Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1916-04-06
CHAPTER XVII.
The End Of Defense.

ING GIu VI cCfCuSCs
had no time for thought-action
called me. Yet her last unfinished
sentence rang in my memory. Could
1t be that she cared also? That out
of this strange association there had
grown an awakening interest? For a
single moment ! stood there motion
less, my feet on the lowered trap. dim
ly conscious of the uproar about me.
yet scarcely able to realize the immi-
nence Of the peril. They we're pouring
volleys into the front door-the roar
ing of discharge ending in the sound
of splintered wood. and sharp cries Of
pain. Carbines cracked in response,
and Harwood's voice sounded con-
tinually through the hideous discord.
Get back. men! Get back! Ay, be-
yond the partition, you fellows in front
there! No. don't leave the windows;
they'll charge presently. and there is
no use firing those carbines now-the
range is too long. Load again-load!
and stand ready. Wyatt!"
Here, SIR
ANY work for you there?"
mo; only half dozen Yanks in
sight from this end"
Bring all but two men, and come
here! Wharton, stand ready to take
hand. All! there the blue-bellies
come, lads-now give them the lead!
Fire! damn you-fire!"
The little squad Of us leaped down
the aisle, and Wharton's men clam
bered over the benches, cursing and
yelling. Already the smoke of the car
bines filled the church. and we could
see little except in the flash Of the
gunfire. The swirl of bodies hurled
me to the right, away from where
HARDWOOD stood, and brought me in
front of the opposite door. Through
this opening and the narrow window
beyond, got a glimpse outside-at a
black mass Of men sweeping straight
toward us, their guns cleaning
viciously, their voices echoing in saw
age shout. 1t was mere glimpse. an
Internal vision. and, almost at the same
instant they came crashing against the
shattered door, beating it down with
their gun-stocks, and leaping through
into the maze of overturned benches
littering the vestibule. The door fell in
splinters. How they got through that
tangle of death know not. Into their
very faces we poured our fire-our
own men, caught within the narrow
space, striking at them with dubbed
uupa-httf tbnu xpara too manu- To ha
held. Over the dead poured the tor
rent of living, firing, cursing, striking.
tanning the few gray Jackets against
the inner wall, and, in two resistless
streams, hurting themselves against
both vestibule doors.
Wedged in the portals, saw all this
SO clearly that each detail stands out
in memory-the Infatuated faces, the
falling bodies, the disfiguring blood
stains, the savage CLINT of steel. Those
who came first were not soldiers
they were Cowan's men. gaunt, rough
fellows. bearded and dirty. their fierce
curses sounding above the uproar
And they fought like fiehds, driven by
Cowan's voice, and pressed remorse-
lessly forward by the cavalrymen be-
hind. ! saw him once. o blood spot on
his cheek, and fired over the heads
of those between us. but though he
fell, he came to his feet again and was
swept to one side by the rush of men.
l saw all this. and no more; it was
like fash on the screen-and then
eyerything became an fndistinct blur
tTo BE CONTINUED)