This advance of the enemy had seemed to the youth like a ruthless hunting.

He began to fume with rage and exasperation.

He beat his foot upon the ground, and scowled with hate at the swirling smoke that was approaching like a phantom flood.

There was a maddening quality in this seeming resolution of the foe to give him no rest, to give him no time to sit down and think.

Yesterday he had fought and had fled rapidly.