re that fate if so ordered.

Behind the wings of the battery stood the Lieutenants, leaning on their
sabers, and gazing with fixed, unmoving eyes on the thunderous wrack and
ruin.

They said nothing. There was no reason for saying anything. Everything
was working systematically and correctly. Every man was doing his best,
and in the best way. Nobody needed reminder, reprimand, direction or
encouragement.

Similarly, the Sergeants stood behind their sections, except that one
after another they stepped forward to the guns to take the places of
men who had fallen and could not be replaced. At the guns the men were
working with the swiftness of light flashes, and the unerring certainty
of machines. To the watchers at the base of the slope they seemed to
weave back and forth like some gigantic, demoniac loom, as they sprang
at their guns, loaded them, "broke away" as they fired, leaped back
again, caught the gun in its recoil, hurled it forward, again reloaded,
"broke away" and fired, all quicker than thought. A shell took off a
sponger's head, but the sponge-staff was caught by another before it
fell, and the gun fired again without a pause. A shrapnel swept away
every man about one gun. The Lieutenant looked inquiringly at the
Sergeant, and in an instant another squad seemed to spring up from the
ground to continue the firing without missing a note in the battery's
rhythm.

The groups about each gun thinned out, as the shrieking fragments of
shell mowed down man after man, but the rapidity of the fire did not
slacken in the least. One of the Lieutenants turned and motioned with
his saber to the riders seated on their horses in the line of limbers
under the cover of the slope. One rider sprang from each team and ran up
to take the place of men who had fallen.

The next minute the Lieutenant turned and motioned again, and another
rider sprang from each team and ran up the hill. But one man was now
left to manage the six horses attached to each limber. He soon left,
too, in obedience to the Lieutenant's signal, and a faint, bleeding man
came back and climbed into his place.

A shrapnel shell burst almost under the left gun and lifted it up in the
air. When the smoke opened a little not a man could be seen about the
cannon. A yell of exultation floated over from the rebel line.

The Lieutenant unbuckled his saber, dropped it to the ground, and ran
forward to the cannon. Two or three men rose slowly from the ground,
up