possible. Later the officers could fit the little pieces
together again, and make a battle front. If none of the little
pieces were wise enough to save themselves from the flurry of
death at such a time, why, then, where would be the army? It was
all plain that he had proceeded according to very correct and
commendable rules. His actions had been sagacious things. They
had been full of strategy. They were the work of a master's legs.

Thoughts of his comrades came to him. The brittle blue line had
withstood the blows and won. He grew bitter over it. It seemed
that the blind ignorance and stupidity of those little pieces
had betrayed him. He had been overturned and crushed by their
lack of sense in holding the position, when intelligent
deliberation would have convinced them that it was impossible.
He, the enlightened man who looks afar in the dark, had fled
because of his superior perceptions and knowledge. He felt a
great anger against his comrades. He knew it could be proved
that they had been fools.

He wondered what they would remark when later he appeared in camp.
His mind heard howls of derision. Their density would not enable
them to understand his sharper point of view.

He began to pity himself acutely. He was ill used. He was
trodden beneath the feet of an iron injustice. He had proceeded
with wisdom and from the most righteous motives under heaven's
blue only to be frustrated by hateful circumstances.

A dull, animal-like rebellion against his fellows, war in the
abstract, and fate grew within him. He shambled along with bowed