The Rock of Chickamauga - A Story of the Western Crisis by Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander) Altsheler
page 89 of 323 (27%)
page 89 of 323 (27%)
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his clothes and he became conscious, too, that a bullet had grazed his
shoulder. But these trifles did not disturb him. It was so sweet to rest! Nothing could be more heavenly than merely to lie there in the long, soft grass and gaze up at the luminous sky, into which the stars now stole to twinkle down at him peacefully. "Don't go to sleep, Dick," said a voice near him. "I admit the temptation is strong. I feel it myself, but General Grant may have to send you and me forward to-night to win another battle." "George, I'm glad to hear your preachy voice over there. Hurt any?" "No. A million cannon balls brushed my right cheek and another million brushed my left cheek, but they didn't touch me. They scared me to death, but in the last few minutes I've begun to come back to life. In a quarter of an hour I'll be just as much alive as I ever was." "Do you know anything of Pennington?" "Yes. The rascal is lying about six feet beyond me, sound asleep. In spite of all I could do he wouldn't stay awake. I've punched him all over to see if he was wounded, but as he didn't groan at a single punch, he's all right." "That being the case, I'm going to follow Pennington's example. You may lecture me as much as you please, George, but you'll lecture only the night, because I'll be far away from here in a land of sweet dreams." "All right, if you're going to do it, I will too. You'll hear my snore before I hear yours." |
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