Back ran the maneuvering Federals to cover. And as they did so, Dad jumped to his feet with an involuntary cry of dismay.
CHAPTER XX
THE PRODIGAL FATHER
THE fan-formation made the Federal line wide-scattered, as in “deploying skirmishers.” Every man had fully fifty feet of space between himself and the next soldier.
This formation, and the eccentric method of advance and retreat, combined with the long range, made the Yankee regiments extremely difficult targets for volley fire.
Almost unscathed, they had made their advance. And almost unscathed they were coming back.
It was not a battle. It was merely a bit of bull-baiting.
And now it was over; and the two regiments, at a command, were withdrawing from range, preparatory to massing and resuming their march, to catch up with their own main body.
The few men who had fallen were easily “brought in” by their comrades.
But Dad’s alert eyes had just seen, from his point of vantage, what the half-wriggling, half-crawling skirmishers had not. A man at the extreme left of the “fan” had jumped to his feet midway in the return, had whirled clean about and had fallen.
The wounded man got to his hands and knees, tried to move back, and fell again.