An Aid dashed across the field to the brigade commander.
"The line is now formed," he said. "Retire your command to it."
That night, after the battle had ceased, Si and Shorty were seated on a rail by the Nashville pike munching rations which they had luckily found in a thrown-away haversack. They were allowed no fires, they had no blankets nor overcoats, and it was bitter cold.
"Shorty, you said last night you was sure that they couldn't git up nothin' to-day that'd be as bad as what we had yesterday," said Si. "I bel'eve that I'd rather guard wagon-trains and fight cavalry than have such another day as this."
"I think the lake of brimstone'd be a pleasant change from this," snorted Shorty.
CHAPTER VII. AFTER THE FIRST DAY
THE DISCOMFORTS OF THAT LAST NIGHT OF 1862.
IT WAS so desperately cold and comfortless that Si and Shorty felt that they must do something or perish.
There were some fragments of cracker-boxes near. With these they dug a hole several inches deep, put some splinters in, and started a stealthy blaze. They were careful to sit on the side toward the rebels, the better to hide from them any sight of it. It was a very small fire, but there was more relief in it than Si had before gotten from those a thousand times larger. It kept his unshod foot from freezing, and brought the blood back to his numb hands.