It held the battlefield, and now that the twilight was coming the men began to build their fires, which blazed through the night within sight of those of the enemy.

The sentinels of the two armies were within speaking distance of one another, and often in the dark, as happened after many another battle in this war, Yank and Reb passed a friendly word or two.

They met, too, on the field, where they carried away their dead and wounded, but on such errands there was always peace.
Those hours of the night were precious, but Fremont did not use them.
Defeated, he held back, magnifying the numbers of his enemy, fearing that Jackson was in front of him with his whole army, and once more out of touch with his ally, Shields.
But Stonewall Jackson was all activity.

The great war-like intellect was working with the utmost precision and speed.

Having beaten back Fremont, he was making ready for Shields.