saw
brother fall, brother sprang to avenge brother. Their lips were
blackened from tearing cartridges; their eyes, large in their thin,
bronzed faces, burned against the enemy; their fingers were quick, quick
at the musket lock; the spirit was the spirit behind hurled stones of
old, swung clubs, thrown javelins! They had a loved leader, a great
strong head man who ruled them well and led them on to victory. They
fought for him too, for his scant and curt praise, for his "Good, Good!"
They fought for their own lives, each man for his own life, for their
tribe, their possessions, for women at home and children, for their
brethren, their leader, their cause. Something else, too, of the past
was there in force--hatred of him who opposed. They fought for hate at
Sharpsburg, as they fought for love. The great star drew, the iron thong
fell. Led and driven, the tribe fought gigantically.

* * * * *

The battle became furious. Within the din of artillery and musketry human
voices, loud, imperative, giving orders, shouting, wailing, died like a low
murmur in the blast. Out of the wildly drifting smoke, now dark, now
flame-lit, forms emerged, singly or in great bodies, then the smoke drew
together, hiding the struggle. There was blackness and grime as from the
ash of a volcano. The blood pounded behind the temples, the eyeballs
started, the tongue was thick in the mouth, battle smell and battle taste,
a red light, and time in crashes like an earthquake-toppling city! The
inequalities of the ground became exaggerated. Mere hillocks changed into
rocky islands. Seize them, fortify them, take them before the blue can! The
tall maize grew gigantically taller. Break through these miles of cane as
often before we have broken through them, the foemen crashing before us
down to their boats! The narrow tongues of woods widened, widened. Take
these deep forests, use them for shelter, from them send forth these new
arrows of death--fight, fight! in the rolling murk, the red light and
crying!

Before the Dunkard church Starke, commanding Jackson's old division, was
killed, Jones was wounded, Lawton wounded. Many field officers were
down, many, many of lesser rank. Of the blue, Mansfield was killed,
Hooker was wounded, and Hartsuff and Crawford. The grey had pressed the
blue back, back! Now in turn the blue drove the grey. The walls of the
white church were splashed with blood, pocked with bullets. Dead men lay