One must realize that all this took place at the same time. The firing of the shot, the realization that it was a mistake, Paul's flash of the oncoming projectile, his command to his men and the vision had by the girls. All in an instant, for a shot from a big gun does not leave much margin of time between starting and arriving even when fired with only a small charge of powder for moving picture purposes.
And, so quickly had it happened that Russ had not stopped turning the crank of his camera, nor had an assistant on the hillside, where he had been stationed to film Paul and his soldiers.
And then the projectile struck. Into the soft dirt of the hillside it buried its head, and then, as the explosion came, up went a shower of earth and stones. And ever afterward the gunner who inserted that charge blessed himself and an ever-watchful Providence that he had put in but half a charge, the last of the powder.
For it was this half-charge that saved Paul and his men. The projectile struck in the hill a hundred feet below where Paul was leading his force up the slope, and though they were well-nigh buried beneath a rain of sand and gravel, they were not otherwise hurt—scratches and bruises being their portion.
"What are they trying to do, kill us?" cried a man, staggering to his feet, blood streaming from a cut on his cheek.
"This is too much like real war for me!" yelled another throwing down his gun. "I'm going to quit!"
"No you don't!" shouted Paul. "Come on. It was a mistake. They won't fire any more. It will make a great scene on the film. Come on!"
He gave one look back toward the Union battery and saw Mr. Pertell fluttering a white flag which meant safety. Waving his sword above his head, Paul yelled again:
"Come on! Come on! It's all right! Up the hill with you! That shot was only to put a little pep in you!"
"Pep! More like sand! I got a mouthful!" muttered a sergeant.