Jove! I fancied I felt the windage of the ball as it sped past.
At any rate, it appeared that the gunners were not firing blank cartridges—they meant business.
Instead of giving me a fright, this thing did just the contrary—it aroused my fighting blood. I felt a hot thrill pass over my whole frame, as though I had been suddenly immersed in a fiery furnace like Shadrach and his comrades of old. Yes, it was easy for me to understand now what was meant when they spoke of the fierce battle spirit sweeping over a man, and transforming a novice into a veteran.
That one shot, added to the warlike shouts, had accomplished this transformation.
I seemed to see in that gun the one thing on earth I longed to possess—all else faded into insignificance beside it, and I was even willing to undergo every manner of bodily torment and deprivation in order to accomplish its capture.
Alone, I could do nothing.
Here were men—if I could only harangue them and inflame them with but a modicum of my fierce desire, how easy it would be to accomplish the overthrow of the citadel.
Apparently, it took the defenders several minutes to charge their gun after a shot; this gave oceans of time for a rush across the open to gain the shelter of such buildings as flanked the barracks.
And, wonderful to relate, this simple trick had not been turned—indeed, to all appearances, had not even been considered.
Truly, there was a crying need of leaders among these good people, men who had the brain to plan and the nerve to execute.