raced through the thickets or fell into the marsh.

All the time Dick heard the shells and bullets shrieking and whining over
his head. But, regaining his courage and presence of mind, he slowly
pulled himself out of the marsh, taking shelter behind a huge cypress
that grew at its very edge. As he dashed the mud out of his eyes he
heard a voice saying:

"Don't push! There's room enough here for the three of us. In fact,
there's room enough behind the big trees for all the officers."

It was Warner who was speaking with such grim irony, and Pennington by
his side was hugging the tree. Shells and shot shrieked over their heads
and countless bullets hummed about them. The soldiers also had taken
shelter behind the trees, and Warner's jest about the officers was a jest
only. Nevertheless the Southern fire was great in volume and accuracy.
Bowen was an able commander with excellent men, and from his position
that covered the meeting of the roads he swept both Union columns with a
continuous hail of death.

"We must get out of this somehow," said Dick. "If we're held here in
these swamps and thickets any longer the Johnnies can shoot us down at
their leisure."

"But we won't be held!" exclaimed Pennington. "Look! One of our
brigades is through, and it's charging the enemy on the right!"

It was Hovey who had forced his way through a thicket, supposed to be
impenetrable, and who now, with a full brigade behind him, was rushing
upon Bowen's flank. Then, while the Southern defense was diverted to