Grant's army was short of both food and ammunition.

The afternoon had turned warm, and many of the northwestern lads, still clinging to their illusions about the climate of the lower Mississippi Valley, had dropped their blankets.
Now, with the setting sun, the raw, penetrating chill was coming back, and they shivered in every bone.
But the Union army, in spite of everything, gradually spread out and enfolded the whole fortress, save on the northern side where Hickman Creek flowed, deep and impassable.

The general's own headquarters were due west of Fort Donelson, and Colonel Winchester's Kentucky regiment was stationed close by.
Low campfires burned along the long line of the Northern army, and Dick and others who sat beside him saw many lights inside the great enclosure held by the South.

An occasional report was heard, but it was only the pickets exchanging shots at long range and without hurt.

Dick and Pennington wrapped their blankets about them and sat with their backs against a log, ready for any command from Colonel Winchester.