"Who's afraid ?" The dawn was spreading.

The heavy mists that hung over the Chickamauga floated away.

All the east was silver, and the darkness rolled back like a blanket.

The west became silver in its turn, and the sun burned red fire in the east.

The wind still blew fresh and cool off the mountains.
The faint sound of trumpets came from far points on the Southern line.
The crackling fire of the skirmishers increased.
"It's a wait for us," said Colonel Winchester, standing amid his youthful staff.