He strove with glasses even for a glimpse of the winter sun which he knew would come so late, but as yet the fog showed nothing save a faint luminous tinge low down in the east.

An orderly brought food to them, and while they ate they saw the luminous tinge broaden and deepen.
"The sun's rising behind that fog," said Dalton, "but here comes a little wind that will drive away the fog or thin it out so we can see." "Yes, I feel it," said Harry, "and you can see the dull, somber red of the sun trying to break through.

Look, George, unless I'm mistaken the fog's moving down the river!" "So it is, there's the flash of the stream, the color of steel, and by all the stars, there's their bridge two-thirds of the way across!" Heavier puffs of wind came and the fog billowed off down the river.
The whole gigantic theater of action sprang at once into the light.
There were the two great armies clustered on opposing ridges, there was the deserted town, there was the deep river, the color of lead, flowing between the foes, two-thirds of its width already spanned by the Union bridge, the bridge itself covered with workmen, and boats swarming by its side.
Harry felt a thrill and a shudder which were almost simultaneous.
Then came a deep muffled roar from the two armies on the ridges looking at each other.

But as the roar died it was succeeded by the rapid, stinging fire of rifles.

The Mississippians in their pits and cellars near the bank of the river were sending a hail of bullets upon the bridge builders.
The rest of the Southern army stood by and watched.