A portion of their regiment was ordered to assist a force of Ohio and Indiana men under Colonel Dunning, in routing a body of Confederates who were posted near Romney, Va., at a point called Blue Gap.
The wind had died away, the stars were out, and the moon shone brilliantly. The cutting sleet had turned to snow, and the soft carpet lay white and pure, muffling the sound of their footsteps. It was a weird sight—that mass of men tramping along with steady steps, while their shadows falling on the ground danced and flickered in the moonbeams with startling vividness.
Blue Gap was a natural opening between hills, and was well defended by howitzers and rifle pits. As they approached the Gap, Ralph's keen eye detected a dozen men piling up limbs, straw, and other inflammable material, against the bridge that spanned a stream running through the Gap.
“Captain,” he said, “some of those fellows have left the lines, and are fixing things nice to burn that bridge.”
“We'll block that game, instanter. We need that bridge more than they do.”
A dash was made for the bridge, led by the captain, who opened fire upon them, and thus ended that attempt. On the hills the entrenchments were held manfully, but the Confederates had scarce time to pour forth their fire, before the two Ohio regiments dashed upon them, and captured two pieces of artillery. The surprise was so complete and the attack so overwhelming, that defense was vain.
The hills were swarming with Federals, fighting hand to hand, and forcing their opponents back. The houses on the other shore were filled with sharpshooters, whose constant firing harassed the Federals, and brought down a soldier at nearly every shot.
A score of men sprang into a large boat lying at the bank, and with a storm of bullets hissing and rattling about them, they crossed to the shore where the sharpshooters were hidden. Death menaced them, but with a huzza that would have put life into a stone, they rowed fast, and sprang out of the boat. Dashing up the hill, to the houses which the enemy had used for vantage ground, they found them vacated.
“They didn't wait to make our acquaintance,” Ralph said.
“No, but those sharpshooters introduced themselves to us in fine style. Why, a man went down at nearly every shot.”