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
into a new position to meet the mass of Forrest's cavalry rushing down
upon their flank. He was just in time to help other troops, not in
numbers enough to withstand the shock.
There were few moments in the lives of these lads as terrifying as those
when they turned to face the fierce Forrest, the uneducated mountaineer
who had intuitively mastered Napoleon's chief maxim of war, to pour the
greatest force upon the enemy's weakest point.
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