Creative Books

It's mine, and I'm coming back to it. I've earned it. I held it against
all kinds of bullets. Look at the scars made on each side of it by rebel
lead."
The firing now died. Whitley's flank movement had proved wholly
successful, and Colonel Winchester reinforced him in the little forest
peninsula with fifty more picked men, where they lay well hidden, a
formidable force for any assailant.
The silence now became complete, save for the stamping of the impatient
horses and the drone of insects in the woods and grass. Dick, lying on
his stomach and using his glasses, could see nothing in the forest before
them. It was to him in all its aspects an Indian battle, and he believed
in spite of what Warner had said that the enemy had retired permanently.
Colonel Winchester and all the officers rose to their feet presently and
walked among the trees. No bullets came to tell them that they were
rash and then the senior officers held a conference, while all the men
remounted, save a dozen or so who would ride no more. But the colonel
did not abate one whit of his craft or caution.


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