Dick knew now that the dawn was at hand.
The loud but mellow notes of a trumpet came from a distant point toward Donelson, and then others to right and left joined and sang the same mellow song.

But it lasted only for a minute.

Then it was lost in the rapid crackle of rifles, which spread like a running fire along a front of miles.

The sun in the east swung clear of the earth, its beams shooting a way through fogs and vapors.

The dawn had come and the attack had come with it.
The Southerners, ready at last, were rushing from their fort and works, and, with all the valor and fire that distinguished them upon countless occasions, they were hurling themselves upon their enemy.