ely
more than a youth, his head bare, his eyes snapping fire, one hand
holding aloft a red cap on the point of a sword, had taken command and
was urging the soldiers on with every fierce shout that he knew. The
men were responding. Command seemed natural to him. Here was a born
leader in battle. John knew him, and he knew that his own prophecy had
been fulfilled.

"Geronimo!" he gasped.

But young Bougainville did not see him. He was still shouting to the men
whom he now led so well. The point of the sword, doubtless taken from
the hand of some fallen officer, had pierced the red cap which was
slowly sinking down the blade, but he did not notice it.

John looked again for his commander, but not seeing him, and knowing how
futile it was now to seek him in all the fiery crush, he resolved to
stay with the young Apache.

"Geronimo," he cried, and it was the last time he called him by that
name, "I go with you!"

In all the excitement of the moment young Bougainville recognized him
and something droll flashed in his eyes.

"Did I boast too much?" he shouted.

"You didn't!" John shouted back.

"Come on then! A big crowd of Germans is just over this hill, and we
must smash 'em!"

John kept by his side, but Bougainville, still waving his sword, while
the red cap sank lower and lower on the blade, addressed his men in
terms of encouragement and affection.

"Forward, my children!" he shouted. "Men, without fear, let us be the
first to make the enemy feel our bayonets! Look, a regiment on the right
is ahead of you, and another also on the left leads you! Faster!
Faster, my children!"

An angle of the German line was thrust forward at this point where a
hill afforded a strong position. Bullets were coming from it in showers,
but the Bougainville regiment broke into a run, passed ahead of the
others and rushed straight at the hill.

It was the first time that men had come face to face in the battle and
now John saw the French fury, the enthusiasm and fire that Napoleon had
capitalized and cultivated so sedulously. Shouting fiercely, they flung
themselves upon the Germans and by sheer impact drove them back. They
cleared the hill in a few moments, triumphantly seized four cannon and
then, still shouting, swept on.

John found himself shouting with the others. This was victory, the first
real taste of it, and it was sweet to the lips. But the regiment was
halted presently, lest it get too far forward and be cut off,