He slung the glasses back over his shoulder. The eye alone was
sufficient now to watch the charging columns. All the artillery on both
sides was coming into action, and the ripping crash of so many cannon
became so great that the officers could no longer hear one another unless
they shouted. The gorges and hills caught up the sound and gave it back
in increased volume.

Dick heard a new note in the thunder. It was made by the swift beat of
hoofs, thousands of them, and the hair on his neck prickled at the roots.
Forrest and the wild cavalry of the South were charging on their flanks.
He felt a sudden horror lest he be trampled under the hoofs of horses.
By some curious twist of the mind his dread of such a fate was far more
acute at that moment than his fear of shells and bullets.

Colonel Winchester, shouting imperiously, ordered him and all the other
young officers to step back now and lie down. Dick obeyed, and he
crouched by the side of Warner and Pennington. The great bank of fire
and smoke was rolling nearer and yet nearer, and the cannon were fighting
one another with all the speed and power of the gunners. Off on the
flank the ominous tread of Southern horsemen was coming fast.

Bullets began now to rain among them. The regiment would have been swept
away bodily had the men not been lying down. But their time to wait and
hold their fire was at an end. The colonel gave the word, and a sheet
of light leaped from the mouths of their rifles. A vast gap appeared in
the Southern line before them, but in a minute or two it closed up, and
the Southern masses came on again, as menacing as ever. Again Dick's
regiment poured its shattering fire upon the Southern columns and their
front lines were blown away. Colonel Winchester at once wheeled his men