He was scarcely conscious that the thick and powerful sergeant had moved up by his side and had put a helping hand under his arm.
"Here we are at the ford!" cried Whitley.

"Into it, my lad! Ah, how good the water feels!" Dick, despite those warning guns behind him, would have remained a while in Bull Run, luxuriating in the stream, but the crowd of his comrades was pressing hard upon him, and he only had time to thrust his face into the water and to pour it over his neck, arms, and shoulders.

But he was refreshed greatly.

Some of the heat went out of his body, and his eyes and head ached less.
The retreat continued across the rolling hills.

Dick saw everywhere arms and supplies thrown away by the fringe of a beaten army, the men in the rear who saw and who spread the reports of panic and terror.