en the fierce yells of the fighters, as charges were
made or repulsed.

Glen felt the blood settle around his heart anew.

"Get out of the road and let the artillery pass! Open up for the
artillery!" shouted voices from the rear. Everybody sprang to the side
of the road.

There came a sound of blows rained upon horses bodies--of shouts and
oaths from exited drivers and eager officers--of rushing wheels and of
ironed hoofs striking fire from the grinding stones. Six long-bodied,
strong-limbed horses, their hides reeking with sweat, and their nostrils
distended with intense effort, tore past, snatching after them, as if it
were a toy, a gleaming brass cannon, surrounded by galloping cannoneers,
who goaded the draft horses on with blows with the flats of their drawn
sabers. Another gun, with its straining horses and galloping attendants,
and another, and another, until six great, grim pieces, with their scores
of desperately eager men and horses, had rushed by toward the front.

It was a sight to stir the coldest blood. The excited infantry boys,
wrought up to the last pitch by the spectacle, sprang back into the
road, cheered vociferously, and rushed on after the battery.

Hardly had the echoes of their voices died away, when they heard the
battery join its thunders to the din of the fight.

Then wounded men, powder-stained, came straggling back--men with
shattered arms and gashed faces and garments soaked with blood from
bleeding wounds.

"Hurrah, boys!" each shouted with weakened voice, as his eyes lighted
up at sight of the regiment, "We're whipping them; but hurry forward!
You're needed."

"If you ain't pretty quick," piped one girl-faced boy, with a pensive
smile, as he sat weakly down on a stone and pressed a delicate hand over
a round red spot that had just appeared on the breast of his blouse,
"you'll miss all the fun. We've about licked 'em already. Oh!--"

Abe and Kent sprang forward to catch him, but he was dead almost before
they could reach him. They laid him back tenderly on the brown dead
leaves, and ran to regain their places in the ranks.

The regiment was now sweeping around the last curve between it and the
line of battle. The smell of burning powder that filled the air, the
sight of flowing blood, the shouts of teh fighting men, had awakened
every bosom that deep-lying KILLING instinct inherited from our savage
ancestry, which slumbers--generally wholly unsuspected--in even the
gentlest man