All the pickets were drawn in and they retreated in haste across the stream, the water foaming up in spurts about them beneath the pursuing bullets.
Then came a silence and a great looking back and forth.

The threatening armies stared at each other across the water, but throughout the afternoon they lay idle.

The pitiless August sun burned on and the dust that had been trodden up by the scores of thousands hung in clouds low, but almost motionless.
Dick went down into a little creek, emptying into the Rappahannock, and bathed his face and hands.

Hundreds of others were doing the same.

The water brought a great relief.