"Do we run again?" exclaimed Pennington, a tear ploughing its way through
the smoky grime on his cheek.
"No, we don't run," replied Warner calmly, "We're forced back, and the
rebels will claim a victory but we haven't fought for nothing. Lee and
Jackson will never get up in time to attack our army before it's over the
river."
The regiment began its slow retreat. It had not suffered much, owing to
the shelter of the forest, and, full of courage and resolution, it was a
formidable support on the flank of the slowly retreating cavalry.
The evening was now at hand. The sun was setting once more over the
Virginia hills destined to be scarred so deeply by battle, but attack
and defense went on. As night came the thudding of cannon added to the
tumult, and then the three boys saw the Rappahannock, a deep and wide
stream flowing between high banks crested with timber. Ahead of them
Pope's army was crossing on the bridge and in boats, and masses of
infantry supported by heavy batteries had turned to protect the crossing.
The Southern vanguard could not assail such a powerful force, and before
the night was over the whole Union army passed to the Northern side of
the Rappahannock.
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