The ridges confronted one another, bristling with cannon but the armies were motionless.
The day was hotter than either of those that had gone before.

The sun, huge and red, poised in the heavens, shot down fiery rays in millions.
Harry gasped for breath, and when at last he spoke in the stillness his voice sounded loud and harsh in his own ears.
"What does it mean, George ?" he said.
"I don't know, but I think they are massing behind us for a charge." "Not against the sixty or seventy thousand men and the scores of cannon on those heights ?" "Maybe not yet.

It's likely there will be a heavy artillery fire first.
Yes, I'm right! There go the guns!" One cannon shot was followed by many others, and then for a while a tremendous cannonade raged along the front of the armies, but it too died, the smoke lifted, and then came the breathless, burning heat again.
The fire of the sun and of the battle entered Harry's brain.

The valley, the town, the hills, the armies, everthing swam in a red glare.

The great pulses leaped in his throat.