Chapter XIII. The River of Death - Page 2

rivers flowed down to the Tennessee.

One of these streams was the Chickamauga, which in the language of the Cherokee Indians who had once owned this region means "the river of death." Why they called it so no one knew, but the name was soon to have a terrible fitness. Chattanooga itself meant in the Cherokee tongue "the hawk's nest," and anybody could see the aptness of the term.

While Lookout Mountain was the loftiest summit, some of the other ridges rose almost as high, through the gaps of which the Northern army must pass if it continued the pursuit of Bragg.

September had now come and the winds were growing crisper in the high country. The feel of autumn was in the air, and the coolness made the marching brisker. The division to which Dick belonged was advancing slowly. He often saw Thomas, and his admiration for the grave, silent man grew. It was said that Thomas was slow, but that he never made mistakes. Now the rumor was spreading that he had warned Rosecrans to be cautious, that Bragg had a powerful army and when he reached favorable positions, would certainly turn and fight.

Not many were impressed by these reports. They merely said it was "Pap" Thomas' way of looking at the dark side of things first. Hadn't they driven Bragg through the Cumberland Mountains and out of Chattanooga, and now they would soon be on his heels deep down in Georgia. But Dick, noticing Colonel Winchester's serious face, surmised that he at least shared the opinion of his chief. And when the lad looked up at the great coils and ridges he felt that, in truth, they might go too far. If the Northern men were veterans, so were the Southern, and neither had taken much change of the other at Shiloh, Perryville and Stone River.

The Winchester regiment was thrown forward as the vanguard of the infantry, and the face of the colonel grew more serious than ever, when the best scouts rode in with reports that the Southern retreat was now very slow. There was news, too, that Slade had a new band much larger than before, and they formed a rear guard of skirmishers which made every moment of a Northern scout's life a moment of danger. The Winchester regiment itself was often fired upon from ambush, and there were vacant places in the ranks.

Dick did not know whether it was his own intuition or the influence that flowed from the opinions of Thomas and Winchester, but much of his high exultation was abated. He regarded the lofty ridges and the deep gaps with apprehension. It was a difficult country and the Southern leaders must know that the Northern army was extended over a long line, with Thomas holding the left.

His premonitions had ample cause. Bragg as he fell back slowly had gathered new forces. Rosecrans did not yet know it, but the army before him was the most powerful that the South ever assembled in the West. Polk and Cleburne and Breckinridge and Forrest and