"Forward!" came a clear voice from their rear.
Came the heavy tramp, tramp of marching feet, as the First Infantry moved forward. Steadily they marched ahead, silently and with an air of determination. They made an imposing appearance in the dim light of early morning.
"A gallant body of men," muttered Hal. "They'll give a good account of themselves."
Came a word of command from Colonel Anderson—the boys recognized his voice—and more troops moved forward. As far as the eye could see dense masses of men were marching rapidly toward the front. It became apparent that this was to be no mere skirmish—no mere feeling-out process. It was to be a battle, and as both lads realized, it might well last for days.
"We may as well go forward a bit," said Hal.
Accordingly the three started out. Half an hour later they were suddenly surrounded by a body of infantry, and, in some unaccountable manner, were separated from Uncle John. In vain they looked, called and whistled for him. He had disappeared.
"Well, I guess he will be able to find the way back," said Chester. "We'd better see if we can find him."
They retraced their steps. For an hour and more they waited, but Uncle John failed to put in an appearance. And all the time, from ahead, came the dull roar of battle.
"Well, what shall we do?" asked Chester at length.
Hal shrugged his shoulders.