Virginia free press. (Charlestown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1832-1916, 1893-07-12
On the skfrmfsh Lime.

we get the WOru anu ueploy Ill irout vi
: the regiment-a line of men from ten to
fifteen feet apart-and advance across the
old field. We know where the enemy is
in the green woods on the far side
There is fear that he is massing bri-
gade there, and that the first seen of him
will be a line of battle sweeping across
the field. We know where his skirmish
ers are-behind the fringe OF bushes on
the other side of the creek half mile in
our front.
Over the fence-across the level-down
the slope, and ping zippl ping come
the bullets from the hidden skirmishers.
All! a man down-two or three Of them
If dead we can do them no good if only
wounded they must crawl away to the
rear or lie quivering and groaning in
some of the holows until we are relieved.
Our side of the creek also has its fringe
of bushes, and at intervals there are rocks
and logs and stumps. Like cats We creep
f.! forward-like cats we crouch behind
cover and peer over the logs or to the
right or left of the rocks,
"Popl Pop Zippl zipp! Thud |!
Thud !"
A hundred men on each side are blaz-
ing away, and the heavy bullets, fired
almost at random, strike the logs and
stumps with a muffled thud, or smash
against the rocks to be fattened like wa
ters and drop into the grass. That bull
let was fired by an old veteran. al
most felt the burn of it as it whizzed by
my cheek. That one was fired by re-
cruit, who is probably on the skirmish
line for the first time. 1t went at least
twenty feet above my head, droning like
a huge humble bee, and it will fall among
the troops far to our rear. Who uttered
that scream?
The man on my right is safe-the one
on my left has turned on his back. His
cap has fallen of, and there is blood on
his head and face. He is not dead-not
even fatally wounded. A bullet plowed
his scalp as he looked out from behind
his cover to find human target for his
bullet. He cried out with the burning
pain, but he mutters and curses and seems
ashamed of his weakness as he feels for
his handkerchief and binds up his bleed
ing head.
The man opposite me is not over sixty
feet away, but SO screened that cannot
see him. l can judge of his position,
however, by the line of his fire. All the
bullets which come whizzing by the rock
to the right, and all those which smash
against it with sound to make your
teeth grit are from his musket. Those
which cut in from the left or pass over
are random shots. BY accident have
the captains feld-glasses. draw them
from the case, rub up the lenses and eau
tiously level them from the left-hand side
of the rock For few seconds can see
nothing but blur of foliage. Then the
details began to come out. There is a
bank, and as | hold the glasses on it |
catch sight of al elbow and shoulder
and hat. A musket barrel is thrust
forth, and sheet Of fame darts over the
creeping blackberry bushes, and smash :
comes bullet against the rock. There
is no mercy in war. From the skirmish
line to the rush of division it means
cripple or kill.
| lay down the glasses aud pick up
my musket. | reach up and pull at the
branches of bush to form screen. and
then carefully arrange for dead shot,
Now that have located my man / can
follow his movements with the naked eye.
have not fired shot for FIVE minutes,
and he is emboldened. He argues that
have been killed or wounded or driven
away. He fires at the man on my right
and then at the one on my left, and L
know that the third one will come my
way. l am ready, with my finger on the
trigger and eye glancIng along the sights,
when the elbow appears in view. 1t is
small mark 10 fire at. Now the shoulder
is pushed out-now / see the hat-now
the head and half the body is uncovered.
In his anxiety to get sight Of me or learn
my fate he is taking chances. Kill him ?
Why not? He is seeking my life. He
is my enemy / enlisted with the object
of killing. There is no trembliDg-no
quickening Of the pulses-no futter of
the heart. | cannot look into his eyes,
but l imagine them fastened on mine as
l pulled the trigger and peer under the
smoke. There is a shout-a hand is
thrown up, and my enemy falls back
ward to fire no more. Dead, or only