the mighty Southern army
advancing. Their guns were already clearing the way for the advance,
and the valleys echoed with the great concussion. Longstreet and Hill,
anxious to show what the veterans of the East could do, were pouring them
forward alive with all the fire and courage that had distinguished them
in the Army of Northern Virginia.

The battle swelled fast. It seemed to the waiting veterans of Thomas
that it had burst forth suddenly like a volcano. They saw the vast
clouds of smoke gather again off there where their comrades stood, and,
knowing the immense weight about to be hurled upon them, they feared for
those men who had fought so often by their side.

Yet Thomas had been confident that the first attack would be made upon
his own part of the line, that Bragg with an overwhelming force would
seek to roll up his left. Nor had he reckoned wrong. The lingering of
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