This was, indeed, good fortune for us,--too good to
believe. No cavalry attack could stand before well-disciplined
infantry, providing the latter keep cool and well composed, calmly
waiting until the riders come sufficiently close to take sure aim.

There was action for us at last. At a sharp word of command, our
men scrambled out of the trenches for better view and aim, shouting
with joy as they did so. What a change had come over us all! My
heart beat with wild exultation. I glanced at my men. They were all
eagerness and determination, hand at the trigger, eyes on the
approaching enemy, every muscle strained, yet calm, their bronzed
faces hardened into immobility, waiting for the command to fire.
Every subaltern officer's eye hung on our colonel, who stood about
thirty yards ahead of us on a little hill, his figure well defined in the
sunlight, motionless, the very picture of calm assurance and proud
bearing. He scanned the horizon with his glasses. Shrapnel was
hailing around him, but he seemed utterly unaware of it; for that
matter we had all forgotten it, though it kept up its terrible uproar,
spitting here and there destruction into our midst.

By this time the avalanche of tramping horses had come perceptibly
nearer. Soon they would sweep by the bundle of hay which marked
the carefully measured range within which our fire was terribly
effective. Suddenly the mad stampede came to an abrupt standstill,
and then the Cossacks scattered precipitately to the right and left,
only to disclose in their rear the advancing Russian infantry, the
movements of which it had been their endeavor to veil.

The infantry moved forward in loose lines, endlessly rolling on like
shallow waves overtaking each other, one line running forward, then
suddenly disappearing by throwing itself down and opening fire on
us to cover the advance of the other line, and so on, while their
artillery kept up a hellish uproar spreading destruction through our
lines. Simultaneously a Russian aeroplane swept down upon us
with a noise like an angered bird of prey and pelted us with bombs,
the effects of which, however, were more moral than actual, for we
had regained the security of the trenches and opened fire on the
approaching enemy, who in spite of heavy losses advanced steadily
until he reached our wire entanglements. There he was greeted by
a deadly fire from our machine guns. The first Russian lines were
mowed down as if by a gigant