The boys in blue were bound to deceive the enemy if the thing could be done, and at night immense camp-fires were lighted for miles along the river front, always in front and to the north of Chattanooga. Foot-soldiers and cavalry showed themselves first at one place and then another, and at night bugle-calls sounded out in spots where no cavalry had yet been or was likely to be. On the river bank, trees were cut down and sawed up, the ends being left to float down the stream, to give the enemy the impression that extensive bridge-building was on the way. One detachment climbed up a nearby ridge, and with its battery threw shells toward the city,—something that made the inhabitants imagine that the final contest was now at hand.
And while all this was going on, the main portion of the Union forces had crossed the Cumberland Mountains thirty odd miles below, and were gathering on the bank of the Tennessee River. A train had come in, bringing on it a pontoon-bridge which was to be thrown across the stream at Caperton. The train was stopped in the woods, and the boats and planking were hurried forward in secret.
While the sun was still rising on the 29th of August, fifty boats, with a capacity of twenty-five hundred men, were taken across the open fields of Caperton, launched, and rowed to the south shore of the Tennessee. The picket guard of the enemy was driven away, and soon the pontoon-bridge was in position. Immediately upon the completion of the work, Davis's division crossed and went into camp at the base of Raccoon Mountain. In three days his division, with Johnston's, had marched across the range, and forty-eight hours later these troops established themselves at Winston's Pass over Lookout Mountain, within forty-two miles of Bragg's stronghold. The same day Stanley's cavalry, under General Mitchell, crossed Lookout, and on the week following descended into Broomtown Valley.
The march of the army was now well under way, and Thomas's corps and the other troops came along at various points, covering the ground as rapidly as the nature of the territory permitted. It was felt that General Bragg must know by this time what was going on, and strict watch was kept all along the line to prevent a surprise.
The laying of the pontoon-bridge was to Major Deck Lyon and his brother, Captain Artie, a good deal of a novelty, and the Riverlawns assisted in carrying more than one boat down to the rushing waters of the Tennessee. Once the boats were strung from shore to shore, it was no easy matter to link them together, or to get the planking down even after they were linked, but all hands worked bravely, despite the occasional shots from the Confederate pickets fleeing from the neighborhood.
The Riverlawns crossed the bridge in safety, all but two men, a private of the sixth company, who quickly swam his horse ashore, and Sandy Lyon. Sandy had a spirited horse, and was advised to lead him over; but the lieutenant insisted on riding, and when the middle of the bridge was reached, his horse shied, and Sandy slid overboard like a flash. He went down, to come up at a point fifty feet down the turbulent stream.
"Help! help!" he yelled, as soon as he could eject the water from his mouth. "Some of you fellows haul me out!"
"Can't you swim?" asked several, unwilling to endure a wetting if it was not necessary.
"I can't swim much—ain't swum in five years," came in a gasp, "and this clothing weighs a ton!"
Artie Lyon had seen Sandy go overboard, and now he drew his uncle's attention to the scene. Titus was very much excited on the instant. "Save Sandy—save my boy!" he cried, and he tried to leap overboard, but Artie hauled him back.