"We hold the road and we'll hold it for a while," exclaimed Colonel
Winchester, exultation showing in his tone.
"Why can't we hold it all the time?" Dick could not refrain from asking.
"Because we are retreating and the Southerners are continually coming up,
while our army wishes to go away."
Dick glanced through the trees and saw that great clouds of dust still
were rolling toward the northwest. It must be almost at the Rappahannock
now, and he began to appreciate what this desperate combat in the woods
meant. They were holding back the Southern army, while their men could
cross the river and reform behind it.
The battle swayed back and forth, and it was most desperate between the
cavalry. The bugles again and again called the gray horsemen to the
charge, and although the blue infantry supported their own horsemen with
a heavy rifle fire, and held the wood undaunted, the Northern rear guard
was forced to give way at last before the pressure of numbers and attacks
that would not cease.
Their own bugles sounded the retreat and they began to retire slowly.
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