He could not see one of the figures again, nor did any sound come from them, but he knew that the riflemen lay there in the bushes, and that many a man would fall before they waded Bull Run again.
"Do you think the attack is really coming this time ?" whispered Langdon.
"I feel sure of it," replied Harry.

"All the scouts have said so and you may laugh at me, Tom, but I tell you that when the wind blows our way I feel the dust raised by thirty thousand men marching toward us." "I'm not laughing at you, Harry.

Sometimes that instinct of yours tells when things are coming long before you can see or hear 'em.

But while I'm no such wonder myself I can hear those bullfrogs croaking down there at the edge of the water.

Think of their cheek, calmly singing their night songs between two armies of twenty or thirty thousand men each, who are going to fight tomorrow." "But it's not their fight," said St.Clair, "and maybe they are croaking for a lot of us." "Shut up, you bird of ill omen, you raven, you," said Happy Tom.
"Everything is going to happen for the best, we are going to win the victory, and we three are going to come out of the battle all right." St.Clair did not answer him.