And still the combat raged without the Union commander, Grant, although he was coming now as fast as he could with the increasing roar of conflict to draw him on.

The battle was lost to the North.

But it might be won back again by a general who would not quit.

Only the bulldog in Grant, the tenacious death grip, could save him now.
Dick and his friends suddenly became conscious that both on their right and left the thunder of battle was moving back upon the Union camp.
They realized now that they were only the segment of a circle extending forward practically within the Union lines, and that the combat was going against them.

The word was given to retreat, lest they be surrounded, and they fell back slowly disputing with desperation every foot of ground that they gave up.