The Idaho Springs siftings-news., 1915-04-03
TheLast Shot
FREDERICK PALMER
(Cooyrsht. 1914 by Charles Scrbners Sons

was spoken IN the midst OF Salvo OF
shrapnel cracks, which he did not
hear He heard nothing. thought moth
ing, except to kill.
The Gray batteries on the plain,
having taken up a new position and
being reinforced. played on the crest
at top speed instantly the Gray line
rose and started up the slope at the
run With the purpose of confusing
no less than killing. they used percus-
sion, which burst on striking the
ground, as well as shrapnel, which
burst by time-fuse in the air, Foun-
tains Of sod and dirt shot upward to
meet descending sprays OF bullets. The
conclusions of the earth shook the
aim of Dellarmes men. blinded by
smoke and dust, as they fired through
a fog at bent figures whose legs were
pumping fast in dim pantomime.
But the guns OF the Browns, also,
have word that the charge has begun.
The signal corporal is waiting for the
gesture from Dellarme agreed upon as
an announcement. The Brown artil-
lery commander cuts his fuses two
hundred and fifty yards shorter. He.
too. uses percussion for moral effect.
Half OF the distance from the foot
to the crest of the knoll Fracasse's
men have gone In face of the hot. siz-
zling tornado of bullets, when there is
blast Of explosions in their faces
with all the chaotic and irresistible
force of volcanic eruption. Not only
are they In the midst of the first lot
of the Browns shells at the shorter
range, but one Gray battery has either
made mistake in cutting its fuses OF
struck streak OF powder below stand
ard, and its shells burst among those
whom it Is aiming to assist
The ground seems rising under the
feet of Fracasses company; the air is
split and racked and wrenched and
torn with hideous screams of invisible
demons The men stop; they act on
the uncontrollab BILE instinct of self-pres-
eryation against an overwhelming
force Of nature. A few without the
power of locomotion drop, faces
pressed to the ground. The rest fee
toward shoulder Of the slope
through the instinct that leads
hunted man in street into an alley.
In a confusion of arms and legs, press
ting one on the other, no longer SOL
diers, only a mob. they throw them
selves behind the first protection that
offers itself. Fracasse also runs. He
runs from the flame of a furnace door
suddenly thrown open.
The Gray batteries have ceased fir
ing; certain gunners' ears burn under
the words of inquiry as to the cause
of the mistake from an artillery COM
mander. Dellarme's men are hugging
the earth too close to cheer. A desire
to spring up and yell may be in their
hearts, but they know the danger of
showing a single unnecessary inch of
their craniums above the skyline. The
sounds that escape their throats are
those Of winning team at tug OF
war as diaphragms relax.
With the smoke clearing, they see
20 or 80 Grays plastered on the slope
at the point where the charge was
checked. Every one OF those PROSTATE
forms is within fatal range Not one
moves a finger; even the living are
feigning death In the hope of surviv-
luS AMOAS iHCAL 10 iiltIC ClCi NIL
so faithful In forcing his refractory
legs to keep pace with his comrades.
If he is always up with them they will
never know what is in his heart and
call him a coward. AS he has been
knocked unconscious, he has not been
In the pell-mell retreat
His first stabbing thought on coming
to was that he must be dead; but, no;
he was opening his eyes sticky with
dust At least, he must be wounded.
He had not power yet to move his
hands in order to feel where, and when
they grew alive enough to move, what
he saw in front OF him held them
frigidly still. His nerves went search
ing from his head to his feet and
miracle Of heaven!-found no point of
pain or spot soppy with blood. If he
were really hit there was bound to be
one or the other, he knew from read
ing.
Between him and the faces OF the
Browns-yes, the actual, living, terri
BILE Browns-above the CLINT OF their
rife barrels, was no obstacle that
could stop a bullet, though not more
than three feet away was a crater
made by a shell burst. The black cir
Gle of every muzzle on the crest
seemed to be pointing at him. When
were they going to shoot? When was
he to be executed? Would he be shot
In many places and die thus? Or would
the very first bullet go through his
head? Why didn't they fire? What
were they waiting for? The suspense
was unbearable. The desperation of
overwhelming fear driving him in ire
spons!ble impulse, he doubled up his
leg4 and with cats leap sprang for
the crater.
blood-curdling burst OF whistles
passed over his head as a dozen rifles
ho