To
and fro they moved, down they stooped, up they stood, stepped backward
from the gun at fire, moved forward at recoil, fell again to the loading
with the precision of the drill ground. They were half naked, they were
black with powder, glistening with sweat, some were bleeding. In the
light from the guns all came boldly into relief; in the intermediate
deep murk they sank from sight, became of the clouds, cloudy, mere
shapes in the semi-darkness.

Stonewall Jackson, returning to the Dunkard church and passing behind
this headland, turned Little Sorrel's head and came upon the plateau.
Pelham met him. "Yes, general, we're doing well. Yes, sir, it's holding
out. Caissons were partly filled during the lull."

"Good, good!" said Jackson. He dismounted and walked forward to the
guns. Pelham followed. "I don't think you should be out here, general.
They've got our range very accurately--"

The other apparently did not notice the remark. He stood near one of the
guns and turned his eyes upon the battle on the right. "Longstreet
strikes a heavy blow. He and Hill will push them back. Colonel Pelham,
train two guns upon that body of the enemy at the ford."

Pelham moved toward the further guns. The howitzer nearest Jackson was
fired, reloaded, fired again. The men beside it stood back. It blazed,
thundered, recoiled. A great, black, cylindrical shell came with a
demoniac shriek. At the moment the platform was lit with the battle
glare. Its fall was seen. It fell, smoking, immediately beside Stonewall
Jackson. Such was the concussion of the air that for a moment he was
stunned. Involuntarily his arm went up before his eyes; he made a
backward step. Pelham, returning from the further guns and still some
yards away, gave a shout of warning and horror; from all the men who had
seen the thing there burst a similar cry. With the motion almost of the
shell itself, a man of the crew of the howitzer reached the torn earth
and the cylinder. His body half naked, blackened, brushed, in passing,
the general. He put his hands beneath the heated, smoking bottle of
death, lifted it, and rushed on to the edge of the escarpment fifty feet
away. Here he swung it with force, threw it from him with burned hands.
Halfway to the field below it exploded.

Pelham, very pale, protested with some sternness. "You can't stay here,
general! My men can't work with you here. It doesn't matter about us,
but it does matter about you. Please go, sir."

"