“Dick, this sudden outburst will compel you to remain our guest some time longer—perhaps through the night.”
I turned my back upon him, and when he left I do not know, but when I looked that way again he was gone, for which I was in truth very glad. Yet I would have liked to ask him about Kate and her mother. I wondered if they were safe from the stray bullets of the sharpshooters.
In the stir of this strife at long range I seemed to be forgotten by the British, as I had been forgotten by my own people. My Continental uniform was none of the brightest, and even those who noticed it apparently took me for a privileged prisoner. When I left the tent in which the officer’s body lay I came back toward the American army, but the patter of the bullets grew so lively around me that I retreated. It is bad enough to be killed by an enemy, I imagine, but still worse to be killed by a friend.
The day was growing old and the night would soon be at hand. Our sharpshooters held such good positions that they swept most of the British camp. I do not claim to be a great military man, but I was convinced that if the British did not dislodge these sharpshooters their position would become untenable. The night, so far from serving them, would rather be a benefit to their enemies, for the lights in the British camp would guide the bullets of the hidden riflemen to their targets.
The bustle in the camp increased, and I observed that details of men were sent to the front. They took off their bright coats, which were fine marks for the riflemen, and it was evident that they intended to match our sharpshooters at their own business. Many of these men were Germans, who, I have heard, have always been accounted good marksmen in Europe.
Nobody caring about me, I took position on a little knoll where I could see and yet be beyond range. The sun, as if wishing to do his best before going down, was shining with marvelous brilliancy. The incessant pit-pat of the rifle fire, like the crackling of hail, drew all eyes toward the American line. It seemed to me that only the speedy coming of the night could prevent a great battle.
The crackling flared up suddenly into a volley, betokening the arrival of the fresh British skirmishers at the point of action. The little white curls of smoke were gathering together and forming a great cloud overhead. Presently some wounded were taken past.
There was a movement and gathering of men near me. Quite a body of soldiers, a company, it seemed, were drawn up. Then, with fixed bayonets, they advanced upon the American line. I guessed that the skirmishers were intended to attract the attention of our people, while this company hoped to clear the woods of the sharpshooters and release the British camp from their galling fire. The British advanced with gallantry. I give them credit for that always—that is, nearly always.
The firing had reached an exceeding degree of activity, but I did not see any man in the company fall. By this I concluded that their skirmishers were keeping our own busy, and I was in some apprehension lest this strong squad should fall suddenly and with much force upon our outposts. Forward they went at a most lively pace and preserving a very even rank, their bayonets shining brightly in the late sun. The British boast much about their ability with the bayonet. We know less about ours, because almost our only way of getting bayonets was to take them from the British, which we did more than once.
Two or three British officers gathered on the knoll to watch the movement. Among these was Captain Jervis, whom I liked well. He spoke pleasantly to me, and said, pointing at the company which was now very near to the wood: