Whirling
eddies of smoke alternately hid and disclosed enemies, and from both left
and right came the continuous and deafening crash of infantry in battle.
But Forrest's men paused only a moment or two. A great mass of them
galloped out of the smoke, over the bodies of their dead comrades and
directly into the Winchester regiment, shouting and slashing with their
great sabers. It was well for the men that their leader had so wisely
chosen ground rough and covered with bushes. Using every inch of
protection, they fired at horses and riders and thrust at them with their
bayonets.
The battle became wild and confused, a turmoil of mingled horse and foot,
of firing and shouting and of glittering swords and bayonets. A man on a
huge horse made a great sweep at Dick's head with a red saber. The boy
dropped to his knees, and felt the broad blade whistle where his head had
been.
The swordsman was borne on by the impetus of his horse, and Dick caught
one horrified glimpse of his face. It was Colonel Kenton, but Dick knew
that he did not know, nor did he ever know.
Pages:
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375