seemed never to grow weary; they were fighting with
their old speed. He had a wild hate for the relentless foe.
Yesterday, when he had imagined the universe to be against him, he had
hated it, little gods and big gods; to-day he hated the army of the foe
with the same great hatred. He was not going to be badgered of his
life, like a kitten chased by boys, he said. It was not well to drive
men into final corners; at those moments they could all develop teeth
and claws.

He leaned and spoke into his friend's ear. He menaced the woods with a
gesture. "If they keep on chasing us, by Gawd, they'd better watch
out. Can't stand TOO much."

The friend twisted his head and made a calm reply. "If they keep on
a-chasin' us they'll drive us all inteh th' river."

The youth cried out savagely at this statement. He crouched behind a
little tree, with his eyes burning hatefully and his teeth set in a
curlike snarl. The awkward bandage was still about his head, and upon
it, over his wound, there was a spot of dry blood. His hair was
wondrously tousled, and some straggling, moving locks hung over the
cloth of the bandage down toward his forehead. His jacket and shirt
were open at the throat, and exposed his young bronzed neck. There
could be seen spasmodic gulpings at his throat.

His fingers twined nervously about his rifle. He wished that it was an
engine of annihilating power. He felt that he and his companions were
being taunted and derided from sincere convictions that they were poor
and puny. His knowledge of his inability to take vengeance for it made
his rage into a dark and stormy specter, that possessed him and made
him dream of abominable cruelties. The tormentors were flies sucking
insolently at his blood, and he thought that he would have given his
life for a revenge of seeing their faces in pitiful plights.

The winds of battle had swept all about the regiment, until the one
rifle, instantly followed by others, flashed in its front. A moment
later the regiment roared forth its sudden and valiant retort. A dense
wall of smoke settled down. It was furiously slit and slashed by the
knifelike fire from the rifles.

To the youth the fighters resembled animals tossed for a death struggle
into a dark pit. There was a sensation that he and his fellows, at
bay, were pushing back, always pushing fierce onslaughts of creatures
who were slippery. Their beams of crimson seemed to get no purchase
upon the bo