BATTLE'S EVE  
Harry found little change in the Southern army, except that more troops had come up from Richmond. It still rested upon Bull Run. The country here was old, having been cropped for many generations, the soil mostly clay and cut in deep ruts. There were many ravines and water courses, and hillocks were numerous. Colonel Talbot had told Harry a month before that it was not a bad place for a battle ground, and he remembered it now as he came back to it. He had not taken the time to return to the charcoal burner's hut for his uniform, and, when he approached his own lines he still wore the Sunday best of Perkins.
 
The sentinel who hailed him first doubted his claim that he was a member of the Invincibles, but he insisted so urgently, and called all its officers by name so readily that he was passed on. He dismounted, gave his horse to an orderly, and walked toward a clump of trees where he saw Colonel Talbot writing at a small table in the open. The colonel, engrossed in his work, did not look up, as the boy's footsteps made little sound on the turf. When Harry stood before him he saluted and said:
 
"I have returned to make my report, Colonel Talbot."
 
The colonel looked up, uttered a cry of pleasure and seized Harry by both hands.
 
"Thank God, you've come back, my boy!" he said. "I hesitated to send your father's son on such an errand, but I thought that you would succeed. You have seen the enemy's forces?"
 
"I've been in Washington, itself," said Harry, some pride showing in his voice.
 
"Then we'll go at once to General Beauregard. He is in his tent now, conferring with some of his chief officers."
 
A great marquee stood in the shade of a grove, only two or three hundred yards away. Its sides were open, as the heat was great, and Harry saw the commander-in-chief within, talking earnestly with men in the uniform of generals. Longstreet, Early, Hill and others were there. Harry was somewhat abashed, but he had the moral support of Colonel Talbot, and, after the first few moments of embarrassment, he told his story in a direct and incisive manner. The officers listened with attention.
 
"It confirms the other reports," said Beauregard.
 
"It goes further," said Longstreet. "Our young friend here is obviously a lad of intelligence and discernment and what he saw in Washington shows that the North is resolved to crush us. The battle that we are going to fight will not be the last battle by any means."
 
"Each side is too sanguine," said Hill.
 
"You have done well, Lieutenant Kenton," said Beauregard, "and now you can rejoin your regiment. You are to receive a promotion of one grade."
 
Harry was glad to leave the marquee and hurry toward the camp of the Invincibles. The first of his friends whom he saw was Happy Tom Langdon, bathing his face in a little stream that flowed into Young's Branch. He walked up and smote him joyously on the back. Langdon sprang to his feet in anger and exclaimed:
 
"Hey, you fellow, what do you mean by that?"
 
He saw before him a tall, gawky youth in ill-fitting clothes, his face a mask of dust. But this same dusty youth grinned and replied:
 
"I hit you once, and if you don't speak to me more politely I'll hit you twice."
 
Langdon stared. Then recognition came.
 
"Harry Kenton, by all that's wonderful!" he exclaimed. "And so you've come back! I was afraid you never would! What have you been doing, Harry?"
 
"I've been pretty busy. I drove in the right wing of the Yankee army, put to flight a couple of brigades in their center, then I went on to Washington and had a talk with Lincoln. I told him the North would have me to reckon with if he kept on with this war, but he said he believed he'd go ahead anyhow. I even mentioned your name to him, but the menace did no good."
 
Langdon called to St. Clair and soon Harry was surrounded by friends who gave him the warmest of greetings and who insisted upon the tale of his adventures, a part of which he was free to tell. Then a new uniform was brought to him, and, after a long and refreshing bath in a deep pool of the stream, he put it on. He felt now as if he had been entirely made over, and, as he strolled back to camp, a tall, thin man, black of hair and pallid of face, hailed him.
 
Harry took two glances before he recognized Arthur Travers in the Southern uniform. Then he grasped his hand eagerly and asked him when he had come.
 
"Only two days ago," replied Travers. "I'm in another regiment farther along Bull Run. I merely came over here to tell you that your father was well when I last heard from him. He is with the Western forces that are to be under Albert Sidney Johnston."
 
Harry did not care greatly for Travers, but it was pleasant to see anybody from the old home, and they talked some time. But Harry did not see him again soon, as the bonds of discipline were now tightened. Regiments were kept in ranks and the men were not permitted to wander from their places. Northern bands were continually in their front, and it was reported daily that the great army at Washington was about to move.
 
Yet the days passed, and no important event occurred. July advanced. The heat became more intense. The fields were bare, the vegetation trodden out by armies, and, when the wind rose, clouds of dust beat upon them. It was lucky for them that the country was cut by so many streams.
 
The Invincibles were moved about several times, but they stopped at last at a little plateau where a branch railroad joined the main stem, giving to the place the name Manassas Junction. Bull Run was near, flowing between high banks, but with crossings at two fords and two bridges. Beauregard had thrown up earthworks at the station, and strong batteries were hidden in the foliage at the fords. The Southern army, weary of waiting, was eager for battle. The Northern people, also weary of waiting, demanded that their own troops advance.
 
As Harry sat with his friends one hot night the word was passed that the Northern army was coming at last. The Southern scouts had reported that McDowell's whole force was already on the march and was drawing near. It would attempt the passage of Bull Run. A murmur ran through the camp of the Invincibles, but there was little talk. They had already tasted of battle at the fort in the valley, and it was not a thing to be taken lightly.
 
Harry resolved that he would sleep if he could, but there was no rest for the Invincibles just then. An order came from Beauregard, and, with Colonel Talbot at their head, they took up their arms, marching to one of the fords of Bull Run, where they lay down among trees near a battery. They were forbidden to talk, but they whispered, nevertheless. The ford before them was Blackburn's, and the heavy attack of the Northern army would be made there in the morning.
 
Harry and the Invincibles were at the very edge of the river. They had been under heavy fire before, but, nevertheless, everything they now saw or heard played upon their nerves. The murmur of the little river was multiplied thrice. Every time a bayonet or a saber rattled it smote with sharpness upon the ear. The neigh of a horse became a fierce, lingering note, and out of the darkness that covered the rolling country in front of them came many sounds, but few of which were real.
 
For a long time there was movement on their own side of the stream. Troops were continually coming up in the night and taking position. It required no acute mind to perceive that the Southern commander expected the main attack to be made here, and was massing his troops in force to receive it. Except at the ford itself the banks of the river were high, but those on the Northern side were higher. A skirt of forest lined the Southern bank, and Harry saw Longstreet and his men march into it, and lie there on their arms. Nearer to him among the trees were the powerful batteries of artillery. Beauregard himself had come and he now had with him seven brigades eager for the attack.
 
The night was hot and windless, save at distant intervals, when a slight breeze blew from the North. Then it brought dust with it, and Harry believed that it came from the dry soil, trod to powder by the marching feet of a great army, and the wheels of many cannon.
 
Comparative silence came after a while on his own side of the river. There was no sharp sound, only a low and almost continuous murmur made by the whispering, and restless movements which so many thousands of men could not avoid. But the sound was so steady that they heard above it the croak of frogs at the edge of the stream, and then another sound which Harry at first did not understand.
 
"What is it?" he whispered to St. Clair, who lay a little higher than he.
 
"It's a lot of our men crossing the ford. Raise up and you can see them walking in the water. I take it that the general is going to put a force in the bushes and trees on the other bank to sting the Northern army good and hard before it pushes home the main attack."
 
Standing up Harry saw men wading Bull Run in a long file, every one carrying a rifle on his shoulder. In the hot dim night they looked like lines of Indians advancing through the water to choose an ambush. They were crossing for half an hour, and then they melted away. He could not see one of the figures again, nor did any sound come from them, but he knew that the riflemen lay there in the bushes, and that many a man would fall before they waded Bull Run again.
 
"Do you think the attack is really coming this time?" whispered Langdon.
 
"I feel sure of it," replied Harry. "All the scouts have said so and you may laugh at me, Tom, but I tell you that when the wind blows our way I feel the dust raised by thirty thousand men marching toward us."
 
"I'm not laughing at you, Harry. Sometimes that instinct of yours tells when things are coming long before you can see or hear 'em. But while I'm no such wonder myself I can hear those bullfrogs croaking down there at the edge of the water. Think of their cheek, calmly singing their night songs between two armies of twenty or thirty thousand men each, who are going to fight tomorrow."
 
"But it's not their fight," said St. Clair, "and maybe they are croaking for a lot of us."
 
"Shut up, you bird of ill omen, you raven, you," said Happy Tom. "Everything is going to happen for the best, we are going to win the victory, and we three are going to come out of the battle all right."
 
St. Clair did not answer him. His was a serious nature and he foresaw a great struggle which would waver long in doubt. Harry had lain down on his blanket and was seeking sleep again.
 
"Stop talking," he said to the other two. "We've got to go to sleep if it's only for the sake of our nerves. We must be fresh and steady when we go into the battle in the morning."
 
"I suppose you are right," said Happy Tom, "but I find this overtaking slumber a long chase. Maybe you can form a habit of sleeping well before big battles, but I haven't had the chance to do so yet."
 
Harry did fall asleep after a while, but he awoke before dawn to find that there was already bustle and movement in the army about him. Fires were lighted further back, and an early but plentiful breakfast was cooked. All were up and ready when the sun rose over the Virginia fields.
 
"Another hot day," said Happy Tom. "See, the sun is as red as fire! And look how it burns on the water there."
 
"Yes, hot it will be," Harry said to himself. They had eaten their breakfast and lay once more among the trees. Harry searched with his eyes the bushes and thickets on the other side for their riflemen, but most of them were still invisible in the day. Then the Southern brigades were ordered to lie down, but after they lay there............