"Now, boys,—that battery on the first crest—we've half their men—charge and take those guns!"
The regiment leaped to their feet and started up the hill. They had lost two hundred men in their first sweep. There were six hundred left.
"Hold your fire until I give the word!" the Colonel shouted.
The smoke was hanging low, and they had made two hundred yards before the blue line saw them through the haze. The hill blazed and hissed in their faces. The massed infantry behind the guns found their marks. Men dropped right and left, sank in grey heaps or fell forward on their faces—some were knocked backwards down the slope. Yet without a pause they climbed.
Three hundred yards more and they would be on the guns. And then a sheet of blinding flame from every black-mouthed gun in line double shotted with grape and canister! The regiment was literally knocked to its knees. The men paused as if dazed by the shock. The sharp words of cheer and command from their officers and they rallied. From both flanks poured a murderous hail of bullets—guns to the right, left and front, all screaming, roaring, hissing their call of blood.
The Colonel saw the charge was hopeless and ordered his men to fire and fall back fighting. The grey line began to melt into the smoke mists down the hill and disappeared—all save Ned Vaughan. His eyes were fixed on that battery when the order to fire was given. He fired and charged with fixed bayonet alone. He never paused to see how many men were with him. His mind was set on capturing one of those guns. He reached the breastworks and looked behind him. There was not a man in sight. A blue gunner was ramming a cannon. With a savage leap Ned was on the boy, grabbed him by the neck and rushed down the hill in front of his own gun before the astounded Commander realized what had happened. When he did it was too late to fire. They would tear both men to pieces.
The regiment had rallied in the woods at the edge of the field from which they had first charged.
Ned Vaughan led his prisoner, in bright new uniform of blue, up to the Colonel and reported.
"A prisoner of war, sir!"
The Colonel took off his hat and gazed at the pair: