The men were awakened and stood up, shaking the sleep from their eyes and
then, through habit, looking to their arms and ammunition. The thread of
gray showed in the east.

"Whatever it is, it will come soon," whispered Warner to Dick.

The gray thread broadened and became a ribbon of silver. The silver,
as it widened, was shot through with pink and red and yellow, the colors
of the morning. Dick caught a glimpse of massed bayonets near him,
and of the Southern trenches rising slowly out of the dusk not far away.
Then the earth rocked.

He felt a sudden violent and convulsive movement that nearly threw him
from his feet, and the whole world in front of him blazed with fire,
as if a volcano, after a long silence, had burst suddenly into furious
activity. Black objects, the bodies of men, were borne upon the mass of
shooting flames, and the roar was so tremendous that it was heard thirty
miles away.

Dick had been expecting something, but no such red dawn as this, and when
the fires suddenly sank, and the world-shaking crash turned to echoes he
stood for a few moments appalled. He believed at first that a magazine
had exploded, but, as the dawn was rapidly advancing, he beheld in front
of them, where Southern breastworks had stood, a vast pit two or three
hundred feet long and more than thirty feet deep. At the bottom of it,
although they could not be seen through the smoke, lay the fragments of
Confederate cannon and Confederate soldiers who had been blown to pieces.

"A mine breaking the rebel line!" cried Warner, "and our men are to