Again he clearly saw through his glasses the long lines of men in blue along the slopes and on the crest of Cemetery Hill.

He marked, too, there, at the highest point, a clump of trees waving their summer green in the hot sunshine.

Turning his glasses yet further he saw the massed artillery on Little Round Top, and the gunners leaning on their guns.
A house, set on fire purposely or by shells, was burning brightly, like some huge torch to light the way to death.
"You told me they were preparing for a charge," he said to Dalton.
"So they are, Harry.

Pickett's men, who have not been here long, are forming up in the rear, but their advance will be preceded by a cannonade.

You can see them wheeling guns into line." Lee, with Hill and Longstreet, had recently ridden along the lines followed by the older staff officers, and often shells and the bullets of sharpshooters had struck about them, but they remained unhurt.
Now Lee stopped at one of his old points of observation.