"We must decide," the Commander began, "what to do in case Gordon can't break through. How many guns in your command?"
"More than forty, sir. We've just captured a section of Federal artillery in perfect order."
"Forty guns! And Grant is circling us with five hundred—"
"We have fought big odds before. We have ammunition. The artillery has done little on this retreat. They're eager for a fight, if you wish to give battle."
"I can rally but eight thousand men for a final charge. They are tired and hungry. What have we got to do?"
"This means but one thing, then—"
"Well, sir?"
"Order the army to scatter—each man for himself. They can slip through the brush to-night like quail, and reach Johnston's army."
"You think this best?"
"It's the only thing to do, sir. Surrender—never. Scatter. And when Grant closes in to-morrow his hands will be empty. He'll find a few broken guns and wagons. Our men will be safe beyond his lines and ready to fight again."