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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"A Story of the Western Crisis"

He never knew how he
was going to feel on the eve of battle. Sometimes the constriction at
his heart was painful, and sometimes its beat was smooth and regular.
All the officers of the Winchester regiment were dismounted owing to the
rough nature of the country in which they were stationed. They held the
most uneven part of the center, where thickets and ravines were many.
Hot food and coffee were served to them, and new warmth and courage
flowed through their bodies.
The distant fire increased, and, standing on a hillock, Dick looked
long through his glasses. A faint haze which had hung in the south was
clearing away. The rays of the sun were intensely bright. The brown
of autumn glowed like gold, and the red splashes here and there burned
scarlet. He saw pink dots appearing on a long line and he knew that the
skirmishers were active and wary.
"There can be no doubt of the advance!" he said to Warner. "A strong
body of our cavalry disclosed their forward movement, and there are the
skirmishers signaling that Bragg is near. Wonderful fellows, those
sharpshooters! They're the eyes of the army.


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