The black moved farther upon the silver shield. All the soldiers rested on their axes and looked upon it. “When the Confederacy ends I want to end, too,—right then and thar and hand in hand! But the Confederacy ain’t going to end. I reckon we’ve given it enough blood to keep it going!” But the first speaker remained a pessimist. “What we give our blood to is the earth and the sea. We don’t give no blood to the Confederacy. The Confederacy ain’t gaining blood; she’s losing blood—drop by drop out of every vein. She lost a deal at Chickamauga and she’s going to lose a deal—” “The black is three quarters over. God! ain’t it eerie?” “The man that says the Confederacy is going to end is a damned coward and traitor! That thing up there ain’t nothing but a passing shadow—” Cleburne came by. “Too dark to dig, boys? Never mind! There’ll be light enough by and by.” The black veil drew across, then slowly passed. Cold and bright the moon looked down. Cleburne’s men built their breastwork, then, straightening themselves, wiped with the back of their hands the sweat from their brows. Their work had made them warm, but now was felt the mortal chill of the hour before dawn. The woods began to sigh. They made a mysterious, trembling sound beneath the concave of the sky. The sky paled; on the east above the leafless trees came a wash of purple, desolate and withdrawn. The November day broke slowly. There was a mist. It rose from the streams, it hung upon bush and tree, it hid enemy from enemy, it almost hid friend from friend. With the light came skirmishing, and at sunrise the batteries opened from the ridge the blue had seized. At ten o’clock there arrived the Federal advance upon this front. It came through the light mist, in two long lines of battle. Its bands were playing. Davis’s division, three divisions of Sherman’s, Eleventh Corps of the Army of the Potomac, Sherman commanding all. There was a hill near the tunnel, and Cleburne held this and the woodland rolling from the right. He had guns in position above the tunnel gaping like a black mouth in the hillside, gaping at the hurrahing rush of Sherman’s men.